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#i don't normally write in present-tense but
a-very-sparkly-nerd · 2 months
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@dragonprincedrabbles
Nyx + Corvus, Foreboding
Corvus finds out just enough about Soren's kidnapping experience to be pushed over the edge.
Corvus is quick to dislike a person. Easy to rub him up the wrong way. And this elf had done it from a mile away.
Blue hair and heterochromic, an omnipresent shit-eating grin, and non-stop teasing, jabbing, and overall being infuriating.
Soren knows her, it seems, based on the way his jaw set and brow furrowed when he laid eyes on her across the market they passed through, and especially based on the way he heard her following them from abovehead–because of course the oversized harpy had wings–and used Corvus’s chain to yank her down from the sky. Corvus didn’t think he’d ever seen the other Crownguard so angry, so angsty in the way he stomped off to gather firewood when they made camp that night.
With the Skywing sitting across the fire from him, preening her feathered wings. “Naimi-Selari-Nykantia” had been how she’d introduced herself, tacking on a “But you can call me Nyx” as an afterthought.
Nyx was annoying.
“It’s rude to stare, you know,” she says over the flames, breaking Corvus away from his thoughts.
“How do you know him?” Corvus demands, skipping directly over the small talk.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, too,” she grumbles, but adjusts to turn at least part of her attention and body language to him.
“How?” he repeats, letting his hand drift to his chain. The angry red welts along her ankle suggest she has not forgotten how painful it was, and even less likely to want a repeat. All ration seemed to go out the window when it came to Soren. For Corvus, at least.
She shrugs sheepishly, rolling her shoulders and eyes to the sky. “Er, well… Let’s just say a girl’s got to look out for herself, am I right, eh?”
“Tell me how you know Soren,” Corvus hisses, gripping the handle in an attempt to keep himself in check.
“Oh, we went through a good ol’-fashioned pirate kidnapping together,” Nyx says with feigned cheeriness, a sad attempt at a chuckle. “I gave him some information, he let me go free. The little king, handsome dolt, and idiots in love, er- dealt with their situation themselves.”
Corvus’s blood is suddenly boiling hot, as if his skin doesn’t fit right over his bones. Shock and rage fills crevices of his body he hadn’t known existed prior to this moment. What?
Soren had been kidnapped? Ez, too? And Callum and Rayla, judging by the “idiots in love” bit. And none of them had breathed even a word of it?
That’s fine, it’s their business. Really, Corvus tried to tell himself, getting to his feet.
It didn’t work. Soren had been hurt and in danger, and sure, that’s what Crownguards were trained for, but it didn’t mean he was expected to simply be okay.
“You sold them out?” he says, voice nearing a roar. “You sold him out?!”
“Woah, there. Two batches of idiots in love, my mistake,” she mutters, and Corvus is too angry to be flustered about it. “Listen, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. Everyone else there had someone looking out for them. Number One’s the only one who’s gonna look out for Number One. Everyone’s selfish.”
Corvus turns to the woods Soren had disappeared into, everything starting to make sense with each puzzle piece falling into place. “Leave.”
“Excuse me?”
“Leave,” he repeats, digging his jagged, worn fingernails into his palms. “I’m going to look for him, and if you’re here when I get back, I’ll kill you. I swear it.”
“Okay, chill out there, Big Guy,” Nyx starts, and he hears her light footsteps approaching him tentatively but quickly.
As her hand goes for his shoulder, Corvus wheels around and grabs her wrist, getting up close and personal. He lets every bit of anger show on his face. “Look me in the eye and try to call my bluff. Look me in the eye and try to reason with me. I’m not messing around.”
Nyx’s wings flutter nervously, and he lets her snatch her wrist out of his grasp. His skin feels dirty, but not from guilt– from touching this monster who’d let Soren get hurt. “Alright, alright! Message received!”
She takes a few steps backward, and Corvus relishes in how she trips over her bag, and, flustered, scramble to start shoving her things into it. “You, eh, might wanna get some anger issues management help. Friendly word of advice.”
“Get out!” Corvus screams, face hot with anger and eyes pricking with tears, ready to strangle her with his bare hands.
“Okay, okay! I’m leaving!” Nyx shoulders her backpack and only makes it a few feet into the air before reconsidering. She comes back down another bit, hesitant with downcast eyes. “Um, be careful with him. He’s a good man. Savor the people you have to look out for and who look out for you.”
Corvus turns away from her. “I will.”
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shadowxamyweek · 1 year
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Shadow lets his head finally fall into his hands.
They're sitting on an upturned bucket in the garage out behind the casino, the open bay door letting the smell of rain waft in from the alley alongside the buzz of early morning traffic.
He tries to swallow his heart, its frantic pulse clogging his throat, but it will not budge.
An ear twitches. Shadow listens to the flickies that have nested under the lamp outside as he drags his hands down his face.
He'll need to buy more bird feed soon. Spring is coming. There will be more of them.
Yes, yes that is a safe thought to entertain.
Shadow sits up as he goes over the logistics; How long does he need to feed then? How much food does he need to buy? Where can he get it on sale? Where can he store it?
Easy problems, with simple solutions. He's done this all before.
Shadow breathes in.
The attempt at peace is short-lived. Shadow hears Omega behind them, coming down the stairs from the apartment long before the door opens with a bang.
"ROUGE REQUESTS YOUR PRESENCE."
Shadow waves a dismissive hand.
"I BELIEVE YOU SHOULD BE AWARE THAT ROUGE GRANTED ME AUTHORIZATION TO BODILY TAKE YOU UPSTAIRS IF YOU DO NOT COMPLY WITH HER SUMMONS."
His shoulders go taunt, tight fists curling in his lap.
"You wouldn't."
"INCORRECT." Omega's heavy footfalls and hissing pistons do little to hide the peculiar whirring of a processor fan, the closest thing to a chuckle the robot has, as they approach. "I FIND THE CONCEPT ENTERTAINING. GIVEN THE OPPORTUNITY TO, QUOTE, "CARRY SHADOW LIKE THE BIG BABY THEY ARE," ENDQUOTE, I WILL PROCEED WITH GREAT ENJOYMENT."
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tears-of-xion · 2 months
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Have a sneak peak anyway! (I'm writing this in present tense, which I normally do not do, as an exercise) ---------------------- The past steps out, at once familiar and wrong. The raucous din of too many people of too great importance follows in her wake until the doors click closed, then she is alone. That much at least, is constant. So too are the stripes, the stark black on white that always encircled her. Her ponytail, fulsome and even less contained than before, that too remains and brings an odd comfort to him. Who would she be without it? Who is she now with it though? Her steps are slow, but not timid. The ballerina has returned, poise even when there are no admirers. His green cat’s eyes pick out the thoughtful motes in her blue, it feels wrong. She holds a wine glass, forgotten in one hand. The rosé swirling within carries its notes to his enhanced senses. Perhaps it carries the alcohol too, for despite all his foreboding he commits to his course. Cat Walker coils, and leaps.
:D Yay a sneak peak!
Okay, but I adore how well you painted the scene!! I can see it so clearly in my mind's eye!
Love how you described Chloe, especially since it's coming from Adrien POV and you really captured how long he's known her.
I loved this!! Definitely makes me excited to see what the finished product will be!
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what if I just go through the 10k i have written and rewrite it to be in present tense instead of past tense. I just can’t with the past tense, I don’t know how anything works anymore and my sense of pacing and timing is all wonky and AUGH. AUGH. BLECH. 
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rollercoasterwords · 8 months
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rae do you have any tips on like verb tenses when it comes to writing? as an immigrant who never properly learned english grammar i struggle with it so much when im writing fiction especially. i feel like i always mix up tenses and never know when is appropriate to use one over the other idk.
hmmm well i may not be the best person 2 advise on this bc english is my first language so bear that in mind but! it might help to like. consciously pick a single tense that ur gonna write the fic in & then read back over & just pay specific attention 2 verbs & make sure they're all in the same tense. & when doing this i will say i think present tense is generally easier to write in than past tense (even though past tense tends to be the norm in published fiction) bc like. if ur writing a fic in simple present tense then it's easier to be like "ok here i'm talking about past so i can just use simple paste tense and here i can just use simple future tense," whereas if ur writing in past tense u have 2 start pulling out the "had" phrases etc if ur talking abt the past in past-tense & things get more complicated...like it's easier to conjugate "He says it's true. But earlier, he lied." than "He said it was true. But earlier, he had lied." y'know?
i've had cases before where i forgot what tense i was writing in & had to go back through & change everything to match the same tense so i know it can def be a pain lol but that's also why i think like...consciously going "ok i'm writing in present [or whatever u choose] tense" at the beginning of the writing process makes it a bit easier, bc then u know that no matter what ur writing it should be in that tense. & where it gets tricky is when u have to start talking abt past/future/conditionals/etc but like i said i think writing in present tense makes that a bit easier bc it's usually the tense that we're most familiar with & so it can sometimes be easier to figure out "weird" verb conjugations within the present tense. basing this advice also from my experience learning other languages where like...i have a way easier time conjugating simple present/past/future tense than trying 2 get into any of the more complicated grammar lol
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healmydesires · 3 days
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cross that line ꕤ (l.h)
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pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
summary: For a long time, you were content hiding your feelings, but lately, the longing for someone you can’t have has become unbearable. Despite knowing he could never be yours, you still cherished the sweet ache in your heart whenever he smiled or gave you a warm, platonic hug. Then, one day, everything changed.
genre: fluff + angst + smut (18+ mdni)
word count: 14k (14k on the dot to be precise but yeah uhm. sorry. I swear I'm normal)
warnings/tags: friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, thunderstorms, idiots in love, mutual pining, assumed unrequited love, jealous!reader, reader is described as shorter than logan, emotional!reader, miscommunication kinda, inexperienced/virgin!reader, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, piv sex, soft!dom logan, ok… just in overall bye, logan is soft for reader, sub!reader, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, overstimulation, major size kink, praise kink, dirty talk, oral fixation. some daddy kink? breeding kink aaaaa sorry. I wrote this while ovulating. they’re both FREAKS. scent kink? lots of pet names. this is high key sweet and turns filthy. logan is worshipping his sweet girl ok! reader is a mutant. reader has hair, no further description though. this is not beta read sorry!
a/n: GUESS WHAT!!! user healmydesires is back with another self indulgent fic about a new blorbo! I’ve been having all random kinds of scenarios about logan in my head and I just didn’t know which type of story to go with. until I felt like there weren’t much of inexperienced/virgin reader fics for logan and tbh… that’s kinda my brand (I’m high key kidding but lowkey that’s what I love to write the most) if you’ve read my works so. I thought I’ll write what I WANT to read. so this is high key self indulgent. english isn’t my first language so pls bear with me <3 also ngl.. a lot of it is just smut 😭 I literally wrote this while ovulating… EDIT (19/09): I kinda edited it a bit because it had a lot of grammar mistakes and I'd often jump from present tense to past tense so ye
this goes without saying, but if you don't like it don't read it <3
AO3 • masterlist
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Being roommates with your best friend had its perks. You were together almost all the time, sharing both the big and small moments. As fellow teachers, you could easily swap teaching tips, lend each other a hand with tasks, or offer guidance when you were feeling stuck. Your tall best friend effortlessly reached the top shelves, and you both enjoyed laughter-filled moments during movie marathons. Sharing responsibilities became more fun too—splitting chores like cooking and laundry felt easy and natural. Plus, there was comfort in knowing your best friend was always dependable, ready to support you whenever you needed it. And whenever you were in need of a hug, your best friend was probably already ready to envelop you in his warm embrace.
But it also had its disadvantages.
Especially considering that Logan Howlett, your best friend, was quite the menace.
Logan had always had a rugged handsomeness that effortlessly made people swoon all around him. It wasn't fair how pretty he was. He had always been lucky with finding partners—or rather, when it came to finding bed or sexual partners. He'd often bring those one-night stands or partners to your shared apartment only to have sex with them. Logan had never been the type to stick with one person, always preferring flings over long-term relationships. Or so you thought.
You, on the other hand, had always craved a long-term relationship. You dreamed of finding your true love—someone to share adventures with, to have fun with, and to dive into deep, meaningful and random conversations. You loved the idea of being with someone who let you be your true self, where you could spend hours talking about the most random things—discussing your favourite TV shows one minute, and passionately criticising capitalism and the world the next. You were all about affection, from kissing to being held, but you also longed to hold your partner close and make them feel cherished, just as much as you wanted to feel loved in return.
Unfortunately, you had never had the chance to experience anything like that.
It wasn't like you had never had the chance or had the opportunity to explore and possibly experience a potential relationship. You had just never been really interested in creating a relationship with a stranger.
Plus the thing was, your best friend wasn't just your best friend. You had been in love with Logan for god knows how long.
Charles Xavier was the one who had introduced you both, years ago. You remembered that day very vividly.
You had just arrived at the Xavier Institute, and the professor had offered you a two-sided job, to be a teacher at the school and be part of the X-Men.
You'd always done your best to keep your powers hidden, but being welcomed into a school designed for people like you—a mutant—felt incredibly liberating. That's why you hadn't hesitated when Charles Xavier invited you to his school. You'd always known you were powerful, with the ability to control and manipulate water, but you had kept your abilities a secret, not wanting to be treated any differently in a world that didn't really like or understand people like you.
As the professor took you around the grounds, you couldn't help but be impressed by how big and beautiful it all was.
You were so captivated by the mansion's grandeur and stunning architecture that you didn't even notice a guy casually leaning against the nearest wall outside of Charles's office. But the moment your eyes met his, it felt as if time itself stood still. Looking into Logan's eyes, you felt like you could drown in them. You had never seen anyone so effortlessly handsome.
Completely entranced by him, you almost forgot to introduce yourself. Your body heated up in the moment, and the professor definitely noticed. Logan Howlett gave you a knowing smirk, making the warmth inside you intensify even more.
That day you both became friends, though you still didn't quite understand why, given how different you both were. Logan was gruff and blunt, while you, though capable of being direct, tended to choose your words more carefully. He was passionate and strong-willed and opinionated, and sometimes he let that get the best of him. You were deeply in tune with your emotions, while he always seemed to hold back, keeping certain feelings tightly guarded. Logan was never one to be very straightforward with his emotions. He would rather keep most of them to himself, and didn't want to seem too vulnerable. Communication was something you valued and needed a lot, but Logan, by contrast, didn't seem to rely on it as much. You were an overthinker, always caught up in your thoughts, and he would often step in to ease those worries of yours.
You could say that opposites attract.
Over time, your friendship grew, and one day he asked if you'd like to move in with him into a new apartment near the institute. He craved a bit more peace and genuinely enjoyed your company. It seemed like a good idea, so you thought, why not?
You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with your roommate. All you knew was that one day, you were suddenly overcome by an emotion so intense, it was unlike anything you'd ever felt before. It hit you all at once. Before Logan, you'd never really had a serious crush, never experienced feelings this powerful for anyone. You often told yourself it must have started shortly after you moved in with him, but deep down, you knew that wasn't the truth. This feeling had been quietly growing from the very first moment you met him, slowly building until it became impossible to ignore.
It was funny, you thought, how life had a way of bringing you things—and people—you never realised you needed. People like Logan, who became so essential that you couldn't help but wonder how you had ever lived without them. People like Logan Howlett, who somehow managed to be both your saving grace and your greatest temptation.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
A few months into your roommate arrangement, you still couldn't get used to Logan constantly bringing one-night stands to your shared apartment. It was pure torment.
As you ate cereal at the kitchen island, one of Logan's many one-night stands quietly slipped out of the apartment. You rolled your eyes, as Logan routinely walked them through the apartment to the door, their faces often adorned with sly smiles as they fluttered their eyelashes at him. A knot of anger twisted in your belly as you watched them play with the collar of his shirt, their fingers lingering while he made no move to pull away. You'd never felt such intense rage before. He responded with a grunt as they would casually give him a goodbye kiss.
You hated experiencing feelings like these. It was a gross emotion, a heavy sensation that felt thick and tar-like, clinging to your chest and making you ache with its heavy weight.
Anxiety? Sure, you were often more anxious than most mutants, but that wasn't the feeling you had at this moment. Maybe it was jealousy? You disliked how that emotion fit so easily on your tongue, leaving a bitter taste.
Each time you witnessed these scenes unfold, jealousy and frustration would wash over you. Or how you'd feel utterly awful whenever you accidentally overheard them having sex.
As Logan reentered the apartment and closed the door behind him, you couldn't help but snort. “So, what number are we up to now?”
He stared at you for a moment, before chuckling and shaking his head with a smirk. “Not sure, lost count.” He shrugged, grabbed an apple from the fruit basket on the kitchen island, and took a bite.
“What was their name?” you asked, staring daggers at your bowl of cereal.
Logan shrugged again. “I don't know, and honestly, I don't care,” he replied curtly before walking away.
You couldn't understand how he could be so nonchalant about this situation.
It wasn't just jealousy; you longed for any kind of affection or love from Logan, more than you ever thought possible. You were grateful to be his best friend and you knew it might seem foolish to hope for a chance with him, but you couldn't help yourself. Deep down, you feared you'd always feel this lonely, believing you could never fall for anyone but him. He was everything you craved and needed in life.
You felt foolish, constantly embarrassed and rejected. More than anything, you felt hurt, knowing that you were the only one to blame. It was your own feelings that had caused all this pain.
The thought of him one day falling in love with someone else made your stomach sink, but you pushed and suppressed your sadness aside daily. It didn't really matter—Logan was free to date whoever he wanted. He was your best friend, only his best friend.
One day, you'd have to come to terms with the fact that he would always be just your best friend.
You just hoped that one day it would become easier to deal with these feelings.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
It was the middle of a cold winter night — the air cool against your skin, even with your large pink puffer jacket to keep you warm. The thick curtain of night enveloped the sky, painting it a deep midnight blue, with stars twinkling like the clearest diamonds. Despite the cool ambient air, you found yourself relaxing, your shoulders gradually easing.
“You see that there?” you pointed up at the starlit sky, leaning unconsciously into Logan's warmth as you both lay on the grass of the X-mansion grounds. “That's the Pleiades. People often mistake it for the Little Dipper, but it's just a star cluster.”
Logan hummed, but his eyes were focused on you, how you gazed up at the stars with an awestruck expression. A gentle smile tugged at his lips, as he enjoyed how you looked so endearing as you were so engrossed in the stars that you loved so dearly.
He glanced up at the part of the sky you were pointing to, located the cluster of stars you had mentioned. He studied it for a moment and thought he had seen something similar to the Pleiades before, but never illuminated in the night sky like this. Logan's gaze then returned to the earth, settling back on the grass where he lay beside you.
“Beautiful,” Logan whispered as he stared at you. “Truly beautiful.”
You were too busy gazing up at the sky to realise that he wasn't talking about the sky.
For as long as you could remember, you had loved the night sky, finding its dark embrace profoundly comforting. More than that, you adored the stars—coming out at night to bask in their radiance, with their distant coldness soothing your soul.
You had always felt so mesmerised about the universe, especially the stars and the moon. They appeared beautiful, glittering magnificently beside one another as they hovered in the upper stratosphere.
“Why did you bring me out here, Lo?” you finally asked, looking up at your best friend. You noticed him smirk down at you and saw a fleeting hint of hesitant insecurity in his green eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.
He shrugged against you, still grinning. “I know how much you enjoy stargazing, and I'm aware you've had a rough week, so I wanted to give you a chance to relax for a bit.”
You softened as you gazed up at him. Logan was right—you had been having a rough week. The children had been sweet, but the workload had been overwhelming. You couldn't help but appreciate how Logan was always looking out for you.
“Thank you…” you whispered.
“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He winked before he looked back up at the sky. “Why don't you show me another constellation?”
You giggled as you pointed out another cluster of stars, but more often than not, Logan found it hard to focus on the stars. After all, he had a bright light of his own by his side daily that captured all of his attention.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
A year had passed since you moved in with Logan, and autumn was already around the corner. The temperature was gradually dropping, and the air became crisper. The trees' leaves were starting to fade from vibrant greens to tamer shades of bronze and gold. You had always loved this time of year—it was that perfect season where you could bundle up in layers when you were outside, then retreat indoors in the evenings, getting cosy with a hot chocolate and a good book.
It was during seasons like this that you found yourself wishing you could cuddle up with someone, enjoying a movie or simply each other's company. But it wasn't just anyone you wanted by your side—it had always been Logan for you.
For the longest time, you were content in just keeping all your feelings hidden. Lately, though, the longing had been getting harder to bear. Wanting someone you knew you couldn't have was starting to feel unbearable, slowly eating away at you. And even though you knew he could never be yours, it didn't stop you from savouring the sweet ache in your heart every time he smiled or when he pulled you into a warm, platonic hug.
All the stupid fluttery feelings in your stomach every time his eyes would catch yours, or the way your heart beat fast whenever you were in close proximity to him. You knew it had been years since you'd known Logan, but you couldn't help the effect he always had on you. The way he left you yearning for more. But, of course, you tried to bury those feelings down deep, reminding yourself that Logan could never feel the same way about you as you felt about him.
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One lazy afternoon, with no classes scheduled for you to teach, you found yourself by the lake on the X-Mansion grounds, practising your water bending. The water flowed seamlessly around you as you moved your arms, bending it effortlessly to your will. As you went through each movement, you could feel a pair of eyes on you, observing every precise motion, your muscles tensing with each fluid shift. A light sheen of sweat formed on your brow, and your face held a fierce look of concentration as you focused on perfecting your stance and movements.
Several moments had passed, and the person watching you still hadn't spoken a word. By now, you were almost certain it wasn't just anyone—it had to be Logan. Anyone else would have said something by now, maybe greeted you or asked about your training. But not Logan. He had a way of lingering in silence, watching you in that quietly intense way of his, never feeling the need to fill the space with unnecessary words.
“Well, are you just going to stand there and stare, or do you plan on saying something?” you asked, a playful smile tugging at your lips.
Logan grunted, “I think I'll just keep watching. I quite like the view from here.”
A flush of warmth spread across your face, butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach at his words. You hesitated for a moment, pausing your movements before he spoke again.
“Don't stop on my account, sweetheart.”
You knew he was wearing one of his signature grins, and you so desperately wanted to wipe it off his face. As you grew more flustered, a wave of frustration built up inside you—how could this man always have such an effect on you? An idea sparked in your mind, a mischievous smirk tugging at your lips. Deciding to continue your water bending practice while he watched, you let the water flow effortlessly around you, fully aware of his eyes tracking your every move.
Once a peaceful stillness settled in the air, you saw your opening. Without warning, you spun around with swift precision, bending the water toward him and drenching him in seconds.
Logan stood there, completely perplexed as you broke into a fit of giggles. He was drenched from head to toe, and you knew it wouldn't be long before he sprang into action. Sure enough, just seconds later, he smirked again, though this time it carried a sharper edge. “You think this is funny, bub?”
“Yeah, I kinda do,” you replied between laughs, unable to contain yourself.
But then, Logan's grin turned devious, and with a determined march, he began closing the distance between you. Your eyes widened in realisation, and without thinking, you bolted away.
“You're not getting away with this, princess,” he called out, his voice low as he gave chase.
He moved swiftly through the gardens, but you were quicker, slipping just out of sight every time he got close. His eyes darted around, scanning the area, frustration slowly turning into determination. You could hear him muttering under his breath, his footsteps getting louder as he searched for you. Your heart raced as you ducked behind a tree, trying to stifle your laughter. The thrill of the chase had adrenaline coursing through your veins.
For a moment, you thought you had lost him, but then he sniffed and just as you peeked around the tree, you saw him spot you from across the grove. His eyes gleamed with mischief as a smirk curled at the corner of his lips. “I got you,” he muttered before he moved towards you with renewed speed. You tried to slip away again, but it was too late—he had you cornered.
Soon enough, two strong arms caged you in, trapping you between the tree and his chest. A startled yelp escaped your lips as you tried to back away, only to realise there was nowhere to go. “Gotcha,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, the familiar playful glint in his eyes making your heart race even faster.
You squirmed, trying to find a way out, but his grip tightened just enough to keep you in place without being overbearing. “Logan! Let me go,” you protested, laughter bubbling up in your throat despite your attempt to sound serious.
“Thought you could get away that easily, huh?” he teased, leaning in so close that you could feel his wet clothes and the warmth of his body. The heat from his proximity spread across your own, making you acutely aware of how close you were. You bit your lip, your cheeks becoming hotter as his smirk widened. The sight of your flustered expression seemed to delight him, his satisfaction evident in his playful gaze.
“Well, this is cosy,” you remarked, but your voice barely rose above a whisper. There was a tremor in your tone, one that matched the rapid beat of your heart.
“Hm, I think so too,” he responded with the same teasing tone. You gazed up at him with bright eyes as the golden hour of evening cast a warm glow around you both. It took all his willpower not to look away, not to acknowledge the tension that hung thick in the air.
You shifted against the tree, searching for a different way to elicit a reaction from him. Your touch light, almost accidental, but it sent a shockwave through him, his breath hitching in his throat. You could feel him stiffen, sensing the tension as he reacted to your contact.
He leaned in, just enough that he could feel your breath against his skin, just enough that the space between you became almost non-existent, and just enough to hear your breath hitch.
Logan closed his eyes, as he pressed his forehead against your own. Every time he tried to speak, the words got tangled up in the mess of emotions swirling inside him. All he could think about was how close you were, how your touch burned through him, how the smell of you, that unique soft scent of yours, filled his senses and made him want to lose himself in you.
“Lo—”
Before you could finish, Ororo's voice rang out, calling your name. You felt a wave of disappointment wash over you as you realised your moment with Logan was interrupted. You had forgotten about the promise to cook together with her and Jean, and your friend's timing burst the bubble of what you thought might finally be a shared moment with him.
He grunted in frustration, pulling away from you and looking off to the side. Ororo, Jean, and even Scott soon found their way to you, their presence drawing closer. As they approached, each of them wore a grin that suggested they had noticed the tension between you and Logan. The air was thick with unspoken understanding, and it was clear that your friends had picked up on the charged moment that had just been interrupted.
You cleared your throat and stepped reluctantly away from Logan, trying to regain your composure. You forced a smile as you addressed your friends, saying, “Sorry to keep you guys waiting.” You then walked away with Jean and Ororo towards the mansion, though you couldn't help glancing back over your shoulder. Each time you looked, a hint of longing appeared on your face as you cast a final, wistful glance at Logan.
As you walked away, you heard Scott remark, “You look wet.”
Logan responded with a huff, “Fuck off, Summers.”
You couldn't help but wonder what would've happened if your friends wouldn't have interrupted you.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
It had been Friday evening, and you were in your office at the institute, finishing up grading the last of the papers while waiting for Logan. The two of you had plans to head home together, but he had yet to come and find you. Growing impatient, you decided to look for him yourself. You grabbed your bag and jacket before going out of your office, closing the door silently behind you. The smell of stew wafted through the mansion as you jogged down the stairs from your office to the kitchen. You quietly approached and paused when you saw him with Jean. She was chopping vegetables, while Logan leaned against the island, holding a cup of coffee.
“I don't see why you don't just do it. Everyone can see how perfect you two are for each other,” Jean had sighed.
Your eyes widened and you bit your lip nervously as you instinctively hid behind the wall. You truly hoped Logan wouldn't smell your scent while hiding, considering his heightened sense of smell. You knew you shouldn't be eavesdropping, but your curiosity had gotten the better of you. Jean's words had left you intrigued about what they were discussing.
Logan huffed, “I've already told you—” he tried arguing, but Jean cut him off mid-sentence.
“Logan, come on,” Jean said pointedly. “You keep denying it, but everyone here has seen the two of you dance around each other for years. You can't honestly tell me that you're just friends. Friends don't act the way you two do with each other.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” Logan asked, tilting his head to the side. Your stomach churned as you realised they were talking about the two of you. Silently, you pressed your back against the wall and shuffled further behind it, continuing to listen.
“It means that friends don't stare at each other longingly, or they don't flirt with each other, and they certainly don't cuddle together while sharing the same bed,” Jean said, emphasising her point as Logan began to argue. “Besides,” she continued, “you've known her for a while now. There's no one you've been more comfortable with than her. We all know you'll look after each other and be happy together. So why haven't you done anything about it? All we want is for you both to be happy,” Jean concluded.
You bit your lip at her words, feeling a mix of hope and nervousness churn in your stomach. With trembling fingers, you held your breath, waiting for Logan's response. When you heard him sigh, you felt your world begin to crumble around you.
“Yeah, but Jean, it's not like that. We are not like that. We're just friends,” Logan had replied. You had pressed your teeth harshly into your lip, biting down so hard you feared you might draw blood. It was the only thing keeping you from sobbing out loud. Logan's words replayed over and over in your mind. While you had always known he felt that way, hearing it confirmed so casually had left your heart breaking.
Not wanting to listen any longer, you silently turned and hurried toward the main entrance, trying to be as quiet as possible. Once outside, tears flooded your vision as you ran to the mansion gates, searching through your bag for your phone to call a cab. Since you hadn't brought your car and had driven in with Logan that morning, calling a cab was your only option.
When the cab finally arrived, you slid into the backseat and gave the driver your instructions. As he drove you home, you took a deep breath, struggling to swallow the lump in your throat. Your breath came in labored gasps as you fought to keep from breaking down in tears. Your mind was running a mile a minute as you tried to process his words. Silently you let the tears flow down your cheeks.
When you arrived at your building, you paid the cab and noticed your phone buzzing incessantly. You quickly silenced it as you entered your apartment, not bothering to look at who was trying to contact you.
Once you entered your bedroom, you broke down just then as you let out a choked sob while stripping off your clothes. With great effort, you managed to put on your pyjamas before climbing into bed. Soon, you would let your destructive thoughts take over. Deep down, you knew you shouldn't have eavesdropped on their conversation and jumped to conclusions, especially since Logan wasn't done speaking with Jean. But you couldn't bear to stay and listen any longer. You felt too vulnerable as you let his words echo inside your head.
You had been ignoring all the texts from your friends and the calls from Logan specifically, too drained to even hold a conversation.
Eventually, you felt sleep overtaking you, utterly exhausted from a long workweek and an emotionally draining evening.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
That same night, you had jolted awake to the sound of a loud rumble. Outside, storm clouds loomed ominously over the city, with thunder crackling through them every few minutes. The storm had been raging outside your apartment, with thunder booming so fiercely it shook the windows. Curled up in your bed, you had whimpered softly, clutching a thick blanket tightly around you—not just for warmth, but for comfort and a sense of protection.
You had never liked thunderstorms, and by now, you must have tried a thousand different ways to distract yourself from them. You'd put on headphones to drown out the noise, but the knowledge of the storm outside still fed your anxiety. Thunderstorms always had a way of making you feel small and utterly helpless.
You felt a tightness building in your chest as you trembled beneath the sheets. Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to steady your breathing and calm yourself down. In moments like these, you felt truly helpless. You knew you shouldn't feel ashamed for being this terrified, but you couldn't help it.
You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on the song playing through your headphones, desperate to drown out the storm. Moments later, you felt the bed dip. Slowly, you opened your eyes and found Logan sitting at the end of your bed, his soft gaze fixed on you with a look of quiet concern. A wave of relief washed over you just at the sight of him. Part of you wanted to ignore him and continue being upset with everything that had happened earlier that evening, but you couldn't find the power to do so. After all, he probably didn't even know why you were upset and who were you even kidding, he was everything you needed.
He was sitting there shirtless, dressed only in a pair of grey sweatpants. His hair was tousled from sleep. If it weren't for the sheer terror you felt because of the storm outside, you knew your cheeks would be burning at the sight of him like this. You noticed his mouth moving and, reluctantly, you slid one headphone off your ear to hear him.
“W-what?” you squeaked, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Sweetheart,” Logan whispered cautiously into the darkness.
At the sound of his voice, the tears that had been brimming in your eyes finally spilled down your cheeks. “I'm so sorry, I feel so stupid,” you whispered, taking off your headphones and quickly trying to wipe your tears away, embarrassed by your emotions and the fact that you were terrified by the storm.
Seconds later Logan was climbing up the bed and he was lying right next to you. His strong arms wrapped around your shaking form almost immediately, holding you tightly.
“Shhh it's okay sweet girl, I've got you,” he whispered softly as he kissed your temple. Warmth spread through you at the action and you melted into his embrace.
“I hate being scared of them, Lo,” you mumbled into his chest as he squeezed you tightly.
“It's okay princess, I got you. I won't let anything happen to you.” His hands, surprisingly soft, were stroking your skin in a soothing manner as he continued to press soft kisses around the top of your head.
As Logan held you, you felt yourself slowly begin to calm down. Even though the storm showed no signs of letting up, his presence made you feel much more at ease and secure. Logan meant everything to you—he was your anchor.
“Please, stay,” you whispered as the last few tears slipped down your cheeks.
In the dark, Logan whispered your name and tightened his embrace. “I'm not going anywhere, baby girl.”
As Logan held you close, you felt your body relax gradually. He gently ran his hand through your hair, pulling the covers over both of you and adding an extra layer of warmth.
You reflected on how he often spoke to you and the way he treated you with such care. You couldn't help but overthink his sweet and gentle treatment. You knew you were more emotional and needed extra reassurance and patience, but you had never considered that he might actually have feelings for you beyond friendship. You often felt like a burden to your friends and especially to Logan. You were fairly certain you were the only one he treated this way. His teasing sometimes seemed like it could be flirting, and despite your attempts to deny it, deep down you sensed that you were somehow special to him. 
But another part of you couldn't shake what he had said earlier that night to Jean. You felt deeply conflicted and confused about everything happening between the two of you. The uncertainty and mixed emotions left you struggling to understand his true feelings, unsure of how to navigate the situation.
So you did what felt best to you, which was communicating. Even if you hated confrontation so much, you hated being unsure even more.
“Lo?” your voice trembled as you whispered against him.
“Yeah, sweet girl?” He said gently.
You took a little longer to respond, lost in your own thoughts, overthinking everything. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest. Sensing your hesitation, Logan spoke up again, breaking through your spiralling mind.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice lingering in the air as your eyes fluttered open. His head was tilted slightly, worry etched across his face.
“'M-am fine… I just—” you stuttered, your voice cracking. Logan stared at you, waiting patiently for you to finish. “I need to talk about something, or-or it will probably eat me alive if I don't.”
Logan's brow furrowed as his concern deepened, but he remained patient, waiting for you to continue.
“I- I overheard you and Jean earlier tonight…” your voice barely above a whisper.
Recognition settled over him at your words. He sighed shortly after. “What exactly did you hear?”
“You said…” your voice faltered, cracking slightly before you took a deep breath, closing your eyes. “You said we weren't like 'that,' and that we were just friends. After hearing that, I couldn't stay. It hurt too much.” You paused, your words tumbling out in a rush. “I know I shouldn't have eavesdropped, and I'm sorry... I just—” Your voice trailed off as you buried your face in his chest, your rambling finally coming to an end.
He let out a deep sigh, pulling you closer into his embrace. One of his hands gently cupped your cheek, causing your breath to hitch at the contact. “Sweetheart,” he said, his voice steady but filled with warmth. Slowly, you opened your eyes, tears welling up as you met his gaze. Logan's expression softened, and he let out a soothing sound. “Angel, if you'd stayed a little longer, you would've heard the rest of the conversation.”
“W-what?” You squeaked, your heart pounding against your chest as you anxiously waited for him to continue.
“First of all,” he began, locking eyes with you as he spoke, “I told Jean that I couldn't tell you how I felt because I never thought you'd feel the same way. I figured you were better off not knowing how I feel about you because…” His voice faltered for a moment, a heavy sigh escaping him before he continued, “I've always believed I didn't deserve someone like you. Someone so beautiful, so patient, intelligent, caring and so sweet.”
“Lo—” It was difficult to process everything he had said. You had been so sure that he didn't feel anything more than platonic for you, so hearing that he did was overwhelming and you needed to let it sink in. “I just thought... you know, with all the people you've had over in the past, you wouldn't feel anything for me,” you said, your sadness making it hard to finish the sentence and your nerves bracing for the words you had been dreading to hear.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
“I know it sounds stupid, but I kept convincing myself that if I would have meaningless sex with random people that I would get over you. That if I told you how I felt, I’d lose you,” he went on, his vulnerability tugging at your heart. “That’s the last thing I want. You mean too much to me to risk that. I love you, and the thought of losing you—even if it meant not having you the way I wanted—was unbearable.”
Tears welled in your eyes, slowly slipping down your cheeks as he poured out his heart, leaving you in disbelief. You hiccuped through your tears, “You... y-you love me?”
His expression softened further as he took in your puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. Gently, he used his hands to wipe away the tears that were slipping down your cheeks, handling you with far more tenderness and care than you had shown yourself earlier.
“Of course I do,” he replied softly. “In every universe, there's no one I love more than you.”
“Logan, you deserve me. Just as much as I deserve you,” you said, cupping his cheeks as tears continued to stream down your own. “You don't have an idea how much I love you.”
Logan smiled softly before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. His arms tightened around you as he began to pepper your face with tender kisses. You couldn't help but giggle against him, feeling the tension between you both melt away bit by bit. The tears slowly came to a stop.
As the emotional intensity of the moment subsided, you felt a sense of relief and contentment. The storm outside seemed to fade into the background as you basked in the warmth of your newfound understanding. You knew that challenges would still come, but facing them together felt infinitely more manageable now that you had acknowledged your feelings for each other.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
After placing a final kiss on the tip of your nose, he pulled back, his gaze filled with such deep affection that it left you feeling overwhelmed—but in the best possible way.
Logan caressed your face with fondness as he admired you. “You’re beautiful.”
You’d feel flustered instantly. “You’re so handsome Logan.” You whispered timidly. 
“Really?” He’d smile down at you. 
“Yes,” you whispered, continuing to meet his gaze shyly, your heart racing as his touch lingered on your skin.
You felt his hand slip beneath the hem of your nightshirt, his fingers tracing the soft skin of your back. A shiver ran down your spine at his touch, drawing his playful gaze as his eyes glinted mischievously. Your breath hitched when his other hand brushed against your bottom lip, sending warmth flooding through your body as his touch became more intimate, exploring you with quiet intensity.
“Do I make you nervous?” he teased with a devious grin.
“I guess you do,” you admitted, biting your lip bashfully.
“And why's that?” Logan asked, leaning in even closer. You could feel his breath against your lips, his nose brushing gently against yours. 
There’s a moment of silence as Logan’s face moves closer and closer to your own, both unable to verbalise just how desperate either of you feel for each other.
His hands are warm as they wander all over your back, underneath the soft fabric of your pyjamas. Your eyes flutter close as you enjoy his attention. You feel yourself get lightheaded by his affection and by the close proximity of your bodies.
As your eyes remained locked with his, the intensity between you grew. You found yourself studying every detail of Logan’s face—the small moles scattered across his skin, his beautiful green eyes, the rough stubble along his jawline. Your gaze drifted from his eyes, down the slope of his nose, until you were irresistibly drawn to his lips. His mouth looks so inviting.
How much you’ve dreamed of having them on your own.
You swallowed dryly at the intensity behind his eyes, your heart beating madly in your chest. A flare of heat rushed to your cheeks as you resolved to reveal the truth. You didn’t want to keep it from him any longer, especially with him looking at you as if he was about to devour you.
“B-because I—” you finally spoke as you stumbled over your words. You felt weak in his presence, but in the best way imaginable. Heat spreads through your body, a feverish sensation overwhelming your senses. Your heart raced, refusing to calm down, and your limbs trembled uncontrollably. It wasn’t the kind of fever that came with illness, but a warmth—tingling, like anticipation coursing through your veins. You whimpered as the same warmth settled between your thighs. “I need y-yo—”
Before you could finish your sentence, his lips crashed onto yours, kissing you with an intensity and passion that left you trembling and helpless, while soft whimpers escaped your throat. He’d tug your body fully closer against his own as his mouth claimed yours.
All your thoughts overwhelmed your brain, disabling any rational understanding of what was going on. Gradually, you leaned into Logan, melting into his embrace. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed him back.
Logan groaned as he continued to kiss you with a fierce intensity, giving everything he had. You felt his tongue tracing your lips slowly. Knowing what he wanted you parted your mouth slightly, allowing him to slip his tongue inside and swirl it around yours.
You absorbed all his passion, savouring the warmth of his closeness and the sensation of his rough yet soft hands holding you tightly. You didn’t want to ask how this was happening, nor did you dare question whether it was real or just a dream.
One of his hands roamed over the bare skin of your back beneath your pyjama shirt, leaving goosebumps in his wake, while the other explored the tender curve of your neck. He held you with such tenderness as his mouth continued to move ferociously against yours.
You whimpered against him as warmth and wetness continued to pool between your thighs, your pussy throbbing as his voice rumbled with a chuckle. “You okay there, kitten?” he asked softly, his voice low as his lips brushed against your jaw.
You knew he could smell your arousal, knew he could hear how fast your heart was beating. You bit your lip, trying to stifle another sound, and you tried to bury your face into his chest, feeling the heat spreading across your face and body. Logan was having none of that, his lips quickly reunited with yours. He groaned softly, a deep rumble in his chest, as you trailed your tongue out to seek purchase in his mouth, and he opened for you without hesitation. His hands gripped at your waist and brought your body flush against his.
You wanted Logan to consume your very being. Claim you as his completely.
Soft little noises of pleasure kept leaving your mouth as he continued to kiss you. His lips pressed against yours, guiding the kiss with a gentle control that made you melt into his embrace. You surrendered completely, letting him lead as you revelled in the sensation. He was so good at kissing that all you wanted was to stay in this moment with him forever.
He pulled away after what felt like hours to breathe, his warm pants fanning across your heated face. He was still holding your face with one hand, and his thumb on your cheek moved a little, stroking your skin with so much tenderness. Murmuring against your lips, he said, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long. I love you so much.” before delving back in for more.
You whimpered as he nipped at your bottom lip, then gently swiped his tongue over it to soothe the sting. You gasped, and Logan seized the moment to explore the inside of your mouth with his tongue once again. As the kiss grew more heated, you moaned, feeling lightheaded and dizzy.
Surprisingly, you completely forgot about the storm that’s raging outside.
Logan devoured you, pouring all his love into you and claiming your mouth and kissing you with so much passion, your body shuddered with want, from the need for him. He moved his lips with yours and swirled his tongue with your own. His hand then moved to tangle in your hair as he pressed his body to yours completely.
Your hands moved to bury in his hair as well. When you pulled at his hair it was a bit rougher than you intended to and it tips his head all the way back and he lets out a loud, wanton moan that makes your whole body flush with arousal. You whined as he finally pulled away, as he left your body flush and panting and craving so much more.
His mouth then moved from your lips to your cheeks as he whispered his love for you again and again. He started trailing long, hot kisses down your jaw and neck. You whimpered pitifully as he suckled lightly on the side of your neck, tilting your head back instinctively to bare more of your soft skin to him.
“Fuck, baby, you’re everything.” He groaned as he bit down gently on the junction of your neck and shoulder. You cried out, impulsively grinding your hips against his own, desperately searching for some much needed friction against your throbbing clit. “You’re mine.” He’d growl against your skin.
You gasped, your eyes flying open when you felt his erection pressing against your pussy. You moaned as your core started clenching around nothing, begging for some attention, his attention.
Logan groaned as you continued to grind against him, grasping your hips into his hands to halt your movements. You whined in protest, as he then rolled you both over, hovering above you as he pinned your arms gently against the mattress.
“So needy.” He chuckled as a devious smile would grow on his face. “Does your sweet little pussy want some attention?” He grinned when you whimpered underneath him, before he continued. “I can always smell how much you need me.” He growled before he rolled his hips against yours again. “This virgin pussy is always begging for me to fill her.”
You didn’t have time to become embarrassed as high pitched whimpers slipped past your lips as he continued to grind against you. You’ve craved this man so bad, and now that he was yours you didn’t want to hold back anymore. He intertwined your hands together as he moved his big straining and clothed cock against your now soaked panties. 
“Love those little noises you make for me, such a good girl.” He moaned against the skin of your neck as he pressed open mouthed kisses and licks across your skin. 
You whined as he gave you a particular hard thrust. You could feel how massive he felt as he rubbed his cock against your clothed folds. You couldn’t deny that it made you nervous but all you could think about was that you needed and wanted him to take you so bad. More wetness would pool down your heated cunt as you fantasise about him filling your tiny pussy with more than just his cock. “Ah, n-need yo-you Lo…”
Suddenly everything became overwhelming, the temperature in the room rising quickly, the feel of his thick cock thrusting against you, the feel of his touch as it wandered all over your skin and the fact that you were going into a foreign but intimate territory with your best friend had you feeling hot all over.
His features softened as he took in how overwhelmed and flustered you looked. He slowed down his movements and one of his hands would move to hold your face as he slowly leaned down to peck your lips. “You’re okay baby girl, I’ve got you. I will take good care of you.” He whispered against your lips. His low voice sent a new wave of arousal down your body. “Tell me what you need, kitten.”
“You, I need you, Logan. I've always only needed you,” you whimpered against his lips as you reconnected them. His hands gently caressed your thighs, and your mind became hazy with intense lust and overwhelming love for him. Your brain instantly turned into mush as you continued to kiss each other passionately.
The kiss then increased with an intensity that had you gasping for breath. You rolled your hips into his, rubbing your throbbing clit against him for some friction against your core. You moaned into his mouth as you rubbed against him. The front of his sweatpants strained as he moved along with you.
As you kept losing yourself in the kiss, you felt his hands wander up your thighs up to the hem of your shirt. His fingers brushed delicately over the sides of your ribs, moving up and down your skin repeatedly, his fingertips mapping out every dip and curve as they wandered all over your skin.
“You're beautiful,” he whispered against your lips, admiring you, making you glance up at him shyly from beneath him. He pulled away just slightly only for him to hold the hem of your shirt, and you could tell what he was about to ask before he opened his mouth. You bit your lip and nodded vigorously, causing him to chuckle breathlessly. “You want me to take this off?” He questioned as he tugged at the fabric gently. 
You nodded bashfully, unable to use or trust your voice during that moment. 
He smiled softly, his hands gently brushing under your shirt before hooking his fingers into the fabric. Slowly, he lifted it, and you raised your arms to help him slip it off.
You felt heat rising on your skin the way his eyes roamed all over you, taking in every little detail. The way Logan was looking at you, eyes filled with nothing but love, adoration and lust, made you feel so alive.
He discarded the piece of clothing to the side and began mouthing along your collarbone with affection. You trembled underneath him as he showered you with his attention. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered repeatedly as his mouth travelled all over your exposed skin.
His large hands moved to the curve of your waist where it met your hips and clutched it, holding you tight as he littered damp kisses and nips to your shoulders and any skin along the way down to your breasts. You whimpered as he traced the tip of his nose over the swell of your breast.
He smirked as he looked up at you, breathing in through his nose as he inhaled your scent and you couldn’t help but shiver when he exhaled warmly through his mouth and onto your nipple. “Fuck, baby girl, you’re so hot.”
Then, he wrapped his lips around one nipple, teeth just skimming your skin as he sucked and licked with passion.
“L-Lo,” you mewl as you try to grind your hips against him, your cunt seeking friction as it throbs with need.
“Feeling good kitty?” He quipped back as he grins up at you. You felt your skin flush with heat as you just stared down at him. Lust was written all over your face and he had no trouble reading your expression. So he resumed licking, long, lavishing licks with the flat of his tongue over your pebbled nipple as the other hand which was occupying your other breast, travelled all the way down to your panties. 
As his fingers slipped underneath the band of your lacy underwear, down to where you needed him the most, his mouth fell open to unleash a loud groan onto your nipple as he felt your wetness, sliding his fingers between your soaked folds.
He explored your wet cunt patiently. Heat overwhelmed your senses as Logan continued to litter soft kisses all over your chest. Your hands found his head, running your fingers through his hair as his mouth continued to wander all over your naked skin.
Logan’s lips moved slowly down your body, kissing every little place he could find on your skin while his hands traced along.
Soon, he would retreat his hand from your heat, leaving you a whimpering mess. He then leant forward, his face meeting your sex, breathing in the smell of your pussy, running his nose against the damp patch on your underwear. You whimpered as he inhaled your scent. “Fuck kitten,” he growled as he couldn’t seem to stop smelling you. “This pussy smells so good, I can’t wait to taste ya.”
A devious smile played on Logan’s lips as he looked up at you through his eyelashes. “I am sure you taste just as good as you smell, if not better.” He groaned before taking your underwear between his teeth, while pulling it off your legs slowly. A shuddering breath left your lips, speechless as you watched him take off your lacy panties, becoming needier the longer you watched him. Logan kept looking at you as he slid down your body, pulling it off of you when it reached your ankles.
Once he took them off completely he gently pushed your legs wide for him, whimpering as the air hit your wet slit. He took a moment as his eyes took over you, your glistening centre clenching around nothing as he continued to stare at your wet hole. The man between your legs would moan at the sight. Not much later, Logan smirked as he kissed all the way up to your leg, taking his sweet time to give your body the attention you deserved. He pressed soft kisses from your ankles up to your knees, his hands moving along with his mouth, caressing the insides of your thighs as he gradually moved up your legs.
His lips lingered on your thighs, licking and sucking some kisses on your soft skin, Logan’s lips were so close to where you needed him the most yet he felt so far away.
“So pretty,” he murmured as he guided your legs over either of his shoulders.
You were about to beg as his lips detached from your thigh, only for moments later to feel him nuzzling against your pussy, smearing your juices across his lips and opening you up to his skilled tongue.
You gasp and squirm at the contact of his wet tongue.
He then pulls back for a second, “pussy tastes so good,” he moaned before his fingers moved to spread your outer lips for him. “But I think I'm gonna play with my girl for a bit.” Logan smiled as he slid a finger inside of you, watching the way your body squirmed at the sensation, moaning against the pillow next to you as you tried to muffle yourself.
You moaned as he moved his thick and long finger inside your tight walls. “So wet for me baby girl, you’re literally dripping on my finger,” he said before he pressed some kisses on your pubic bone, making you buck your hips in response. “Easy, kitty, we have all night.”
“L-Logan, please please I need more. Need your mouth and just. More. Pleaseeee need you so ba—” your whining got cut off the moment you felt his lips wrap around your clit, sucked it into his mouth, coaxing a loud but broken moan out of you. “F-Fuck!”
You felt like screaming, you didn’t know what to do with your hands, feeling so lost and overwhelmed with the pleasure Logan was giving you already. He dove between your legs, licking a stripe up through your folds and teasingly dipping his tongue into your entrance along with his finger before he travelled up to your clit, spreading your lips with his wet appendage before sucking your button into his mouth.
The whine that came out of you only drove Logan to seek out more of those heavenly sounds. As his one single digit pumped in and out of you, you couldn’t help but appreciate that his fingers felt so much more pleasurable and thicker than your own. As bliss overwhelmed your senses, you felt your whole body start to tremble. 
Your core began clenching around his finger, begging for more. He pumped his finger in and out of you at a leisurely pace. Instinctively you tried moving your hips, slowly, grinding against his hand and mouth as he moaned. He gave you an intense look as he continued to fuck you with his finger. His eyes couldn’t seem to stay in one place as he admired how beautiful you were underneath him.
You were panting heavily, barely able to think straight, your mind turning hazy as he slowly slipped a second finger inside your tight channel. 
Logan moved them slowly at first as your pussy tried to adjust to the addition. The stretch was overwhelming but oh so satisfying. Little whimpers left your lips as he fucked you with his fingers. He moved his face back to meet yours, engulfing you in a passionate kiss, swallowing all your little mewls.
You gasped, his tongue slipped inside your mouth, kissing you with so much passion, giving you everything he had to offer. “That feels good doesn't it, princess?” Logan groaned as his thumb made contact with your clit. You bucked your hips and nodded quietly. “Use your words pretty girl,” he taunted while he curled his fingers inside you as he played with the sensitive spot inside you.
“Yes, please please Lo, feels… so good.” You moaned loudly.
Soon his lips travelled all the way down your body as whines and whimpers left your trembling lips, silently begging for more — all while he was still finger fucking you.
Logan inhaled your scent as soon as he leaned forward, but didn’t let you wait in anticipation much longer. He wet his lips before his head dipped between your legs, warm tongue licking a slow stripe across your outer lips, all the way up to your button.
“Ah, fuck!” You cried out, your hips bucking off the mattress. 
Squeaky, senseless noises bubbled up from your throat wantonly. Your hips stuttered against him and he just sighed like there was nothing in the world he'd rather do than this, eating you out on your bed.
You were a mess of his name, chanting and stuttering over and over again like a prayer. Your eyes squeezing shut to the point of tears, his mouth licked up your clit, as he continued to finger you while one of his other hands was holding your hip, pinning you to the soft sheets as you bucked into him, trying to urge him to do more.
The way he build up your arousal by pumping his fingers in and out of you, curling up ever so slightly to find the spongy spot inside of you. The familiar coil in your belly continued to build up as Logan suckled on your sensitive bud. Your abdomen tightened as he began quickening his pace again, his fingers hitting into that sweet spot with precision, had your toes curling as you clenched your thighs around his head.
Logan was lapping at you with determination, moving his fingers continuously as he slowly got you to the edge.
“Oh, my—”you whimpered, trembling digits sinking half into his brown hair and the other against your teeth, as you tried to silence yourself. “Fuck, aahh Logan, f-fuck…”
He moaned against you as his lips sealed around your clit and you bucked your hips at the action. Warmth spread throughout your whole body as he began talking you through it. “Fuckin’- you taste so good. Feels so good. You’re just… everything.”
You whimpered as he continued. “Come on,” he grunted as he pumped his fingers faster in and out of you. “Come on baby, cum for me.” 
“Ah, d-daddy,” You gasped loudly as your whole body trembled even more, the hot familiar feeling continued to spread all over your body, your body tingling, your hips moving at their own accord against Logan’s hand and face. Totally unaware of the word that slipped past your lips as your body tensed as he called you ‘a good girl’ and shortly after you came against his mouth and around his fingers. 
“That’s my girl.”
Your whole mind felt like exploding and all you could see were stars. You felt so overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure and emotions you were experiencing. Your body still trembled as you felt yourself come down from your high.
As you slowly came back to your senses you felt him gently pull his fingers out of your pulsing hole. But you still felt Logan’s mouth on you, licking and sucking at your pussy and it didn’t feel like he was gonna stop any time soon. You whined as he moaned against you while he licked against your tight entrance, licking up your release, his tongue prodding your slick hole.
“‘S too much.” You whimpered at the overstimulation.
Logan ignored your pleas, moaning against your heat as he continued to eat you out. The man you adored so much between your legs kept sliding his tongue up and down your sensitive slit. Your little mewls and other noises of ecstasy spurred him on, to move his lips back up to your clit, sucking the nub softly between his lips. 
“You love having daddy eat your sweet pussy don’t you?” He smirked, looking up at your flustered and embarrassed face as he continued licking your soaked cunt. “No need to be embarrassed, baby. I like it.”
The walls of your pussy clenched furiously, the empty feeling inside you intensifying with every lick, and as your wetness trickled out of you, your core practically begged him to fill it up.
“Oh sweet girl.” Logan tutted as you began grinding your hips against his face as moans kept spilling from your lips. “You’re so sensitive, kitten.” He chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your clit. 
Eventually he leaned down, finally slipping his tongue into your entrance, he curled the muscle upward to brush your walls, the sight of your fingers bunching the fabric of the sheets in a tight grip encouraged him to do it again and again.
Writhing below him, you felt him lick up and press against a sensitive spot inside that had you seeing stars, while your hips bucked against his face uncontrollably. Your fingers moved once again, gripping onto his dark hair rather harshly as you pushed your hips against his face shoving his tongue deeper inside your hole.
“Please,” you begged. “‘M close.”
“Please what?” He taunted as he continued to lick your heat.
“P-please,” you stuttered and paused before finishing timidly. “Daddy.”
“Good girl,” he said before plunging his tongue back inside you as his thumb came up to press against your little bundle of nerves. Moments later, the tension snapped inside your lower tummy, cumming with a loud whine, your hips stuttered as your vision blurred. You cried out his name, your voice unable to remain steady. 
Your hips stuttered until the final waves of aftershock pass. As you slowly came back down to reality again while you tried to catch your breath, you heard him praising you softly while he continued to lap at your wetness gently. You whined and nudged him away with your leg, only to react with a chuckle.
“Taste so good, baby. Could eat your sweet pussy all day.” He grinned as he licked the wetness off his mouth. Logan smirked, holding eye contact with you as he brought his glistening fingers to his mouth.
You giggled as he licked his fingers clean, feeling slightly embarrassed by the action. Trying to hide your flushed face, you lazily raised your hands to cover it, but Logan wasn’t having any of it. With a gentle smile, he placed tender kisses all over your hands, pulling them down slowly. Then, he leaned in closer, pressing sweet kisses to your nose, your forehead, and both your cheeks before finally capturing your lips. Each kiss was playful, filled with warmth, as laughter bubbled softly between you, his grin widening against your mouth.
He pulled away with a satisfied sigh, a warm smile spreading across his face as he reached to touch the side of your neck, tracing his fingertips up and down.
You exhaled as you melted at the feel of his touch and kissed his thumb as it came to trace across your lips. Your shaky legs wrapped around his hips, and with a playful gleam in your eyes, you gave his thumb a tender lick, holding his gaze as you rubbed your still sensitive heat against his clothed cock.
“F-fuck, you can’t just do that kitten.” He groaned as his hands came to hold your hips, stilling your movements.
You whined, pouting as you looked up at him. “Why not?”
“It’s hard to control myself around you.” He grunted as he started grinding his cock against you. Your gaze wandered downward, following the line of the vein near his V-line as it disappeared beneath his grey sweatpants. You couldn’t help but whine underneath him as he continued to grind his covered cock against your growing wetness. You gasped after giving you a particular hard thrust, that’s when you realised and felt he wasn’t wearing any underwear underneath them. He felt massive. “I’ve been trying to control myself for years. I think I’d have to control myself a bit longer.”
“W-why?” you hiccuped as he kept rutting his hips into yours.
“Don’t wanna hurt ya.” He mumbled, as his cock strained against his sweatpants.
“But I know you won’t.” You said, your voice steady, filled with all the confidence you could summon. You watched as his jaw clenched, his grip tightening slightly as he held himself back, resisting the urge to just take you like he always wanted.
“How are you so certain?” His breath hitched when you tightened your legs around him.
“I-I, because I trust you.” You continued to stutter as you both rolled your hips against each other. His eyes darkened with desire, but you could tell he was trying to restrain himself, fighting against what he truly wanted, even though the tension between you was nearly unbearable. Still, you held his gaze, unwavering. “Because you love me.”
Logan groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought to keep control, every muscle in his body tense with the effort. You could see the conflict etched across his face, the battle between what he wanted and what he was trying to hold back. His grip on you tightened slightly, a sign of the restraint still lingering in him, though it was slowly slipping away. His breathing was ragged, and for a moment, you thought he might give in. But then, he swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay still, clinging to the last shred of restraint that hadn’t left him yet. “You don’t know how hard this is,” he muttered through gritted teeth, his voice thick with desire. “How difficult it’s been, every day since I met you, trying to hold back while being around you.”
“I think I do, Logan,” you whispered, gazing up at him. “Maybe not in the exact way you feel it, but I’ve struggled too, convincing myself daily that I could never have you. And now, realising I could’ve had you from the start—it’s almost unbearable.” You bit your lip, noticing how his expression softened. “That’s why I don’t want us to hold back anymore. I don’t think I can endure it any longer. Please, I need you, Logan. I love you, and I’ll always want you—”
Your words were cut off as Logan surged towards you, cupping your face as he kissed you passionately. His lips moved fervently against yours, as if he was trying to make up for every moment of restraint. Making up for any lost time. The intensity of his kiss made your head spin, your heartbeat quickening as you melted into his embrace. His hands then started roaming around your body, his hold on you tightening occasionally, pulling you closer, while his breath grew heavy as you felt every emotion as he kissed you. You clung to him, pouring out every feeling and emotion out with every heated kiss.
“I love you,” Logan murmured between tender kisses, breathlessly whispering your name.
Your own hands began wandering all over his body and eventually down his solid chest until your fingers met his abdomen, slipping momentarily underneath the waistband of his sweatpants. With a mix of urgency and desire, you tugged at them while whimpering underneath him as you continued to kiss him deeply.
“Just relax, baby. I’ve got you,” he whispered softly after pulling away from the kiss. He eventually took it upon himself to slowly peel back, shuffling a bit to rid himself of the last piece of fabric on his body. He tossed it aside, fully exposing himself to your hungry eyes.
Your breath hitched, your eyes wide. Fuck, he was massive. Long and thick in all the right ways. Just as you thought, the vein between his V Lines moved down to his cock. A spark of heat shot down to your pulsing core as you imagined how he would fit or fill you up. But it was also accompanied by a twinge of nerves.
Logan chuckled as he moved closer to you, his lips chasing your own as he enveloped you in another sweet but deep kiss. 
The two of you kissed languidly for a moment, treasuring the heat of each other's bodies as your lips slot together with ease, but soon enough the kisses become deeper, more frantic and hands start to grip tighter and legs tangling together. 
It's like you're both starved, this insatiable hunger for each other. 
You couldn’t help but roll your hips against his to feel his thick cock. You whined as it turned slick as you kept grinding yourself against him, and he had no trouble gliding his hips against you and rutting it into your clit.
You gasped openly into his mouth, desire growing quickly. You were so wet. Logan swallowed your whines with his lips against yours, hips rolling against you. He kissed you full with fervour, his grip on you intensifying heatedly.
He held his length in his hand as he kept rubbing the head of his cock from your entrance, up to your clit, circling until you were squirming underneath him, and back down. The thought of his thickness finally entering your pussy made you wetter by the second, turning you more on. Logan swallowed your little mewls with his mouth, his hips rolling with yours.
You were trembling against him, full of anticipation. His body covered your whole body with his. You writhed against him, wishing he was just in you already and filling you up and consuming you with pleasure once again.
“P-please, Logan.” You stuttered, your body trembling underneath him as you waited for his next move. 
Logan hummed as he concentrated while circling your clenching hole teasingly. You arched your back slightly as you whined, silently begging to finally fill your pussy the way you’ve always wanted him to do.
“Relax, baby girl.” He whispered after he licked and kissed underneath your ear.
“Please d-daddy, I-I need you.” You whimpered in anticipation. Logan would grunt loudly before nudging the tip of his cock against your soaked hole. Your legs trembled underneath him, a mix of nerves and excitement. “Want you to fill this little pussy. Need you t-to fill it with more than your cock. N-need your cum.” You whispered seductively against his ear as his last bit of restraint snaps. 
At your words, Logan gradually put more pressure on your entrance making you whimper underneath him, once he finally slid his tip inside you, a gasp elicited from the both of you.
You’re aware this was just barely the tip of him, but you couldn’t help but feel the stretch burn already. Logan slid in so slowly it was agonising. You cried out as he gradually pushed more of his pulsing cock inside your own clenching hole. He was so big.
You tangled your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling slightly as you whined underneath him. He panted along with you, his warm breath fanning over your face while he kept his forehead pressed against yours. The stretch stung, but his pace kept it bearable. He guided himself a centimetre further, then another, another, until you were digging your nails into his scalp, a gasp spilling from your lips.
His hips stilled instantly once he heard the pained noises falling from your lips. Tears began to prickle at your waterline, a combination of discomfort and the overwhelming feelings that were coursing through you.
“Doing so good for me baby,” he praised as he peppered your face with gentle kisses. “You’re doing so good for me.”
“Please,” you whimpered as your eyes fluttered close.
Logan continued to move almost painfully slow, letting you adjust to every centimetre of him. After a couple of seconds you were able to relax more into it. You whimpered, clutching his shoulders at the stretch, the heat in your abdomen growing as your walls fluttered around him, pleasure beginning to bloom in your stomach.
“So full…” you whined.
“Such a good girl,” he grunted softly. You think there wasn’t a possibility to get more wet but as he utters those words you felt your heat get even more wet. He leaned down as he kissed your lips gently, as he filled you up bit by bit. He hoped the sweetness of his embrace would soften the sting.
You’re trembling as you canted your hips up, begging for him to fill you to the brim, while you gripped the bedsheets between your fingers. “Please Lo, need more. I can take it, daddy.” You whimpered as you involuntarily and repeatedly tightened around his thick cock.
He groaned at your desperate whines, losing his composure momentarily as he thrust the rest of his length all the way inside your tiny hole. The head of his dick kissing your cervix once he bottomed out. You cried out as you were trembling underneath him, trying to adjust to his size while your pussy kept pulsing around his cock.
“Fuck, so fuckin’ tight.” He hissed as he let you adjust to his cock. 
His lips came to press soft and tender kisses all over your face as he let you relax. Tears brimmed at the corners of your eyes as you continued to adjust around him. You felt so full, as if he was made for you, and only you. The feeling of him filling you up so completely had you seeing stars and digging fingernails into his shoulders. You felt one of his hands finding your hand, lacing them with yours as the other one reached up to your face.
His breathing was heavy as you squeezed his cock repeatedly. Small whimpers left your lips as you squirm underneath him.
You needed more. 
You hadn’t even realised your eyes had drifted shut until you slowly opened them, gazing up at Logan with a soft, pleading look. “Please, Logan.”
“What do you need, sweetheart?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated deep in his chest.
“Need more.” You whispered.
“Aww, does my sweet girl need me to move?” he teased, tilting his head with a playful smirk.
“Need you, please.” You begged as your pussy clenched around his thick cock rather hard which made him groan above you. “Please, I need you to fuck me so bad.”
His breath hitched as he exhaled shakily, before nodding quietly. Slowly, he started moving inside you, gentle but deep. One hand reached down to play with your clit, while the other one went to intertwine your fingers together, holding your hand tightly. 
The sting hurt for a while, but it easily morphed into a more pleasurable feeling as he moved against you. You’re so overstimulated from all your previous orgasms that the sensation he was giving you was mixed between pain and pleasure.
He grunted as he dropped his head to your ear to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin just below it. Soon enough the pain would completely disappear and all you could feel was pure bliss.
Slowly, you were getting used to his girth, anticipating it every time he pulled out of you before moving forward. Your legs are splayed open on either side of his hips as he ground his cock into you. The angle was so good, gradually he would pick up his pace, leaving you a whimpering mess underneath him. As he fucked into you in languid strokes, the sound of slick skin and your noises of pleasure could be heard in your bedroom.
“How do you feel?” he whispered against your ear.
“Feels so good.” You moaned as you tightened around his cock, this time voluntarily.
You whimpered as he picked up the pace, angling himself in a certain way inside you. He finally leaned down to wrap his arms around you, the action elicited a gasp out of you as you grab at the sheets around you, as he fucked you harder and faster.
Every time he’d thrust inside you, his pelvic bone would drag along your throbbing clit, making you cry out his name in pure ecstasy. 
“You’re taking me so well, sweet girl. Doing so so, good for me.” He whispered against your skin as he moved to nuzzle his face against your neck.
Soft grunts fell from Logan’s lips whenever he hit a specific deep spot inside you. You whimpered as his lips moved back up to your lips, enveloping them in a heated kiss. You melted completely against him, holding you close to him as he fucked you. He snaked one of his hands down between your conjoined bodies finding your clit as he rubbed two fingers over the sensitive nub.
At a certain point you felt him slide into a pressure point in your core and coupled with the way his fingers circled your clit, it had you clenching like a vise around his dick. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head from the pleasure he was providing you. The whimpers that fell from your lips became higher pitched as he picked up his pace.
“Feeling good, kitten?” He groaned, as his lips curled into a mischievous smile as he admired the way your face twisted in pure bliss. Too overwhelmed by the new experience. Filth and praise continued to come out of his mouth as he fucked you. “This pussy was made for daddy.”
His mouth covered your own instead as he swallowed all your little noises of pleasure, you could feel the tightness return in your belly, the tight coil that pulls tighter with every movement and every touch.
Your whimpers, gasps of pleasure and pants increased as ecstasy and warmth overwhelmed your senses.
“Taking daddy’s cock so well, baby.”
His hands couldn’t get enough of you, sliding around your hips and lower back, wanting to feel all of you, touch you everywhere. You whimpered at the feeling of his speed, feeling another orgasm coming so close, eyes tightly shut and legs locked bruisingly around Logan’s hips. He could feel it too, in the way you clenched and squeezed around his length, and he began to drive even harder into your pussy as he tilted his hips gently, searching for the one place that he hoped would blow your mind.
“Ah, daddy—” you hiccuped as he fucked you so good you felt like a blabbering mess. “Need you to come inside my pussy...”
“Is that what you want?” He growled as you pulsed around him. “Can’t believe it… it’s your first time and you’re already begging for me to cum inside. So filthy. You’re close aren’t ya?”
You nodded furiously as your arms trembled as they wrapped around him, your nails digging in his back as he moaned on top of you. The feeling of the coil tightening in your belly, was tingling down to your legs, ready to snap at any moment.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, cursing under his breath when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “Bet you’d look even prettier with my cum inside your pussy. All full and messy.”
“Please…” you moaned as you thought about him filling you up. “Please Lo, baby, daddy… please fill this pussy up.”
He grunted as he buried his face into your neck as he fucked into you, making the whole bed rattle at his force.
“You want to cum pretty girl?”
You nodded frantically at his words while your eyes fluttered close as you bit your lip harshly. You were bucking up beneath him, nails digging into his skin even more as his hand moved back to your clit as another came to intertwine your hands together, pinning them to the bed. He rubbed your clit with enough pressure to ensure you’ll cum around him.
“Cum for daddy.” Logan demands softly.
And when he finally nudged against that spot inside you coupled with his deep voice– you were exploding, shattering, and detonating all at once, as you cried out his name. Blood was rushing so wildly in your ears that you couldn’t possibly hear the way you wail and sob as he crashed his lips onto yours, swallowing all your noises. Your head lolled back, your back arching violently as you twist and contort in pleasure underneath him.
“That’s it, good girl.” Logan moaned in your ear as your walls spasmed and pulsed around his cock, begging him to cum inside, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised.
“Fuck,” he groaned, pushing himself up as he thrust deeper into you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly. “You want me to fill this pussy up? Make it all messy?”
You were still in a daze but you were able to understand him so you nod vigorously at his words, whining even more at the sensitivity. Your pussy squeezed around his cock in anticipation. “Please…”
“Fuck, take it baby.” It washed over him instantly, hips stuttering into you as he grew desperate, eyes squeezing shut when he felt his cock throb inside of you before hot spurts of his seed splashed along your walls, painting them in ribbons of white. The warmth of his seed filled you up and spread inside your pussy. The feeling made you whimper, limbs limp on the bed as he shallowly thrust into you, making sure you took every last drop. 
His warm cum filled you up deeply, the mild heat of it settling deep inside you and causing you to squirm under him. Logan panted as he let his body slump against yours. He rested on top of you, trying to steady his breath. His cock was still nuzzled deep within you, still half hard as it kept his cum from leaking out.
It was a blurry haze when you came back to your senses, your whole body was aching whilst simultaneously feeling the most relaxed you've ever been, equally as exhausted as it was energised, and you didn’t bother trying to question why. Just pure contentment.
Once both of you caught your breaths, Logan leaned his forehead against yours before kissing you tenderly.
“That was…” He breathed, smiling tiredly at the complete dopey mess he's made of you; hair all over the place and eyes lidded heavily, heated skin glowing and your lips looking swollen from all the kisses you’ve both shared.
“Oh yeah, that was mind blowing.” Your voice came out hoarse, still recovering from the height and volume it had gone, and you cleared your throat gently before you smiled up at him.
“I love you.” He whispered before he captured your lips in a deep and lazy kiss. You could feel his soft mouth smiling against yours as you whimpered against him. You felt yourself melting against his embrace as he wrapped his arms around you.
“I love you too.” You whispered back against his mouth. 
You shifted slightly when you felt that he was still hard inside you. Biting your lip, you squeezed purposely around him at the realisation. Logan groaned at the feeling, his large palms sliding up your sides in a soothing manner. 
“Don’t do that.” Logan grumbled but you saw a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Why not?” You giggled as your hands trailed through his hair.
“Makes me wanna fuck you again.” Your boyfriend mumbled.
“Hm, that’s kind of the point.” You continued to giggle.
Logan chuckled as he pulled his head back, looking at you with a mirthful smile.
Before you knew it, he pulled out only to man handle your body in the position he wanted you to be. Manoeuvres your body until you’re on your tummy. His hands came to hold your hips, pulling them up, your ass in the air for him.
He kneads the flesh of your cheeks before spreading them apart for him. Your body slumps slightly forward with exhaustion but Logan is quick to grip your hips, holding you in the same position. “Oh kitten, I’m not done with you yet.” He tutted. 
Your cheeks flushed with heat as you prepared yourself for a long night filled with passion.
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thank you for reading 🩷🩷🩷
edit: I realised that I made a lot of errors such as jumping tenses 😭 I’m sorry! I’ll eventually come around to fix it 🩷
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esperderek · 4 months
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I have to have a chuckle at the Screenrant article posted recently about the Galactic Starcruiser, which totally wasn't about Jenny Nicholson's video honest.
In part, because early in Nicholson's video, she talks about how unnatural it is to have your influencers speak in adcopy and copyright rather than the more colloquial nicknames, and how it makes the people speaking about the product seem very insincere and, well, paid off. Because normal humans don't speak that way, but advertising does.
What's the first two lines in this article?
"As a life-long fan of Star Wars, there was nothing quite as exciting as finding out that I would be working on the immersive Star Wars: Galactic Starcruiser experience. Located at the Walt Disney World Resort, the Galactic Starcruiser opened on March 1, 2022, and welcomed passengers to board a two-day, two-night cruise through the stars, during which they could live out their own Star Wars adventure."
No one talks like this naturally. No one writes like this naturally.
This is supposed to be your passioned defense of the place you worked at, the people you worked with, and the memories you made along the way. C'mon! Why don't you open with a story, perhaps an anecdote about the best moment you had working there, or the devastation of the day you lost your dream job. We need to feel your humanity! But there's nothing of that here, to the point where you can just hear the TM behind Galactic Starcruiser.
The first half of this article continues in this vein, reading like a press release Disney marketing put out, just with past tense rather than present or future tense:
"Essentially, the Starcruiser experience was a 48-hour movie that passengers were actually a part of. It was all facilitated through the "datapad," which was accessed through the Play Disney Parks app."
"To facilitate the overarching immersive experience and storytelling, the Starcruiser built a jam-packed itinerary for each and every guest that would consist of a variety of important activities: the captain's toast at muster, a bridge training exercise, lightsaber training, and more. These types of events were essential to understanding what was happening, as they would give passengers the chance to interact with characters and build their story. This is why the Starcruiser could never be just a hotel; every part of it was designed for enthusiastic interaction."
Like, c'mon. I used to work in television. I've seen and used adcopy in my former job, and this is some serious adcopy. It honestly wouldn't shock me if the author dredged up some old adcopy they had lying around about the topic and just transferred it over, changing the tense. You're not here to sell us this product, because there is no product to sell. It's gone, it's been gone for a year, you don't have to sell us on IT. Speak about your experiences.
The next part is yet another topic that Jenny Nicholson pointed out, the bad faith excuses that influencers and advertisers made for the extreme price point:
"What many people don't know, however, is that the price included much more than just a room. The passengers' food, park tickets, recreation activities on board, non-alcoholic drinks, and more were all included - with merchandise being one of the few additional costs on board."
Which is absolute bad faith reasoning, especially when there are plenty of other vacation options that are ALSO all-inclusive, but are MUCH cheaper and offer MORE amenities than the Galactic Starcruiser did! Including Disney Cruises, owned by the same company! Seriously, you can go on a halfway decent sounding cruise or all-inclusive resort somewhere warm for, like, a week or two and spend far less than GSC cost.
Then the last part is essentially: "All the workers liked working there and the bad reviews afterwards make the workers who worked on it feel sad. :("
Which, like, companies have been hiding behind that reasoning for ages. Curiously, the author never offers....any reasons or stories. WHY did working on it impact you so much? What set it apart, what were the people like, what did you like about working there, why are you so passionate about it even a year later? There's nothing, just a generic sort of "We worked hard." and "We're sad it's gone." Why? How? What happened? The video you're obviously writing this in response to is filled with personal anecdotes and stories, it's the backbone of the video! Again, you need to give us something to show your humanity!
Especially when you consider that Nicholson repeatedly points out that the only highlight about her experience, the only thing that kept the damn thing going was the workers.
She had nothing but praise for them, and nothing but contempt for the higher ups who wasted and abused that enthusiasm, to the point where one of her last points was "Hey, Disney is basically exploiting labor."
Much like Jenny, I'm also not condemning anyone who had a good time working there. Good! If you were having a good time at work, that's great. If you have good memories about the people, awesome. But I'll note two things:
a) That doesn't meant you weren't being exploited, and
b) That doesn't mean you have to be a useful idiot for the corporation you worked for afterwards.
I'm not conspiracy brained enough to go "Oh, Disney TOTALLY forced this article into being.", because a cursory examination of the author's prior works and such suggests a lifelong passion for Star Wars, she did work at the hotel, and she's a Star Wars Editor (whatever THAT means in this day and age) for Screen Rant. Apparently one of the heads of Screen Rant says that Disney had no hand in it either.
Though, I can see why people would think that way. It READS like a press release, not something a normal human being would write about an experience they feel passionate about.
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cherrychilli · 8 months
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18+
Eddie Munson x flexible! reader, AFAB reader, allusions to PIV sex
Eddie finds out you're double jointed.
A/N: This one's super self indulgent because I'm very bendy and I felt like writing about it. Also they smoke weed but everything's consensual✌️
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"C'mon, there's gotta be something about you I don't know already", he prompts after another smoky exhale, blunt pinched between his thumb and forefinger. It wisps out into the evening air beyond the back doors of his van, opened out to overlook a moon dappled lover's lake.
This is what the conversation had dwindled down to after having spent the whole day together, most other talking points already stretched thin by now.
Usually you would have considered the question more carefully but now that your intuition's been dulled by his stash, you search through the foggy corridors of your mind for an answer like you're feeling around for a light switch in the dark.
Eddie has been your closest friend for the better part of five years now and you weren't exactly a closed book by any means which made coming up with something all the more difficult.
Most of what comes to mind feels too mundane to mention so you pass them over in favor of searching for something that might pique his interest.
"Hmm, I'm kind of double jointed I guess", you slowly recalled, too mellowed out to realize the kind of implications something like that might carry to a man like Eddie.
But where there should have been raised eyebrows and a lascivious curve on his lips you find his eyes narrowing into a puzzled little squint instead as he looks at you from where he's leaned against the back of the driver's seat.
"But we've only had one", he turns the joint in his hand over to examine it closer as if a second one might be hidden somewhere underneath.
Maybe you'd given him too much credit.
You roll your eyes at him playfully, leaning closer on your hands and knees to pluck the joint out of his hand and take another puff. The weed might have made him a little slow and sluggish to fully comprehend your what you'd just shared with him but not enough to prevent him from sneaking a peek at your cleavage from this angle.
"No Eddie, it just means I'm flexible. Like, a little more than most people", you return to your side of the van, leaning back against the side door with your knees pulled up to your chest.
"So, like the splits?"
"More than that"
"More?", his eyes go wide and you can see a hint of redness bordering his sclera, certain the same tinge is present in own eyes too.
"Yeah, like check this out", you hand him back the last of the joint for him to finish off and put out. Holding up your left hand, you fold your thumb into your palm and gather the rest of your fingers with your right hand, slowly bending them back beyond what he thought to be your limit.
The unnatural arc might have unsettled anyone else but not Eddie and you begin to giggle when his face lights up instead of twisting into a wince.
"Shit, does that hurt?"
"Nope", you start to beam a little, letting him take your hand in his when he reaches for it eagerly.
Carefully, he manipulates them, making them bend in all kinds of ways; touching your thumb to your forearm, pushing the first joint of each finger back as far as possible.
"Oh that's fucked", he smiles big and wide as if he could gladly spend an entire day just messing around with your fingers.
"What else can you do?"
His impress fills you with a new kind of high, one much more heady than the weed and you fail to resist it now that you've gotten a taste.
"Mm, I can get my legs behind my head too", you shrug, this time much more aware of what you're divulging.
"Seriously? both of them?", he manages to ask calmly enough though you can almost feel him buzzing under his skin like a cicada about to take flight.
"Yeah, don't even really have to stretch to do it"
His jaw tenses, his normally expressive face unreadable before he quietly asks, "can I see?"
Oh this is dangerous. You feel like you're entering uncharted territory in your friendship but you like the look stirring in his eyes too much to deny him.
"Maybe just one", you offer, thankful that you're wearing your cotton shorts today instead of something denim.
Sitting criss cross on the old blanket he uses to carpet the back of his van for smoke sessions, you slip off your flip flops and place both hands on your right foot. With your left hand cradling the ball of your foot and your right hand gripping your heel, you begin to lift your leg up past your chest.
The underside of your thigh which he only gets to secretly ogle on days when you're dressed like this is bared to him as you get your calf over your shoulder, no trace of pain or discomfort on your face. Dropping your right hand, you duck your head slightly to maneuver your foot over it with your left hand then it's done. Your foot slips into place behind your head, heel nudging the nape of your neck. You're able to straighten up to look him in the eye, shooting him a wink while you wiggle your toes.
"There. Not so hard", you can't help but show off, drunk on the stunned look etched on Eddie's face.
And then his eyes trailed lower.
He does it quickly -- a mental snapshot that he'll file away for later. He memorizes the way your shorts have ridden up, so tight around your core he can make out the print of your underwear and the shape of your cunt beneath the stretched out fabric, wishing he could rip the stitches of the offending material apart and fit his tongue there instead.
Pleased with your display, you untangle yourself smoothly, limbs returning to their rightful alignments as Eddie takes a few seconds to blink himself out of his thoughts. His entirely non platonic, downright debaucherous thoughts.
"Woah that was...wow", he settles, pressing his lips together before his motormouth revs up and he lets out something he'll regret. 'You're like a sexy stretch Armstrong', nearly makes its way through but he's able to bite on to it and swallow it back down just in time.
"You're the first guy I've ever shown that to", you laugh but it comes out a little weak now that you're processing what you've just done.
"Seriously? what about Mark?", he asks, face scrunching up slightly like the name left a bad taste in Eddie's mouth.
The mention of your last ex sobers you up even more. "No, I never told him", you tell him simply, smothering down a laugh. The truth was Mark's idea of kinky was leaving the lights on so you never brought up your little contortionist act, afraid it would be too much for him to handle.
"Don't think he would have been into it", you tell Eddie instead and he looks back at you, deadpanned.
"What?"
"Sorry I just find that really hard to believe", he clears his throat, barely disguising his own interest.
The silence that follows has a certain weight to it. It's a familiar kind of weight that you've felt before on days when you're alone with Eddie and the line between friends and something more begins to blur. The weight of possibility.
"Always wanted to try it", you add, hoping like hell that you haven't misread that hungry look in his eyes.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, I don't know just seems like it could be...fun?", you shrug, a not entirely successful attempt at appearing nonchalant because you've begun to sweat. The van feels far too small all of a sudden which doesn't make sense because you're nowhere near as close as you would like to be with the boy who's seems to be stuck on what to say next.
Call it a leap of faith or call it a huge fucking mistake but you decide to take the plunge and ask him the question that's been beating on the inside of your cranium like a hammer on a nail.
"Eddie, would it be weird if I ask you to-"
"Yes", he answers quickly. Resolutely.
The swiftness of it hurts like a guillotine coming down on your heart -- shot down before you'd even finished the question so you swallow down your regret like a throatful of gravel.
"R-right. Yeah I know it was stupid of me to even try to-"
He doesn't know where he went wrong until he sees your bottom lip tremble and the confidence you'd worn up until now completely strip away, realizing you've mistaken him eagerly jumping the gun for flat out rejection.
Eddie's hands come down on your shoulders as he bolts up to kneel in front of you, shaking you to shock the tears away before they have a chance rise and turn your eyes glassy.
"No! I mean yes, it's not not weird but I don't care because YES, I want to um, do that with you… is what I meant"
His grip eases up but his eyes stay wide to read your expression, chest no longer feeling like an anvil had been dropped on it when a smile breaks out on your face, the kind that feels like it could reach beyond his ribcage and touch his heart.
"Really?", you ask, somehow understanding him perfectly. If there was anyone who could make sense of Eddie's nonsense it was you.
"I mean, if you want to...", he leans closer when he catches you looking at his lips.
"I do want to", you lean in too, hands smoothing up his chest, bringing your lips closer to his.
For all the effort he put into keeping his unfiltered thoughts from spilling out it's just his luck that he stumbles over the very last hurdle before the finishing line.
"Oh my god I'm going to fold you like a pretzel"
It's so abrupt and silly and just so Eddie that you can't help but laugh, dropping your head. His lips skim your forehead and he laughs too, both of you holding each other, locked in a giggle fit until it tapers and subsides.
When you do look back up the heat that had been there before his gaffe returns tenfold. "Maybe leave the dirty talk to me", you place a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in for a proper kiss.
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theatre-mqn · 7 days
Text
Okay, hear me out: CharmingHearts Time Loop AU.
Because Rise of Red has me in a fucking chokehold, and I am letting myself be strangled.
(This is a fic I'm in the process of writing - unfortunately it might take a bit since I don't have anyone to bounce ideas off of. the life of the only rise of red fan in the friendgroup :D)
The day of the coup begins as per normal.
It's September 1st. Red wakes up in her room.
She gets dressed and heads down to the courtyard, watching one of the newer card soldiers - a 6 of Spades - nearly trip over the carpet on the way there.
She attends court. The Jack of Diamonds nearly gets executed at her command - until Maddox shows up right on time and presents the Queen of Hearts with King Ben's Letter of Invitation. So they go to Auradon Prep, The Queen of Hearts gets her deck of cards past the guards at the entrance, Red watches Bridget and Ella get their "reunion" -- and meets Chloe for the first time in the process -- and then witnesses her mother stage a violent coup against Auradon, and gets coerced into sentencing Cinderella to death.
Now an innocent woman is going to die, everyone thinks that she's just like her mom, and that girl - Chloe Charming, her name was? - has her sword drawn, and is seemingly about to go on a suicide charge to try and attack the Queen of Hearts.
Red panics and activates the time machine she stole from Maddox.
Except this time, in this universe, the pocket watch doesn't quite have the effect that Maddox intended. In this universe, something goes wrong.
It's September 1st. Red wakes up in her room.
She watches the 6 of Spades trip over the carpet. She watches the Jack of Diamonds get dragged off to the dungeon - again.
She watches the invitation to Auradon arrive.
She watches her mother sneak the cards through the checkpoint, watches Bridget and Ella's tense conversation.
She meets Chloe, again.
This time, Red knows what's going to happen - what she needs to do. So during the ceremony, she steals her mother's deck of cards, attempting to prevent the coup from occurring. Except the Card Soldiers don't seem to care what hand the deck is in - they come when their Queen calls, ever loyal - ever fearful.
So the coup happens again, despite her efforts.
This time, she refuses to sentence Cinderella to death. So her mother, furious, has the guards lock her in what was initially intended to be her and Chloe's dorm room until she "decides what to do with her".
No matter. She messed up this time, but she knows better now. All she needs to do is --
.
The pocket watch doesn't work.
She clicks it - once, twice, three times. Nothing. No flash of light, no spiral back in time, nothing.
She's failed.
Red watches Cinderella's execution from her dorm - what would have been her dorm, if she hadn't failed, hadn't wasted the opportunity given to her, if she had just been a little bit stronger. She watches Chloe lunge at the Queen of Hearts - now the Queen of Auradon - with her sword drawn, only to be dragged off to God-Knows-Where.
She can't bring herself to think.
She just lies down on what would have been her bed, and before she knows it, she's asleep.
----
Red wakes up in her room.
It's September 1st.
It's still September 1st.
What the fuck?
----
It takes about two more resets before Red finally comes to terms with her situation - an embarrassingly long time, though if you think about it, it technically hasn't been very long at all.
On the 3rd loop, she tries to steal the cards from her mother before they set off for Auradon. That doesn't work - they just end up in her hands again, somehow.
On the 4th, 5th and 6th, she tries to warn the guards about the coup. Every single time, she gets laughed off - or worse, caught and punished.
On the 7th loop, she tries to warn Cinderella. Keyword, tries.
Her mother doesn't even let her get close enough to speak.
It's on the 8th loop that Red finds out she can't die - when she tries to physically stop her mother from unleashing her soldiers, and ends up sentenced to be beheaded for for treason alongside Cinderella.
She wakes up the morning of the 1st of September with a jagged scar looping around her throat.
On the 9th loop, she starts talking to Chloe.
It's hard, at first. Small talk, almost painful in it's awkwardness - the tension between their parents certainly doesn't help.
It's hard the second time too, and the third, and the fourth, and the fifth. She's not used to talking to someone who isn't subservient, isn't scared out of their wits of the terror her mother brings.
(She's not used to talking to someone who's genuinely nice to her.)
(She's not used to being genuinely nice to someone, either. Even despite the pang of guilt that Chloe's hurt expression puts through her chest every time she says something wrong, every time she fucks up.)
But day by day, reset by reset, Red starts to learn more.
She learns that Chloe's favourite colour is, unsurprisingly, blue. She learns that her Father's name is Christopher, and that she has an adoptive brother named Chad. She learns that she's planning on joining Auradon's Swords and Shields club.
She learns that one of her biggest dreams in life, above anything else, is to become a hero - a Knight.
(The brave, blue idiot. Of course it is. She's seen Chloe charge at her mother with naught but a sword and a roar of righteous fury at least 5 times now.)
(She's seen her get run through with a spear in retaliation for 3 of them.)
(She's seen her get beheaded for it once.)
The loops keep coming. Red keeps failing. But talking to Chloe makes it ever so slightly more bearable.
Even so, it does hurt sometimes, to know the Princess so well when she never, ever remembers Red in turn. To watch Chloe die or be imprisoned at her mother's hand again and again, to see the betrayal in her eyes - betrayal that turns to shock and horror in the fading corners of Red's vision after she grabs the nearest Card Soldier's spear and drives it through her own chest.
(What? It's a more efficient method than just going to sleep.)
The day repeats, over and over. Red keeps learning more and more about Princess Charming. She keeps trying to save her, over and over.
It doesn't work. It never does.
( "I'm going to fix this," she swears, on the 20th loop - while they sit together in a cell, awaiting their inevitable executions.
Chloe almost laughs at the notion - but something in the Princess of Wonderland's eyes makes her want to believe her.
When they get dragged out to the courtyard and forced onto the chopping block, when Red takes her hand in hers and offers her a cocky, confident grin, she almost does.)
Red keeps trying anyway.
Because any amount of deaths, any amount of executions, any amount of resets, is a fair price to pay to give Chloe a better outcome than this.
It's the very least she can do for her only friend.
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g3tosugu · 9 months
Text
wake up, sleepyhead
wriothesley x f!reader
wc: 2.1k
synopsis: this was just an excuse to write sleepy grumpy domestic wriothesley that is the whole point of this lmfao
a/n: i started writing this in past tense and then halfway through i changed to present tense for some reason???? anyway i just went with the present tense for this one so i apologize if you don't like that :c
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It's been about a week since you left the Fortress of Meropide. You had gone home to visit with your family after not seeing them in so long. Ever since you moved down to the Fortress of Meropide you were rarely without your boyfriend, Wriothesley. You were coping rather okay. It felt weird at first but you have your family with you. Wriothesley? Well, he had his own ways of coping. By burying himself in his work. Not only was he working harder than necessary, he was also beginning to take it out on others. It was pretty obvious to most of the prisoners and other workers that the Duke was in a mood.
“Wait, the Duke is coming, let’s move over to the cafeteria. His grace has been pretty agitated lately” a prisoner whispers to his friend in the direction of the production zone. The corner of Wriothesley’s mouth twitches in annoyance as he passes by them, fully being able to hear. “Don’t you have work you could be doing you two?” he speaks over his shoulder. Normally, he wouldn’t have given a remark like that any thought but today wasn’t normal. He felt like he was going insane.
"You know what" he turns to the guard that has been walking by his side, "Please give Miss Sigewinne my sincerest apologies. I have some work I would like to deal with back in my office". "Of course, your grace" the guard salutes and continues to make his way to the infirmary. Meanwhile, Wriothesley begins stomping his way back to his office. Once he is alone, he runs his fingers through his hair and sighs a very heavy and loud sigh. "I just need to get to work" he tries to shrug off whatever it is that is making him feel so insane.
When he sits down in his chair to begin working, the words on the papers in front of him seem almost foreign. His mind begins to trail off. The day before you left, the two of you went to the overworld to do some window shopping. You had been begging him for forever to do more domestic activities together. It wasn't that he didn't want to do those things with you, he just wasn't sure it would suit him or that he would even be good at them. He didn't want his lack of interest to drag down the mood but he knew he would be a fool if he ever turned down an offer to spend more time with you.
Images of you that day continue to pop up. The way the sun kissed your skin and made you almost glow, even in the light. The way you would engage in friendly conversation with the other Fontainians so effortlessly. It was like he was spending his days with an angel. You had run into Charlotte from the Steambird while you were out. He wasn't super familiar with the woman, only having met her on one or two occasions, but he knew you two were close. Before you moved down to the Fortress of Meropide you had actually worked at the Steambird. A little while after you worked there you almost got a job at the Court but Monsieur Neuvillette thought you would fit well working alongside Wriothesley. At first when he had discovered the Iudex had sent you to work with him, he was a little irritated. He wasn't one to go against the wishes of Neuvillette so of course he trusted his judgment regardless of his own personal feelings. But, not soon after you began your time there, he quickly realized the real reason why you were sent down there.
"So, how is Y/n doing with her position at the Fortress?" Neuvillette asked Wriothesley after they finished discussing other work matters. He eyed the Iudex for a moment, "I'm sure you can make a pretty good educated guess". A sly smile slowly graced Neuvillette's face, "That's good. I often worry you get too wrapped up in your work and forget that you can still be a person and not just the Duke". His sincere words make Wriothesley soften his body language a little more.
"I hope you are happy"
"I am. Thank you"
As Wriothesley's mind continues to play through the last time he was with you, his head lowers onto his desk and into his arms. His eyes close as he tries to soothe the headache that is beginning to pound at the back of his head with his thoughts of you. It wasn't long before he was asleep.
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When you arrive at the Fortress of Meropide you take in a long drawn out breath. "Home" you softly say to yourself. Yes you just were home technically but, this is different. This has become your new home.
You first make your way to the infirmary to visit with Sigewinne. "Y/n! You're back!" she smiles brightly before giving you a hug. "Oh I've missed you so much Sigewinne. I hope things have been alright down here" you fix her hat and hair for her after having accidentally tousled it in the hug. "Things have been fine! The Duke has been a little troublesome to deal with however" she giggles. "Oh? Has he been upset?" you ask concerned. "He's just been working a lot and it's been putting him in a bad mood. Although, I'm pretty sure it's just because he's been missing you so much" she explains. You smile fondly at the girl "I see. Well, I just wanted to see you to give you this" you reach into your bag and pull out a very ornate looking wooden bowl. Sigewinne's face lights up, "Ooh! You didn't need to bring me a gift". "Oh please there was no way I wasn't going to bring you something back. I just thought you might like to use it for medicine or even making your drinks" you smile as she takes the bowl from your hands. Her hands trace over the carvings of the bowl and she smiles up at you, "Thank you so much. I will make excellent use out of this!".
"It was nothing. Well, I'm going to go see Wriothesley now" you start to say your goodbye. "Oh, by the way, he was supposed to meet with me today to discuss something but he didn't show up. When the guard told me he decided not to come see me I got worried so I went to check on him" she goes on. "Is something the matter?" you ask as you wait for her to get to the point of her story. "He was asleep at his desk when I got there" she giggles softly. You smile "Don't worry. I'll make sure he gets proper rest in his own bed later".
You try to open and close the doors to Wriothesley's office as quietly as you possibly can. They are rather heavy doors and it's sort of a chore to open them at times which makes times of sneaking in very difficult. Guess that was the point. Once you make your way up the steps, you finally see him. Soundly sleeping with his head in his arms on his desk. You can't help the adoring smile that spreads across your face. His lips are slightly parted and his hair is gently tousled. When you get closer to him you notice a pink star sticker pressed to his cheek. "Oh Sigewinne" you softly laugh.
You've finally decided that you've admired your boyfriend and his beauty long enough. "Wriothesley" you gently touch his shoulder and say his name in a light sing-song voice to rouse him awake. His eyes flutter open and when they focus and see you standing next to him, he feels like he can breathe again. "You're back" his voice is just a little husky from having been sleeping with his mouth slightly open. "Indeed I am. Why are you asleep at your desk?" you ask as you set your bag down and begin to reorganize the papers that are messily spread around his desk.
He scratches the back of his head and yawns, "I was just resting my eyes". The way you immediately side eye him doesn't go unnoticed. "I talked to Sigewinne" you finish tidying, "She told me you've been burying yourself in work and you've been having a temper with everyone".
Wriothesley doesn't respond. He just stands up and pulls you into a tight hug, burying his face into the crook of your neck. "Archon, I've missed you so much" he sighs and takes a deep breath to take in your scent. Your heart melts as you feel the soft hum in his chest as he holds you against him. "I've missed you too, my love" you let one arm move from his back to allow your hand to find his hair. You rake your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck and you can almost feel him hold you tighter after the gesture. He really did miss you.
"How about, I get you home and get you to bed. It's starting to get late and you need a proper night of sleep" you gently push him away from you because you knew he wasn't moving if you didn't tell him to. The more the two of you stood there not embracing, the more his body mourned the loss of your touch. The man groans slightly when you move even further away from him to get ready to leave.
"Man you are just Mr. Grumpypants" you tease as you sling your bag over your shoulder. Wriothesley chuckles, "Can you blame me? I've been without Mrs. Grumpypants for the past week" he grabs his coat off the back of his chair. "'Mrs?'" you glance over at him before fixing your hair. The grumpy mood that he was in suddenly dissipates when he hears the hopeful sounding tone in your voice.
He walks over to you and lifts his hand to the side of your face and cups your cheek. His thumb gently rubs your cheekbone and you nestle your face into his hand like you have to chase it. Your eyes look up into his. "I know that look" you softly say as you feel yourself sway closer into him. You never thought you would live to see the day where the Lord of the Fortress of Meropide had the most intense look of yearning you've ever seen on a person's face.
You lift your hand to the back of his head and pull him down to kiss him. The way your lips move in sync with each other and how connected you feel in the moment is enough to make you feel like you were in a dream. His rough hands everyone knows can cause serious damage are now delicately placed in your hair and on your waist.
When you separate, you move your hand from his hair and finally remove the sticker that was stuck to the side of his face. "Couldn't have said anything earlier?" he laughs. "What? Pink is totally your color" you grin.
When the two of you return home together, Wriothesley thinks back to the thoughts he was having before he fell asleep in his office. The thought he had about how he knew you loved the domesticity in a relationship. He looked down at his hands and at the scars that covered his arms. The same hands and arms that hold you so gently. Memories flood his mind of all the times the two of you held each other, made dinner together and shared stories of your days with each other. "I was thinking" he starts as you enter the room for bed, "We should make that window shopping thing a weekly thing". "Oh yeah?" you smile. You make your way across the room to him and stand in front of where he is sitting on the edge of the bed. He absentmindedly reaches out for you and pulls you onto his lap so you straddle him. Him being touchy when you were alone wasn't abnormal. The fact that you knew he was acting like this because of how much he missed you made it different. "I think instead of just window shopping once a week, how about we go see a show at the opera house? You always talk about how you've been missing it" you suggest as you run your fingers through his hair. A toothy grin forms on his face, "I can't wait". He wasn't as bad at this domestic stuff as he thought.
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wcbblife · 2 months
Text
Public love
Prompt (I accidentally deleted the ask sorry): could you do a short story about Paige accepting an award and telling everyone that Azzi and her are dating?
a/n: guys I'm trying to finish all my recent asks in my inbox I swear. Life's been lifin' all of the sudden and I barely have time to write so apologies for that. Got a lot of drafts that I'm working on rn.
Warning: Paige is a yapper. Some spelling mistakes (hopefully not). A bit rushed tbh
“You look hilarious,” Azzi giggled, staring at her phone screen where their FaceTime call was running.
“Thanks, Azzi,” Paige deadpanned, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. She wiped her palms on her pants, only for Brittany to swat her hands away, scolding her.
Azzi's smile softened as Paige protested, her eyebrows furrowing. “You know you don't have to do this, right?”
“Don't start with that, Azzi,” Paige's exasperated tone didn't go unnoticed as she wiped her hands on a nearby towel. “We agreed that today was the day.”
Azzi threw her hands up in defeat, her smile unwavering. “I'm just saying.”
Paige had underestimated how bad her nerves would flare up at the idea of stepping onto a stage full of legends, with cameras recording her every move, to profess her love for her girlfriend to the whole entire world to see. It had been a tough conversation, but Azzi had convinced Paige to wait until the season was over, when they were no longer teammates.
“I'll do it, just you watch.” Suddenly, the normal confidence Paige always had resurfaced as a smug look settled on her face.
Azzi could still see through the facade.
“Hey, you know it's already on in the living room,” Azzi said, flipping the camera to show the TV. It showed the red carpet, which was almost over, and Paige's panic returned.
“Gosh, I just wish you were here.” Paige set her phone in front of her, properly showing her whole upper body to Azzi. She looked stunning. The blonde hunched over, taking a deep breath. “It would be easier.”
“You know I would be there if I could, babe. Something came up.” For a moment, there was complete silence, except for the rustling of Azzi dropping onto her sofa. “Plus, I won't have like… a million cameras shoved in my face. Which is nice.”
“Yeah, you're right.”
“Alright, you two, we gotta wrap it up. Paige, you're up in a few.” Brittany's voice startled the blood out of Paige's face as she flinched.
Azzi giggled. “I'll get going. And Paige… just do what feels right when you get up there, okay?”
“Yeah. I'll try.” She cleared her throat. “I love you.”
“Love you too, Paige.”
______
Paige was totally not ready for it. As the awards passed one by one, she found it increasingly harder to stay still in her seat.
“Bro, do you have ants on your ass or something?” Aubrey chuckled, whispering towards Paige.
“Something like that.” Paige adjusted her suit, applying pressure to her chest. She felt like she was going to throw up.
“Seriously, you good?” From her other side, Ice whispered, her expression a bit more worried than Aubrey's. Even with the makeup, Paige looked pale as a ghost.
“I'm good.”
Aubrey and Ice exchanged questioning looks as Paige didn't even bother to glance at them, her eyes glued to the presenters.
The lump in her throat grew until it was hard to swallow. She tensed when her phone buzzed in her pants.
From: Azzi
You look nervous, babe. [Attached image]
Paige opened the image, seeing a picture of her on the tv screen, jaw clenched and eyes wide.
From: Paige
I look crazy.
From: Azzi
You don't have to do this, Paige.
From: Paige
I want to, Azzi.
Do you not want me to?
From: Azzi
Of course I do.
From: Paige
That's all the I need to hear then.
From: Azzi
I just don't want you to feel stressed or obligated.
Especially in front of such an important stage and audience.
From: Paige
Then it's decided.
“Hey!” CD whispered from behind her. “Put your phone away, missy. This isn't the place for texting.”
“Sorry CD.” Paige rubs the back of her neck, feeling a bit embarrassed to have been called out at such an age. She put her phone away and heard the next award being announced.
Best female college athlete.
Paige straightens up, silently thanking CD from snapping her out of her little daydream. They went through the nominees, teasing the winner before finally announcing the long-awaited name.
Paige Bueckers from the University of Connecticut.
The crowd burst into cheers as Paige let out a huff of air and made her way through the row after a few hugs from her teammates.
She shuffled through the rows and climbed to the stage, where she was met with a few hugs and finally her trophy.
“Wow.” She huffs, looking around the venue, “I would like to start by saying that it's an honor to be able to receive this amazing award for a second time. I can't express just how much it means to stand here after all the hardships thrown my way.”
Speaking to such an intimidating crowd, knowing there were thousands watching from their homes, never got easier for Paige.
“Second, I'd like to thank my family. Thank you for sticking by my side and being my anchor through everything. Without them, I wouldn't be standing here today. And to my teammates, who have been my rock. They were a force to be reckoned with all season, and it was thanks to them that we brought home a championship.”
The crowd hung on her every word.
“It's no secret the injuries that have plagued our team these past seasons and even me a few years ago. It felt liberating knowing that if I ever fell, they would be there to pick me up and I don't think I could ever express how much I love those girls and just how much they mean to me”
Paige thought of Azzi at home, watching her, and the basketball legends before her. She traced the lines of the trophy, clearing her throat.
“To my coaches, who weren't afraid to show me tough love, I appreciate you all. It made my time at Connecticut all the more enjoyable. To Geno, who didn't shy away from telling me how to be the best and how to make those around me be better. I’m glad that I'll be able to call Uconn my home for as long as I live because it's an honor. Whether it sounds odd, I thank God that I tore my ACL while surrounded by such an amazing family because I wouldn't have been able to bounce back in such a dominant manner."
It was now or never.
“One of the main reasons I'm eternally grateful for this program is because I was able to build a deeper relationship with a teammate who you all may know very well,” Paige shifts her hands, feeling them sweat again. “We went through the same injury, and everything was easier to navigate with her around because we just got each other and knew what we were going through. I want to thank her for her love and unconditional support because she deserves that and more. She picked me up when it felt impossible."
She chuckled. Paige had been on big stages many times, but this felt different. The ground beneath her feet seemed to shift as the blood rushed to her ears, muffling the sounds around her. Her surroundings faded as she locked eyes with the big camera before her.
“That's why... I would like to thank my amazing girlfriend, Azzi Fudd, in front of everyone here today because she deserves the world.” Paige hears the muffled sound of gasps and cheers. “So, because I know she's home watching, I love you, baby. None of this would be possible without you.”
Paige took a deep breath, feeling a crushing weight lift off her chest. It was done.
She smiled for the first time that night and looked away from the camera, addressing the crowd. “Thank you for this award. I'll cut my speech short since I know it's running a bit long.” Laughter spread through the crowd, but most looked shocked, especially her teammates. She lifted her trophy with a smile, realizing how little she cared about anyone's opinion. “Thank you.”
______
“Didn't think you had it in you,” Caroline said, opening the door to Paige's makeup room. “Seriously, dude. Getting up there and just saying, 'oh, and I'm dating my bestie by the way' is crazy”
Paige deflated in her chair. After her speech, she had been ushered away for pictures and questions and hadn't heard from her teammates. She hadn't even checked her phone which was undoubtedly flooded with missed calls and messages.
“I wanted to throw up.”
Then, as if on cue, Aubrey, Ice, and KK entered together. “Dude, what the fuck was that?” KK screamed, laughing together with Ice. “Huge balls you got there, dude.”
“Oh, shut up, KK. Like you aren't head over heels over your girl too.” Paige shot back, eyebrows furrowing as she checked her phone. KK and Ice burst out laughing, dragging Aubrey to sit on the couch.
“It's on Do Not Disturb, Paige.” Sensing the urgency, Caroline put a hand on her shoulder, pointing at the unmistakable symbol of DND.
“Thanks.” Paige mumbled, turning it off and feeling relieved as messages flooded in. Hundreds of notifications took over her phone, but she only cared about one.
“Dude, you're already trending on Twitter.” Aubrey showed her screen, Twitter opened, but Paige didn't bother looking.
“Oh, and the articles are already popping up,” Ice added.
Finally, after some searching, Paige found Azzi's message.
From: Azzi
Such a sweet talker.
I love you too Paige
From: Paige
You liked it?
I tried to keep it short but I think that was too little or maybe too much??
I definitely could've added more to it.
What did you think?
Paige stared at the messages, nervous to hear from Azzi.
From: Azzi
Hey, I loved it Paige.
You can always finish it when you get home to me
That validation calmed Paige almost immediately. Nothing seemed to matter anymore.
From: Paige
Wanna call? I could tell you everything now.
From: Azzi
Yeah… if I'm correct, CD is about to burst through that door any second.
Either that or every reporter that was in that building wants to hear from you after that declaration of love in front of the whole world.
Let's wait until you get to the hotel, okay?
Right on cue, the rest of the team entered her room.
From: Paige
Good idea.
Love you
From: Azzi
Love you too
156 notes · View notes
satyricplotter · 5 months
Text
pairing: dick grayson x reader
word count: 3.2k (i think?)
warnings: rape mention (as per dick's canon)
notes: i keep thinking of applying one of my favourite manga/manhwa tropes with dick specifically, because it works so well, but i don't particularly care to put in the work of setting up that it'd take for it to land as well as it could. maybe later. as it is, i'll give you the quick rundown because i spent two days writing it lol
something ugly about you has made you undeserving of romance. you have spent your entire life puzzling out what it is and how to fix it. nothing much is special about you: the matter’s far from isolation, or becoming any particular sort of pariah. perhaps that'd be easier to explain. no. people leave you alone, your friends cherish you, your family loves you. it is not that you have not known affection, but that you have and so when you crash against the wall that horrible first time, it hurts all the more.
nothing changes after that. there is always a limit to where your interest can reach, unnamed but palpable. a line you cannot cross. it seems to you as if the entire world has reached a silent consensus during a meeting to which your attendance was not required and your input unnecessary. why would it be? this is not about you. after all, your ability to love has not become impaired. you like people. you’ve fallen in love. but who has ever loved you back?
this one facet of life has been closed off to you entirely, and you’ve been chased away from all attempts to form a romantic bond with unspoken threats of shame and implications of disgust. (a bit much of a display just for the offense of being little old you. you come to regard the matter so as you grow older and start curating some self-respect. it still stings as badly as scrubbing your skin raw under hot water, but not all the loathing is directed inward nowadays.)
regardless, you’ve learnt that you are undesirable, and nothing you can say or do will change that. you must be content with the other shapes that love can take. nothing that you want matters whatsoever.
you meet dick grayson one summer evening under exceedingly normal circumstances. you do not know about heroes or rogues, no batmans or nightwings. the person that crosses the threshold is none other than dick grayson, the handsome young man. suspicion does not cross anybody’s mind, and if it does, it comes only a good couple of thoughts after his darling smile and shapely thighs.
obviously you like him immediately. what’s not to like? he’s gorgeous.
you react to him with the tense wariness of someone hardened by years of useless crushes. trying to avoid him. trying to be normal when you invariably cannot. it’s fine. it’ll be fine.
you still crush on him.
it’s inevitable, at this point. he’s too pretty, too smart, too kind not to draw you in. every interaction comes a rush of exhilarating fear. at times, you manage to subdue yourself into normalcy, hang out with him with as much naturalness as you can muster. but then he does something particularly attractive and you’re back in square one, shoulders drawn together and so short with him he probably gets emotional whiplash. it’s as exhausting for you as it must be for him, and he still reacts to it with grace. it doesn’t help.
through your concerted efforts to be normal, or at least appear as much, you and dick become friends. not great friends, mind you, but good enough that you start hanging out on your own without any of your mutual friends present. and you only spend about three hours total pondering the meaning behind the phrasing of his texts. that’s gotta be some form of progress, right?
he sits at a little table away from the window, and beams when you arrive. coffee’s on him and conversation’s on you. you’ve got more in common than you first thought, but you go back and forth between imagining it must be fate and squashing down delusion, telling yourself you’re blowing it out of proportion.
at one point in time, a beautiful, sultry-looking woman approaches the table.
you and dick tense immediately, like you both know what’s coming. sure as ever, the woman smiles and asks for his number. you look away politely, sip at your drink. the proximity makes it useless to pretend you’re not eavesdropping (though it can hardly be called that when she came to your table), but you take care not to make any faces that’d give away the little storm brewing in your stomach.
this sucks, you think, glancing away from dick’s bland mask of politeness. all of it is hopeless and it still sucks.
you think about running off to the bathroom, get as far as shifting on your seat when dick shoots you a troubled look. the woman’s been at it for a little more than is appropriate. a minute or so more of insistence and she’ll be stretching the boundaries of her own dignity too far. you look away with pressed lips and move your hands under the table.
your alarm beeps.
“oh, shit, dude,” you gasp, hoping to land somewhere in the ballpark of realism. “It’s almost seven. we’ve got to go, or else we’re gonna miss the movie.”
dick gives the woman his apologies and swiftly runs out of the café with you hot on his heels. on the way to the movie theatre, you wanna ask the million questions running through your head—why’d he reject her? didn’t he like her? did he not think she was pretty? who is pretty for him? what’s his taste in partners? is he seeing someone?—but you know it’s a futile endeavor. what will you even get out of that? it’s clear dick didn’t enjoy the interaction either. you make small talk about something else, trying to draw his attention away from whatever conflicted feelings he’s moored in right now. just because you like him doesn’t mean you can’t be a good friend to him.
it’s a short walk. soon enough, he’s all smiles again. in the line for the popcorn stand, another two girls come up to him, this time much younger than you two. he’s nicer with them than he was before, but he rejects them all unequivocally.
“doesn’t it annoy you?” you can’t help but ask. when dick raises an elegant eyebrow, you panic and backpedal so hard you might as well have driven a truck through a storefront.
“a bit,” dick says, ignoring your rambling. you shut your mouth firmly closed when he gives you a sidelong glance, and continues, so very casually, “it’s worse when it comes from a friend rather than a stranger. so many people just try to befriend me because they’re looking for a relationship, or they want access to my body. it’s… tiring. i’m sure you can relate.”
“ah,” you say. your tongue feels numb, but you’re burning up under the weight of his gaze. “no. I don’t really get harassed like that or, um, asked out.”
“huh.” dick blinks. “really?”
“yeah,” you force out. blessedly, the attendant calls your attention. you jostle dick forward. “look, it’s our turn.”
dick orders popcorn. you get a large slushy that you’re not gonna finish. you make him pay. he complies with no question. inside the theatre, you spend all two hours and sixteen minutes of the showing in absolute silence. it is not so strange to be fixated on the movie, but you’re usually a little more chatty. under normal circumstances, you’d eagerly take the opportunity to lean closer to him, whisper something about the main character’s penchant for gummies and its relation to the degradation of the American working class. he’d glance at you and thoughtfully smile, and you’d catch a whiff of his cologne when you straightened.  for the rest of the movie, the twinkle of his eye as he forwent the film for your conversation would be all you’d think about.
such is not the case now.
you can tell when you’ve been summarily dismissed. in fact, you appreciate when people are subtle about their rejections. it’s always all the more humiliating when they feel the need to bring it out into the open, like your affections have been so blatant they must be commented on, debated.
the rest of the evening is spent convincing yourself that this is good, that this means it’ll be better for yourself going forward. you’ll be less distracted, if anything. dick’s attempts to discuss the movie with you afterwards fall flat, as the only thing you really want is to get home and stare at your ceiling.
when you’ve reached your apartment door, and are turning to enter after a hurried goodbye, dick calls your name.
“look,” he says, running a hand through his hair unsurely. “I don’t usually do this.”
oh, no. dread fills you up. he’s breaking up with you and you’re not even dating.
you swallow. “dick—”
“I like you a lot,” he interrupts. your teeth clang the way you shut up so fast. in fact, you feel a little dizzy. he continues before you can even process that first sentence. “I think you and I could be really good friends, and I’d love if we could continue seeing each other to, you know, hang out and talk. I do truly appreciate your insight. is that okay?”
you blink fast some three or four times. it must be comical, the face you’re making, because the corner of dick’s lips pulls upward despite him trying to keep a serious air.
“I thought we were already friends…?” you say, at a loss for anything else to say.
“yes!” he beams. “we are.”
“okay,” you respond, perplexed. this is so far out of left field. “um. text me when you’re home?”
“yeah.” he grins. gorgeous grin, to be sure, but why? “for sure.”
“cool.” you give him an awkward thumbs up and scurry inside.               
it is… baffling. you spend all of that night wide awake and pondering. dick must’ve misconstrued something, or either you missed a crucial step in your relationship. otherwise the end to that evening makes absolutely no sense. the only thing you can conjure up is that dick must reject a lot of people who, like he said, try to befriend him only to get with him or worse, only to fuck, and it’s not very likely most of those people stay in his life once it is clear he won’t budge on the matter. the fact that you didn’t immediately turn your back on him must’ve come to him as a pleasant surprise.
it’s sad. like, really fucking sad, actually.
that very sadness—and the memory of his handsome, bright grin—turns your outlook inside out. why do you like dick? clearly he’s got the looks and the personality, but do you really know him? what do you know of him? you make a list of things you’ve learned about him in the short time of knowing him. it’s not long.
you come to the conclusion, mortifyingly so, that you don’t, in fact, like dick grayson. that, if anything, the only thing you like is the idea of the boyfriend he could be, which is not the boyfriend that he is (you know nothing about that). it’s the social acumen inherent in bagging such a hottie, and the sparkling sexual attraction bound around it, that really prompt your crushing. it’s not dick as a person. frankly, you think, a little hysterically, could be anyone, really. didn’t even have to be dick. he was just there, the handsomest person in the room. an apt target for the voracious hunger of your heart. you’d mooned and mooned over him for ages and it turns out it wasn’t even about him.
god, you’re such an asshole.
in penance, you endeavor to actually get to know dick without the embarrassment of a crush between you. and it does, in fact, help. dick’s eager to get to know you too, now that you’ve both formally acknowledged you’re friends (such a weird practice, fresh out of kindergarten behavior, but, as you soon find out, dick is weird about plenty and not entirely well-adjusted as an adult). you go on outings together, attend one another’s events, text sporadically throughout the day. you learn which video games dick likes, you tell him which movies are your favorites. it’s fun and light and uncomplicated now that you’ve freed yourself from the constraints of romantic expectation.
not everything’s good. dick’s got bad habits, which grate on you. is it so difficult to put the stupid toilet seat down? can he not learn to chop vegetables in chunks smaller than an elephant’s baby teeth? can he, for the love of god, stop yelling at the tv during horror films?  he’s got some serious character flaws, too. you find about those a lot more slowly, but they don’t cause too much trouble.
you fight one or two times due to dick suddenly abandoning you in the middle of an outing with no regard for your safety, and his tendency to get pissy instead of saying whatever’s upsetting him upfront when he knows, you’ve warned him that you’re stupidly thoughtless about your actions at times. all those are things you wouldn’t have come to experience if you hadn’t given the man a chance to actually be a friend. it’s kind of heartening, actually, to have come so far.
sometimes your crush rears up its head in the middle of nowhere. it’s kind of hopeless by now, but you can’t help the fact that dick’s attractive. neither can he, anyway. you just watch him sometimes, the way the sun hits his eyes, lashes sweeping over his cheeks. it makes you go tongue-tied and silly, but the moment always passes. it has to pass. you struggle against it, recall every time dick has upset you or insulted you in one way or the other. some days it’s easy as buttering toast, others you can barely think around the searing heat of your desire. those are bad days for all involved.
one evening, when you’ve grown close enough you’ve begun to think about dick grayson as maybe, possibly, only-if-he-says-so-too your closest friend, he tells you about catalina.
he does it over the phone line, during your almost-nightly calls. over the months, you’ve taken up the practice of teasing him about handsome people he clearly finds attractive in a desperate bid to divert attention and train yourself for when you have to do it for real. this is not one of such cases, and as soon as you realize this, you sober up immediately.
he says it so simply. talks about it like it’s just a hazard of life. there’s a tight hardness at the edge of his voice, but other than that, he speaks like it’s normal Tuesday for him.
not so much for you.
“is it okay if I come over?” you request over the line.
for a moment, the only thing you hear is dick breathe. “yeah,” he croaks, and you’re bolting out the room immediately.
you don’t know how to react to this other than with a shaky sort of desperation. it’s been years since it happened. there’s nothing you can do about it now. there’s something big he’s leaving out, which you notice but don’t point out. a big lump forms on your throat as he speaks. dick tells you when you arrive that the woman is behind bars for an unrelated crime and the only way you stop yourself from wishing ill on her out loud is the fact he looks so politely disjointed, you know your fury will only startle him.
and you feel it so frightfully, the fury.
you love dick, you realize. beyond the fancies and the underlying attraction, you love dick as a person, as a friend. he’s one of yours now.
the evening morphs into a casual sleepover. you don’t interrogate him, and he seems torn between wanting to say more and grateful you’re not prying. you keep yourself open to the possibility, but also try to comfort him as best you can. you make dinner. you put on a movie. you talk and joke and quietly watch. he invites you on the bed with him because his couch is a nightmare to sleep in and his guest room is “unavailable”, whatever that means. you don’t even think about it, just follow.
lying together under the sheets with the lights off, the rest of your feelings bubble up to the surface.
you ask before you clasp his hands between yours and look into his shiny eyes in the darkness. you try to tell him, how this single evening and all those that came before turned over your loyalty to him. how he can come to you for anything he ever wants or needs—your ear, your care, your protection. how much you appreciate his trust and how much you wish you could make anything, everything better for him. how much he deserves it.
“I’ll never leave you now,” you vow with fierce conviction, searching his eyes for any signs of doubt. any other time you would’ve questioned this statement with the sheer weight of infinite possibilities, but not now. tonight, truth is absolute and in your hand. “they will never take me from you. I will always be on your side, by your side. i’m serious, grayson. you’re not getting rid of me.”
a glimpse of  a watery smile is the only thing you see before dick throws his arms around you and buries his face in your neck. “couldn’t dream of it,” he whispers into your hair.
you hug him back as tightly as he is, murmuring platitudes and running your fingers through his hair. he falls asleep like that, in the cradle of your arms. he feels secure enough to do so, and you feel both proud and nauseous about it considering the secret you keep.
that he’s told you this at all, that he’s trusted you with such a thing—you know how big it is. you know you can never betray him.
you consider your inherent monstrosity, that little unspeakable thing that bars your from that special kind of love. you understand, firmly, that any desire you feel will never be received eagerly and joyfully. not by him or anyone else.  in silent fury, you vow to die before you be like her, to bestow upon this man your grotesque wanting with no regard for his own desire, for the integrity of his being.
that night, you press a kiss to dick grayson’s hair and let him go forever.
.
the next morning, dick watches as you leave. you turn back one last time to wave at him from the parking lot, a bright smile and tussled hair you didn’t bother to brush. you wear out the clothes he lent you to sleep, so harried last night in your haste to come over that you’d simply forgotten to pack pajamas. he suspects you hadn’t planned to stay the night at all, but he’d been damned if he’d let you go yesterday.
you’re pretty. he’s always thought so, but this morning, you’re prettier than ever. it’s the radiance of your heart shining through.
I will always be by your side, you’d said last night. you’d meant it completely, then. dick had been dazed, overcome. he couldn’t take the brightness of your eyes, the surety of your affection. he’d buried his head in your neck and fallen asleep breathing in the smell of your shampoo. in the morning, he’d woken up with your fingers carding through his hair and the gentle warmth of your body against his.
that was nice. he wonders what he has to do to make it happen again.
272 notes · View notes
anundyingfidelity · 5 months
Text
I'M A RUIN — Soldier Boy/Ben (Part VIII)
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Series summary: After the events of the Seven Tower, you present Grace Mallory a new secret project you're working on already to develop a cure to Compound V. The only problem? You need Soldier Boy for that.
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.
Word count: 5.1k.
Warnings for series: set after S3 (spoilers), some OOC!Ben, some depressed!Ben, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, slow-burn, language, PTSD, reader has Compound V (she's no Vought supe tho), Soldier Boy being an usual asshole, reader is a fucking liar.
Warnings on this chapter: irresponsable parent, one suicide thought, nudity, implied bisexual reader, misoginist thoughts, Homelander (!!!!), SMUT, hate/rough sex, unprotected sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, dirty talking, some degrading, slight choking, bitchy reader.
Notes: i might wrote more than intended here lmao but the smut is here finally you sinners, give this reader a trophy for the strongest bitch ever to resist soldier boy, well deserved!! hope you like it lol, and thanks for reading as always!!
this fic tags: @k-slla @syrma-sensei @mostlymarvelgirl @cheynovak @drasticemotions @soldirboy @deans-spinster-witch @girlsforpjm @artemys-ackles
☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !
get yourself in the taglist!
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII
GEN MASTERLIST! — SERIES MASTERLIST!
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Part VIII: Tamed
2009
"Baby, how was your audition today?" your mother asked once you entered the kitchen.
Your suit was long gone along with the great smile you put on before leaving early that day. But she was different. She was all honey and candy, putting on the happiest face ever. And you knew it wasn't because of you.
"I'm not doing that shit," you spit harshly. This was your way of delivering the news now.
Her eyes widened as she closed the distance between both. You looked down to your feet, not wanting to see her disgusting face. You felt her hands on your shoulders and your body tensed under her touch.
"Why?! This is your dream, honey! You have to do it!"
You quickly pulled away from her.
"No! Mom, you did this to me!" your voice came out loud and shouting. "I just wanted to be normal! But you always influenced me to do this and go after Vought, I don't fucking want that! Those supes are fucking assholes and everything around them is a damn lie!"
She was startled, you could tell that from the way her eyes widened and her mouth fell open as she placed her hand on top of her heart, pretending to be hurted. It was the first time you talked back to her like that.
Since you were a child, you did everything she asked you to. You never complained, never stood up for yourself. You didn't have a choice, nor an opinion that mattered. Your mother picked everything for you. Your clothes, your behavior, your food, your studies, your dreams... Today, you decided it was over. She was over controlling your life.
Your mother scoffed, a sly smile on her lips as she tried to touch your arm softly. Giving a step back, you shook your head saying 'no'. She sighed.
"Honey, this isn't you. And Vought, this is your dream. The Seven are your dream. Now, why don't you go back and-"
"I said no."
You cut off her stupid words with a straight voice. Her smile dropped in a second and you saw her eyes darkening.
"Y/N, this is not what your father wanted for you. We didn't raise you like this," she hissed through her teeth. 
"Don't talk about dad. You don't care about him, you never did. Fuck, you don't care about me!" you raised your voice, fighting the tears in your eyes and the knot on your throat.
You were so sick of being weak. She raised you to be like it. Soft, fragile, compassionate, cute, playing the dumb rich girl with no brain and forcing you to not show your intelligence to others... It was all a façade. It was easier for her to manipulate you if you pretended to be stupid. Since her pregnancy, all you were for her was a cashback. Your father already had an heir, and what could be better if that heir was also part of The Seven, the most powerful supes of the planet. Of course, Vought shares would be higher than ever and your mother would be even more disgustingly rich. And you would be giving everything away for free. It wasn't fair for your selfish mother to suck your life away like this. But in the end, she didn't care.
"I'm not staying here. I'm leaving," you continued, crossing your arms on your chest. "I want my part of dad's inheritance, and I'm gonna be a fucking doctor and show off my brain after decades of hiding it, I've had enough of you stopping me."
"No, no, baby, you can't do this to me–"
"If you don't, I'll sue you and expose you, Vought and Homelander on a fucking trial."
She scoffed. You could see the tears forming on her eyes, but you weren't sure if they were because of you leaving or because you were threatening her money.
"You won't do that. They'll kill you."
"I don't care, I already tried to kill myself. They'd be doing me a favor."
At your confession, her jaw clenched and she tightened her fists.
"Fucking brat. Someday, when you regret running away from me, don't come back. You're just a disappointment for me, ever since you were a stupid child. Everything you are is useless and worthless, and I regret ever putting you in my womb."
Your brows furrowed when she spilled those harsh words, and you fought the urge of hitting her until she passed out.
"Don't think I ever told you, but yeah, you weren't a natural conceive. Yeah, we used his sperm and everything. The point is- I didn't want fucking kids, but your dad, ugh god, he did. And I gave you to him. All I get to say is, I was better without you. Probably if I should've waited just a little, my child wouldn't be a fucking ungrateful piece of shit standing right here," she gave you a grin. A sick one, as her fingers ran through your hair like she used to when you were a little girl.
You wanted to knock her off and run. But you just stood there, biting the inside of your cheek and tasting your own blood as she finally revealed herself to you, her daughter. It was clear you meant nothing to her. And you just wished your dad would be alive. He wouldn't force you into that stupid audition anyway.
"I pity you," she mocked. "But if that's what you wanna do, then leave. And don't you dare to come back."
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A loud knock on his door woke him up from a deep slumber. Ben rubbed his eyes, groaning at the stupid sound of your voice calling him from the other side over and over. This was becoming a fucking routine he was starting to hate.
"Fucking shit," he mumbled, removing the blankets off his bare body when the door finally opened and you walked inside, stopping by his side of the bed.
"C'mon, Soldier Boy, get your ass up. You didn't wash the dishes last night."
Ben rolled on the bed and looked at the clock in the nightstand. He grunted. "It's fucking 6 A.M."
"Yes, and I have shit to do before I leave grocery shopping," you said, looking around his room. There were clothes everywhere you knew needed a good wash, an open bag with weed on top of the desk, joints and cigarettes, and a bunch of toilet paper littered on the floor you didn't want to know about. "One of them is watching you to make sure you clean the cave you live in."
Ben groaned, cursing under his breath, but stood up from the mattress with a wide grin. He noticed you always did your best to keep your eyes upon his face. Even if it wasn't the first time you had to see him like this, he enjoyed the way your body and face reacted to his naked form. So he got used to sleeping with no clothes on, knowing you'd always come to get him for breakfast. He could get used to it. Except for the part where he had to clean shit. That's why you were there. It was your fucking task to clean everything. Women's duties. But he had to endure the fucking times.
He got to complain to you every single day, every morning, and it was becoming already part of his routine too. But you somehow forced him to clean shit up and then he had to wait for his food, for his weed, lube and more clothes and shit you brought every time you were out. At some point, he thought he could be used to you feeding him up, but he still had a mission and it didn't matter how many times he had been sneaking into every room in your place, checking inside your office, how many times he had been searching through your bedroom on the drawers and smelling your lingerie, he still found nothing. He was pretty sure there was something else he wasn't really seeing yet. And Homelander on the TV along with those fuckers Victoria and Dakota Bob wasn't making his personal mission any easier, nor having no clue of where this kid Ryan was.
"Put some pants on," you said, interrupting his daydream.
"Whatever," Ben rolled his eyes and walked past you, taking a pair of pants from the carpeted floor.
"God, you're so fucking stoned," you mumbled watching as he dressed himself. "Get this mess cleaned after the dishes, I don't want to greet this shithole every morning."
"And what's in it for me, doll?" he asked, passing by your side and getting inside the bathroom.
He never bothered to shut the door closed while taking a piss, and this was, also, something you got used to seeing and hearing. When he finished, he came back with a smirk, stopping his tracks right in front of you.
"Nothing. There's nothing for you, stop acting like a dog begging for a bone."
"Yeah, well I'd like your pretty bones better.”
He gave you a wink and walked out the bedroom. God, he was so damn annoying. You followed him quickly and climbed down the stairs just to make sure he would start washing the dirty dishes from the last dinner you had.
“Make sure to scrub them correctly,” you said as you looked at how he turned on the sink.
Ben grunted in frustration, looking at you from the corner of his eye. It was always the fucking same with you, giving him directions he already knew the whole time.
“Fuck, woman, you’re so fucking annoying. I’m no damn pussy, I can do this without your ass here.”
The way he answered made you grin, getting closer to him until your arm was pressed against his own. “Yeah, I know you’re not stupid. I’m just making sure I’m taming you well.”
Ben’s eyes widened a little, clearly surprised by your boldness but not too much. Because the one who should be taming who, was him towards you. His macho self wouldn’t let a woman treat him like that. It didn’t matter he was hitting on you since the moment he met you in the facility, like doctor and patient. Ben was pretty sure that, besides his own personal payback, you would fall for him eventually. And once you do, because he was pretty sure it’d happen sooner or later, he would give you the best fuck ever. He turned his gaze to you as you looked at him with innocent eyes.
“I’d shut my mouth if I were you, sweetheart,” Ben warned in a low voice, taking in your figure standing so close to him that your warmth could be felt all along his body. “I don’t wanna screw you yet.”
“I take that as a challenge.”
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The sun was almost setting down as you drove back home. It took you more than expected to complete the second shopping trip of the week and you were getting tired and spent. Sleep was becoming a privilege at this point. The past nights you had confined yourself to the lab down the bunker, and just now, you felt the cure was ready. Almost ready. The most important component was missing and you were still considering things you might regret later.
The low sound of the radio accompanied your thoughts as you traveled on the road, and the ways you’d like to tell Soldier Boy about all the mess you were getting into under Grace’s supervision, who had just called two fucking times in days. But part of you was afraid Ben wouldn’t understand the importance of a cure. He was a supe, and without his powers, he was fucking nothing. Just like Homelander. Even if he had made it clear that he hated his own son, you doubted to trust him and you felt the same hateful feeling towards you coming from him. At this point, you knew you were just putting up a stupid act.
And you started wondering if it should’ve been easier if you just let him between your legs and take what he wanted. He was a simple man; he saw a fuckable female, he wanted her. Surely you also knew when a man, woman, or anyone was attractive, but you just didn’t want that. You didn’t want him to feel like he won this battle. It was too fucking much, and you stopped sleeping around with strangers a couple of years back. The problem was, Ben wasn’t a stranger anymore, not to you.
Suddenly, a figure landed a few feet away from you on the highway. You hit the brake of your car as fast as your reflexes allowed you to, seeing red, blue and white. Once your car stopped completely, you met with the last person you’d ever wanted to see. Homelander smiled widely as you locked eyes with him through the windshield. He surrounded the car until he came by your side, standing outside your door. You turned on the flashing lights of the car and turned the engine off, it wasn't like you could escape anyway.
“Nice to see you around, doc,” he greeted.
“Why are you following me?”
“I told you before; I have eyes on you.”
You rolled your eyes, grabbing tightly the wheel between your hands. “I don't know what you want me to do.”
“Don’t be stupid. That cure won’t see the light, I’m making sure of that,” Homelander leaned on your open window and your head moved away slightly as he studied the insides of your car.  “You’re welcome by the way.”
“For what? For trying to kill me? For taking my father’s money for your stupid circus? For touching me?” you hissed.
He chuckled, straightening himself again. “For taking you out, silly.”
A long sigh escaped your lips. “So this is your plan in the end.”
“It always has been. I know every move you make, the stores you go each week, I even know where you’re living right now and how you work your ass off that stupid experiment of yours,” his words made you visibly tense and he noticed, like every little reaction coming from you. “How’s the old man doing by the way?” he asked, as if it was just another chat between friends.
“You make me sick.”
“Oh, no. I want you healthy,” Homelander placed a hand on your wrist. “Please eat well and rest enough. Don’t burn yourself out, honey, it's useless.”
You started shaking your head, confusion fogging your mind at the way he talked like he had something prepared for you. “You’re fucked, Homelander,” you whispered.
You were trying to convince yourself more than him, scared of what he would do to you, forcing you into this twisted mouse and cat game. He just smiled widely at your words, laughing under his breath.
“Once I have you under my mercy,” you continued, holding his gaze. “You’re gonna be fucking nothing. I promise you that.”
His hand wrapped around your neck and for a moment you thought he would kill you right there. “I can’t wait to see you try and fail miserably, I’ll enjoy that show. Might become my favorite.”
Homelander let go of his grip roughly, allowing you to breathe again.
“Fuck you,” you spat back.
He chuckled, straightening himself and walking away from your car, giving you a last glance. “Not yet, doctor. Not yet.”
Once back in the spot where he landed, he flew away and you were left alone on the road. No cars, nor people walking could be seen, but it was better that way. Forcing your hands to stop shaking, you turned the engine on again and started to drive back home. Taking your phone out, you made a call, waiting for the other line to answer. You had to act fast and track that motherfucker down, not caring if you were already regretting what you’d do next.
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“So, what’s your story?”
His question surprised you more than you could tell. After dinner nights like this were becoming a really weird habit of him talking shit about this stupid century, how things were better back then and how people got dumber with time. But you never thought Soldier Boy would insist on your past, not since the first night you ate together at the same table. You finished your glass of whisky, not sure if answering his question or not.
You shrugged. “I’m not that interesting.”
Ben drank his own liquor down before asking again. “Let me rephrase that: why do you hate Vought so much?”
“Who says I hate them?”
He studied your face for a moment. The look in your eyes told nothing, but your heart rate and your breathing was always enough for him to know you were fucking lying about it. Ben had started to think of many other things you were hiding from him. But even with all that stupid mask covering you, he wanted to have you. Countless times he tried, he wasn’t going anywhere now. Nobody could resist him, you were just another game to play and he was kind of enjoying it.
“All of you. You scream inside that you want to fuck them up,” he answered. “Believe me, I want nothing more than that.”
“Didn’t you have your own payback some months ago?”
“Yes, but you already know that from my file. I’m asking about you now.”
His intense green eyes and the grit on his words caused you to think exactly what to say. You couldn’t hide it anymore, not everything at least.
“My mom. Vought experimented on her when she was pregnant, that’s why I have powers,” you said, dry and straight to the point.
“How?”
You breathed out, closing your eyes for a moment, not believing he would force you to remember the memories you had been fighting to erase.
“She was paid a huge amount of money. And she hoped her daughter would join Vought someday; she was so wrong about that,” you gave a bittersweet chuckle. “On my eighth birthday, I finally discovered my powers. There was this huge party and a lot of my parent’s rich friends and their kids, whom I didn’t know because I had no friends, were there. And then, I just remember I got overwhelmed by all these people and the attention. I always hated that. And then, my mother couldn’t find me when it was cake time. I was in my room but she couldn’t see me there. Turned out I was invisible… It was the first and the only time I could make my clothes and my shoes disappear with me.”
Ben listened attentively, much to your surprise, as he spoke once again, locking his eyes with yours. “So your powers come from your inner wish of disappearing from your mother’s sight.”
You hummed and nodded your head. “I think that’s a great way of putting it, but yes.”
“Well, I'll take it back. They fucked your life too, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, and they’re still after you anyway.”
He scoffed. “Those fucking cocksuckers. Also, where the fuck is Grace anyway? All the CIA bullshit?” he asked, quickly changing the topic abruptly, his eyes narrowing as he demanded an answer.
“No news from her apparently, nor any agents.”
“Bullshit, your last call with her was a couple of days ago and you said nothing.”
“Why are you so invested in her? You like her?” you mocked, noticing how his resemblance switched from calm to visibly annoyed. There was no fucking way you’d tell him where she was right now.
“Y’know what I’d like? A fucking reasonable answer from you, that’d be perfect,” he snarled, and you knew he was back being stubborn and childish asking the same fucking shit all the time.
“I don’t know, but when I do I’ll tell you,” you responded after remaining silent under his angry stare.
“You’ve been saying the same shit over and over—”
“Okay, so tell me what you want. You want Homelander. Good, and then what?”
He held your stare, you noticed he was trying to keep himself down. “The kid.”
“Ryan?”
“Yes, the fucking brat.”
His hard eyes were not lying and you argued back on it.
“You can’t do that, there has to be another way.”
“Fucking tell me where it is. ‘Cause I see nothing!” he shouted, his voice booming all over the room. “That fucking pussy and his fucking team, they all had him right there. And in a second, Butcher just backed up! I could’ve done it already and we wouldn’t be here, playing dollhouse.”
Spilling the truth was no option right now. He was stupidly pissed right now. But you knew it was cruel to hunt a kid down just because his father had put him into the spotlight thanks to his powers. Ben, on the other hand, was blinded by his hatred towards Homelander, and you knew he was a man of his word. He was more than able to kill Homelander and the boy for a deal, one that was broken because of a weak moment coming from Butcher. Even for your morally gray head, killing Ryan was not an option. At least not now. You hated Homelander, but you probably understood Butcher more than you’d like to admit. Soon, you would think about a plan; where to put the kid after injecting the anti V.
“Let me give you a lead when I can,” you said.
“Tell me why should I trust you.”
“It’s your choice, honestly. Probably you shouldn’t, but I may give you something sooner or later.”
Without waiting for his response, you took the empty dishes to the sink, and Ben followed you with his eyes, taking in the softness of your exposed skin through the short summer dress. He liked the way the fabric hugged your curves and how it fell over your legs, inviting him to have a taste. Ben noticed you putting on shorts and dresses more often the last few days, and he was thankful for the hot weather to be able to see you like this. The past nights, he had jerked off with you in mind, wondering when he’d be the man to put you in place. Perhaps he just needed to try again.
He got on his feet as you talked, but none of the things coming out of your mouth were important as he put his weight behind your body, his hands roaming over your arms before you got to start washing the dirty plates.
“Do you not get tired of trying?” you breathed out.
You felt his rough hands caressing your arms, before moving down your waist, pressing your ass against the bulge growing on his pants. He smiled to himself once he heard the loud gasp coming from your mouth.
“Just tell me you haven’t thought about it,” he whispered, placing his lips down your neck, nipping softly at your sensitive skin, as he massaged your flesh, going to the curve of your ass.
“And when you get this, what?” you asked, turning around to meet his dark eyes. He was practically devouring you with his stare. You’d be lying if you didn’t find him hot, looking at you like that, as if you were the last and only meal that could end his greedy hunger.
He smiled, and whispered cockily against your lips. “You can always ask me for a second round.”
Fuck it.
You captured his lips in an impatient kiss, nibbling at his bottom lip with urgency as you tasted the whisky from his mouth, your breaths mixing and panting as he lifted you up without further effort. Ben walked towards the countertop in the middle of your kitchen, placing you on the surface as he spread your legs. You welcomed him closer, feeling his hands traveling freely under the thin fabric of your dress, feeling the softness of your legs, your inner thighs, until he rubbed over your panties. You let out a moan against his mouth when his fingers found your folds and you held tightly against the corner of the countertop.
“You’re dripping, sweetheart,” he growled, breaking the kiss.
“It’s been a while, ohfuck!”
A shiver ran down your spine as he stretched your pussy with one thick finger, his lips trailed down your neck to your collarbone, sucking and nipping on your skin. Your walls fluttered as he pumped in and out, and your hips set a move on its own. He hissed against your skin as he worked you open and ready for his hard cock, growing excitedly in his pants. A second finger slipped in and you clenched.
Ben smirked and you felt the burning feeling of his beard as he kissed your shoulder. You wondered how he’d feel between your legs, bruising your inner thighs with his big hands and the burning of his facial hair. The frantic fucking from his fingers pushed you to the edge, moaning and panting for air as his thumb played with your clit. You gripped on his forearms, looking for something to hold on tight as you reached that sweet high.
“Fuck, you did so well,” he praised, pulling his fingers out of your pussy, leaving you empty. He brought his wet fingers to your lips and you complied, opening your mouth. You licked his fingers, locking your eyes with his. “Wonder what twirls your pretty mouth has for me,” Ben pushed his fingers further, making you gag for a bit. “I’ve been thinking of hundreds of ways of finally holding your tongue with my cock.”
His other hand wrapped your neck, as he forced you to suck his fingers harder, hitting your gag reflex over and over. He discovered he loved hearing your breathy sounds and the dirty look in your eyes while you sucked his digits. When he pulled out his fingers from your mouth, you took in a deep breath, but the grip on your neck grew tighter as he pressed his forehead against yours.
“You’ll have to go down on me first if you want my mouth,” you whispered against his lips.
Ben could hear your heart racing, and he was sure you got all dizzy and bothered just by his hand. “Oh, is that so?” he rasped.
You rolled your eyes, growing impatient. “Why don’t you shut up and fuck me hard?”
And there it was. They’d always beg for him in the end. He smiled down at you, loosening the grip around your throat. “With pleasure.”
His hands wasted no time in getting rid of your dress, discarding your panties and your bra ripping them in half. You moaned when his palms groped on your tits, playing with your nipples and squeezing them harshly. God, you were getting wet again just by the feeling of his mouth biting on your soft buds. Quickly, you reached for his pants, touching his hard cock over the fabric. Ben growled, feeling the softness of your palm stroking him gently. Good choice not wearing anything underneath. Your other hand tugged at his shirt until it was discarded over the floor, his pants following after.
He got you off the countertop so your feet were on the ground, and turned you swiftly, laying you down on your chest on the cold surface. He massaged the sides of your hips, running down his palms over your ass with a hiss.
“Now this is quite a view.”
You moaned as his fingers played with your entrance. “Fuck, Ben, just do it already.”
“Shit, doll, I love when you beg.”
He stroked his cock with your juices before aligning with your pussy, slowly sliding in your wet heat. He stretched you out inch by inch, and you became a whimpering mess. After a moment of staying still balls deep in your wet core, he snapped his hips against your ass, setting a brutal pace. Loud moans and screams escaped your throat. You couldn’t hold it back anymore. You knew your fingers stopped being enough each time you needed sweet release, and probably you would regret him fucking you later, but right now you didn’t care. His fingers inside your cunt, the way he would handle your body like a feather just for his disposition and to get off with, and now his cock filling you up was becoming too much. But you loved it.
Soldier Boy felt too good inside you, fucking your brains over and over. His hands bruising your hips, groping the flesh of your ass and breasts, as he pounded into you, everything was like heaven and you were sure you’d be spent once it was over. His dark, lusty eyes memorized every inch of your body and the way your pussy engulfed his dick with each thrust. The kitchen was filled with your whimpers and his animalistic growls, mixed with the sound of his skin hitting against your own. He hit on that sweet spot repeatedly, making your walls clench around his cock.
“Jesus, you’re coming pretty quickly today,” Ben teased under his breath, his fingers tangling in your hair pulling your back against his muscular chest. “Wait for me, doll,” he whispered in your ear, satisfied on how fucked out and desperate you were underneath.
“Do it fast, you asshole! Fuck!”
Your pussy fluttered and clenched on his cock as he hit your spot again. With a loud moan, you finally reached the climax you longed for so long, and took his deep, rough thrusts as he fucked you through bliss. His name escaped your throat countless times, coming down from your high. Ben growled, your orgasm and the spasms of your cunt triggered his own, and he finally released himself inside your tight pussy.
And how good it felt to finally have you there, begging and crying for his cock. It was so much better than his own imagination, and he took in great pleasure on fucking the brat out of you. He continued bucking his hips until his white seed started leaking down your thighs, and finally stopped. The only sound in the room being your tired breaths.
“Oh, shit,” you gasped, feeling his grip on your scalp softening.
He sucked on your neck one last time with a cocky grin on his lips. “I told you I’d be a great fuck, sweetheart.”
“I wish you could shut up for once,” you answered back, looking at him from your side, and feeling his cock softening inside you. “I might have my methods.”
He bucked his hips one more time. A whimper escaped past your lips as he pulled you back against his chest in a swift motion, his fingers traced your neckline. “So do I, doll.”
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spidernuggets · 6 months
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I was listening to Matilda by Harry Styles and...
Can I ask something about the reader living in a toxic environment or having a toxic family but seeing it as normal, until she meets Jason and he makes her see that it's actually not normal?
Only if you feel comfortable writing it tho 🥲💗
Jason Todd x Fem!Reader
Note: I LOVEEE this request. It gives me the opportunity to show the little things in a toxic environment/family that are DEF mentally unhealthy, but it can be played off as, idk the word, normal, or not a big deal.
Reader's back story: Reader grew up with a family where there's always a lot of petty disagreements but always leads to being yelled at. Reader was also raised to respect others, but hypocritically, her parents don't show that same level. So when they yell at her, she doesn't say anything back, she doesn't talk back or defend herself etc etc. But the day after, her parents "apologise", Reader accepts, but the apology means fuck all because her parents always makes the same mistakes and the cycle continues.
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"Fucking hell! Can you just fucking leave me alone!" Jason yells after climbing through the fire escape. He just came back after a rough mission and is in no mood.
You ran up to him, trying to give him a hug, and at first, he lightly pushed you away, but poor you didn't get the memo and tried to give him a sweet kiss on the cheek.
Jason really didn't mean to lash out on you. During the mission, he got scolded by Dick and got punched across the jaw by Bruce. He also failed the mission anyway. And honestly, all that time wasted when he could've been in your arms instead pissed him off more.
But now that he's here with you, he doesn't seem like he's in the mood to be held by you. He just wants everything to be quiet. Except, now he's the one being loud.
"I'm sorry, Jay, I just-"
"Y/n, please, just shut up for five minutes because I don't think my head can last another second with you!" He storms away, taking an extra pillow and blanket and goes to sleep on the couch. You let him leave, knowing he'll be better in the morning.
This was the first time Jason had raised his voice to you. But it was fine.
You woke up to the feel on fingers running through your hair and light, damp kisses on your nose. You twist and turned and groaned at the feeling, wishing for more sleep.
"Wake up, sweet thing. Please?" You heard a deep, raspy voice ask.
You barely opened your eyes but made out the figure in front of you. Jason was on his knees, kneeling beside your bed with roses and your favourite candies in his hand.
"Mm.. Jay?" You groaned once more, trying to sit up while rubbing your eyes open. "Special occasion?" You groggily asked.
Jason looks at you slightly confused. "What? No.. no, I just wanted to say I'm.. I'm sorry. I acted like an asshole last night, a major asshole. Scream at me, hit me, do whatever. Please, please forgive me," he whines, looking down while presenting the gifts to you. He tenses up as you stay silent. When he looks up, your head is tilted, accompanied by a questioning look on your face. "And.. And I told Bruce that I'm taking the week off. I'll take you out on dates, wherever you want to go, I'll buy you everything you want." At this point, he'd give his soul to Trigon just for you to forgive him.
Slowly, you take the candies and roses from him. "That's really sweet, Jay.. but.. why?" Now it was Jason's turn to look at you in confusion and disbelief.
"What- What do you mean why? I was a bastard last night! I told you to shut up, I told you to leave me akone! I left you alone in bed last night!" In all realness, the moment Jason sat on the couch, he thought you indirectly broke up with him and left. He didn't expect you to be in bed. So he ran to the closest ooen shop and bought you all your favourite candies.
"Oh..." You pondered, looking at the pretty petals in your hands. "It's okay, Jay. Don't worry about it, it's fine," you smiled.
Jason frowned. You were smiling. Genuinely smiling at him. As if nothing happened. As if what he did wasn't wrong. "What? It's not- It's not fine. How can you say that?"
"Well, you're sorry, yeah? So everything is good," you try to hold your hand in his, but the contact made him flinch. It's like Jason is getting angry for you.
"No. No, everything's NOT good. Why are you acted as if I didn't just fully disrespect you last night? Why are you acting as if nothing happened? What if I yell at you like that again, huh? It wouldn't be fine!" Jason doesn't understand why you think everything is fine.
"I mean.. If you say sorry, then you're sorry," you shortly explain.
"Were you always like this?" He quietly asks, holding your hands, caressing them with his thumbs. "A lot of the times, sorry isn't enough. Why- Why do you forgive so easily?" There's a plead in Jason's eyes. Through his life, he's always done so much wrong. He always lost people. Forgiveness was a foreign thing to him. But the fact that you gave no second thought into forgiving him had him worried.
You look down in such shame. You don't really know. But then you think back to when you were a kid. Back to when you reached out to pour some juice in your cup, but then you knocked over your dad's glass of water, and it smashed all over the ground.
You were eight. You were eight when your dad started yelling at you, asking why you were incompetent. You were crying and didn't hear your dad saying you had nothing to cry over.
Later in the night, your mom went to you, telling you your dad had a rough night, and he didn't mean to take it out on you. Then your dad walked in, kneeled, and said he was sorry. He said he'd never say anything like that to you ever again. And you forgave him. Because you were eight, and you believed that he was sorry.
To this day, you still weren't sure if he was sorry. Because he always noticed the small mistakes you made and lash out on you. Your mom did this, too. But the two of them always crawled back, asking for forgiveness, telling you they didn't mean it, promising it would never happen again.
The one time you tried to defend yourself, it just ticked them off even more. So, every time they raised their voices, your own stayed silent. You'd just wait for them to take out their harsh emotions on you, and you'd just wait for them with their routine of apologies, you'd just wait for the next time they gave out to you.
Maybe you're projecting this method onto Jason. You already knew how much of a hot head he is. But you still don't know. His apology seemed more alive than your parents'.
But, still. It was the same. 'I'll never do it again.' 'I'm sorry.'
The difference was.. was Jason WANTED you to be angry with him. Maybe that's what was missing. A chance to secure yourself. A chance to fight back. A chance to respect yourself.
"I don't know.." You whisper, too tired to lift your head to look at him.
"Hey.." He gently calls out, his finger under your chin, tilting your head up. "I'm not saying forgiveness is a bad thing. But you need to be angry about certain things. About me. Not everything is sunshine and rainbows. Just because someone says they're sorry, it doesn't mean they actually are. Except for me. I'm so, so sorry. Like, if I were you right now, I'd probably dump my ass." His last statement made you giggle ever so slightly.
"There's my girl," he says, one of his hands reaching up to hold her cheek, squishing it gently. "Next time I make a dick move, be angry. Yell at me, hit me. Threaten to dump me. That'll definitely make me feel real sorry." He smiles.
You let out a chuckle, turning your face to kiss the rough palm of his hand. "Okay," you mumbke through his hold.
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Are my fics getting shorter and shorter each time? That's my worst fear.
ANYWAYS, I genuinely hope this problem makes sense!!! It's light, but as I said, it's unhealthy!!
Very very very very much hope that you've enjoyed, Anon 🙏🙏
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olderthannetfic · 1 month
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When you say "This part of fandom is extremely weird about first person", could you elaborate on that? Either about the history, or just about the contemporary things that are usually associated with first-person... Whether they're true correlations or just stereotypes.
Is first-person considered pretentious, for example? I sort of assumed for a long time that it would be.
Are there particular types of fandom that tend to have a lot of first-person writing? As in, some genre or whatever, not just "the original book was in first-person".
And it's not even particularly thought of as a self-insert thing, is it? (Rather, as JUST a self-insert thing.)
--
First person is a less common but just kind of banal choice in original writing. Many fanfic fans respond to it as such. It's overwhelmingly more common when canon is like that. Most of the rest of the first person fics I see are imitating a specific style that's normally in first—think ridiculous hardboiled private eye fics like the famous Who Knackered Aragorn's Catamite?
But in recent years, I've seen some people finding first to be a Big Deal™. It's still not common in most fandoms, as far as I can see, but people flailing about it have become more common. When this has come up before, it has become clear that there's a strain of fandom coming out of knockoffs of knockoffs of YA Boom titles, the kinds of things that are in first person present tense but don't know what to do with it.
IDK about the untagged first person fic, but the tagged stuff shows no particular pattern. There's a bunch of it in enormous fandoms that have a lot of works and that tag a lot.
--
I do find first to be a more challenging choice for your average TV fandom because those actually do have POV, but not one most viewers can easily articulate and not one that's similar to written first person that stays with one character. Bringing in this wildly different stylistic element can end up sounding like you're writing the aforementioned hardboiled detective AU even when that wasn't the intent.
Omniscient and limited third with POV switches are both pretty similar to your average TV POV, though film and written POV don't work the same way, so there isn't a one-to-one match.
If someone said the usual "I want fic that's similar to canon... or I want you to be very, very good at your craft", I would not find that remarkable. But the actual way people talk makes it sound like every baby writer in 2024 cares about Divergent. In my experience, they do not.
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iamthecomet · 8 months
Note
"I wish you would write a fic where Dewdrop is keeping Aether company during a stormy night in the infirmary and maybe helps him welcome a new life on earth"
The second I saw this one I knew I needed to write it. Sorry it took me so long. 2k (I got carried away, I'm SORRY) of Dewther fluff, and slice of life intimacy. No smut, not even a hint of it. Non-graphic scene of a sibling having a very normal and healthy birth (it's pretty glossed over, but it does happen and Dew and Aeth are in the room). Dew being good in a pinch. Dew's immaculate bedside manner (not sarcasm). Aether and Dew being so fucking in love it's sickening. This one is all sweet guys, I don't know what to tell you.
Dew hasn’t left Aether’s side since the tour ended. He stepped off the bus and glued himself to the bigger ghoul. Pressing his face into Aether’s broad chest and inhaling deep. Tucking himself under his arm and letting Aether lead him back into the Abbey. Held close. 
That was a couple weeks ago. Dew isn’t quite as physically attached as he was for the first few days–but he’s still always in sight or earshot. Dragging Aether into his bed every night, wrapping himself around him. They shower together, and if they don’t–Dew isn’t far. Sitting in the adjoining bedroom with a book. One eye on the bathroom door–cracked just enough. 
Chores haven’t started back up for the band ghouls yet. They’re on a break. So Dew takes the opportunity to follow Aether everywhere. Not that Aether minds. He’s not used to having a little shadow–but it’s kind of nice. Nice to be able to turn and talk to Dew when he wants. Nice to not spend long, endless, nights in the infirmary alone and in silence anymore. The abbey feels full again. And Dew is here, and warm, and always present.
Most nights, Dew sits himself at the nurse station while Aether makes his rounds. He fucks around on his phone, or reads a book, or flirts with whatever sibling drew the short straw and got stuck with the night shift. Aether watches him as he moves from room to room. Their eyes meeting over dimly lit hallways.  Lips quirking up as they see each other. Still here. Within touching distance. 
Tonight, Dew’s alone at the nurses desk. There’s a blizzard raging outside and Aether’s usual sibling had called in sick. Probably not really sick. Just reluctant to uncurl from a nice warm bed on a very stormy night. Aether doesn’t mind. Night shifts tend to be boring anyway. Emergencies are rare, and most of their beds now are filled with humans suffering from the flu or some resperatory thing that’s been going around. Both viruses unable to make the jump from human to ghoul, so Dew, unlike the human that was supposed to be here, is safe. His bedside manner leaves a little to be desired. But Aether doesn’t really care about that. All he needs is someone to put pills in cups and measure medicine and hand him something when he’s asked. 
Dew does all of it without complaint. He’s more squeamish than Aether. Proclaiming, without any sort of filter, that he isn’t going to empty any bedpans, Aeth. That’s fucking gross.
Aether doesn’t have the heart to tell him that there aren’t any bedpans in play right now. It’s quiet now–rounds are done. Dew’s settled in behind the nurses station with a book. Booted feet propped up on the desk, leaning just a little too far back in the chair. Aether watches him–can’t help it. Eyes drawn to the way Dew’s lips move a little as he reads, the way they always do when he’s fully engrossed. 
Aether watches the little furrow appear between his brow. He’ll smooth it away with his thumb later, when he finally gets out of here and takes Dew to bed. Pulling that overwarm body against his and pressing his cool fingers to all of the places Dew finds stuck. A clenched jaw, a creased brow, tense shoulders. 
Aether stands at the end of the infirmary hallway and watches him turn page after page. He should do something else. His job isn’t to watch Dewdrop. The abbey counts on him, needs him. His work is important. But he hasn’t been able to do this for months. And Dew has been attentive ever since he got home. Always aware, always watching–the way Aether is now. Cataloging all the little things about him that he missed. 
Dew turns the page again and looks up, meeting Aether’s eyes. Aether can’t hear his chuckle for the distance and the noise of a thousand medical machines around him but he sees it, and the eyeroll that accompanies it. 
“What?” Dew asks, loud enough to be heard but still classifying as a whisper. 
“Nothing.” 
“Doesn’t look like nothing.” 
“Can’t a guy just look?” 
He expects another smartass remark, but what he gets is a little more color on Dew’s cheeks, another eye roll. Eyes darting back down into the book to avoid really looking at Aether–to avoid having to admit that he likes it when Aether looks. 
Aether turns back to his job–spell not broken just interrupted. He stands in front of the big window that overlooks the wide back yard of the abbey and looks out as he counts pills into paper cups labeled with names and times.  The hill that slopes down to the lake. The forest at the far edge. If it was light out he’d be able to see the ridge of Mountain’s favorite greenhouse, and the maze even further off. As it is–all he sees is white. The snow falling in big fluffy flakes–faster than seems possible. Piling high on the grass. Burying the abbey under a blanket of white they won’t be free of until late spring. 
Their easy calm is broken when the infirmary door slams open. Two harried looking siblings burst in, one of them heavily pregnant. There’s sweat beading on her forehead–her habit gone, or forgotten. Auburn hair sticking to her skin in damp clumps. The other sibling holds onto her, supports her weight as best they can as they rush into the infirmary and right up to the nurses desk and a stunned Dewdrop. 
Dew puts his book down. “Uh–Aeth?” 
Aether is already there, coming up behind them to slot against the sister’s other side. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes wild and pain filled. He knows this sister–she’s been coming to him for all of her check-ups throughout her pregnancy, no issues, entirely healthy. And, Aether calculates a week early. Nothing to worry about. He puts his hand on the small of her back. 
“How far apart, Isla?”
“Five minutes just like you said,” Isla winces as another contraction hits and she bares down on the nurses station. Dew looks ready to flee. Eyes darting between Aether and the two siblings. 
“Good,” Aether says, calm, low. He pulls Isla and her friend away from the nurses desk and leads them into a room just off of it–empty and freshly cleaned. He gives Isla instructions to change into a hospital gown, and leaves her in her friend’s capable hands while he darts back into the main lobby. Dew’s got his book in his hand again–and his coat slung over his arm. 
“I’ll be in my room when you’re done–”
“I need your help,” Aether says without argument. Gathering things he needs from the nurses station by the arm full. He’s delivered plenty of babies alone–but it’s ill advised. And Dew is right here–he’s not getting out of this. 
“Oh hell no, this is way above my pay grade.” 
“There is no pay grade. Put on some gloves and help me,” Aether pauses, fully looks at Dew. There’s fear in his dilated pupils, in the rushed shallow breaths expanding his chest. Aether pins him with his gaze–allows himself this moment. “Please.” 
Dew sighs, he grimaces. Uncomfortable but unable to say no to Aether–not when he really does need him. He tosses his book down on the desk. “Promise I’m not going to like, accidentally kill a baby or something?” 
“You will not be going anywhere near any babies.” Aether promises, and Dew groans, but snaps on a pair of gloves and follows Aether into the room. Trailing behind him nervously. Isla is on the bed when they get there. Her friend, who introduces themself as Rae, standing up by her head. Their hand carding over Isla’s forehead, brushing sweaty hair away from her temples. Their fingers are laced together. 
Aether talks them through everything he does. Every touch, every movement. It’s as for Isla and Rae as it is for Dew who is still radiationg panic despite having pulled himself together enough that the humans in the room don’t notice. 
Dew, contrary to his own beliefs about hismelf, is good under pressure. Aether won’t tell him this–not yet anyway–but there is no one else he’d rather have with him. Not even the siblings who have training are as level-headed as he is when he needs to be. 
When Aether asks for something, it’s in his hand before the word is all the way out of his mouth. Dew’s warm fingers brushing his. 
As most birth’s go–it’s an arduous process. The snow piles up outside. Isla’s contractions get closer and closer together. Hours pass. Dew gets his shit together. He follows Aether’s orders. Not nearly as squeamish as he pretends to be. Keeping a close eye on Isla’s process as Aether flits around for IV’s and blood pressure machines, and a thousand other things. 
“I don’t know if I can do this,” Isla says late in the game–minutes before Aether is going to tell her to start pushing. He’s exhausted his back hurts. Rae consoles her, pets her hair and tells her that of course she can. She shakes her head, vehement. 
“No. I can’t. I can’t be a mom. What am I doing?” 
Aether opens his mouth, not sure what’s going to come out, trying to find the right words despite his exhaustion. Dew places a warm hand on Isla’s knee and cuts him off. 
“Sure you can,” Dew says, soft, sure. “You’re doing this. This is fucking brutal. Being a mom can’t be worse than this.” 
And though Aether knows that isn’t true–Dew probably does too–it seems to take some of the edge off. Maybe just from the surprise of Dew actually butting in. But Isla looks at him, pain morphing her face, she laughs, bitter and relieved at the same time. 
“Yeah. This does suck a lot.” 
“See,” Dew squeezes her knee. “Just a few more minutes and this part will be over and then it’s the good part. You’ve got this. No backing out now.” 
Aether doesn’t know where those words come from. Dew who hates all children–ghoul and human alike. Who a few hours ago was about to tuck tail and run–to be out of Aether’s sight line for the first time in weeks just because this was about to happen near him. Saying shit like this? Encouragement? Enthusiasm. 
Determination settles over Isla’s face, she nods at Dew once. Sharp. And then turns her eyes to Aether. “I’m ready to get to the good part.” 
It’s quick after that. And before long Aether is handing Isla a screaming baby. It’s another hour before he can take a small break. The baby cleaned and swaddled, snuggled up with it’s mother. Rae resting fitfully in the chair while Isla stares at her baby. Aether leaves them to it and walks out into the lobby to find the sun rising. Pink hues casting over the floor. Blizzard over. The world outside the windows snow bright and fresh. He finds Dew at the nurses station, book in hand again, nose firmly in it. Brow creased. 
Aether kisses him right between where his horns would be and Dew looks up and over at him. Looking exhausted. Eyes fighting to stay open.
 “Hey,” he rasps, saving his place in the book and setting it on the desk. Aether brushes an errand strand of hair behind Dew’s ear. 
“Go back to your room. I’ll meet you there as soon as I switch with Omega.” 
Dew shakes his head. He leans his head against Aether’s bicep. “I’m good. I’ll wait.” 
“You’re going to have to detach from me at some point you know?” 
“Yeah. But not yet,” Dew shrugs. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” 
“Leech.” 
“Mmhm,” Dew nods. Eyes fluttering as he leans into Aether’s body. They’re quiet for a moment, the quiet only broken by a ragged cough from a room down the hall. 
“Thanks for staying–for helping,” Aether says softly. “I know that isn’t your thing but you really–”
“It wasn’t that bad.” 
“You going to tell me where all that sappy shit in there came from?” Aether teases, then sobers. “You were incredible, really.” 
Dew tips his head and opens his eyes, looking up at Aether with adoration that threatens to knock the breath from his lungs. He shrugs. “I mean. Just kind of thought of it like tour. Get the hard part over with. Get to the good part.” 
“This is the good part?” Aether cocks an eyebrow.  “You’re the good part.”
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