#i have such a soft spot for them actually

[metranart]

Imagine Geto and Gojo like your glorified bullies. They have had their eyes on you ever since they saw you. No one actually believed them to be bullies, sure they are arrogant and a bit mean but still, they are the golden duo of the Campus, loved and adored by everyone… but secretly obsessed with you, so but SO obsessed that their innocent teasing, playful at most, in time became more physical….

"Eyes on me, pretty," Geto grunts and swears and sweats and CAN'T seem to look away when he guides you down and kiss the tip of his cock, your tongue licking the roundness of the head like a lollipop, all in hope that this one-night stand will manage to dissuade this devilish duo from continuing to harass you, make them have their fill and be done with you. 

Geto watches you closely, breaths coming out labored and heavy. Your pretty eyes finally locking with his lovesick stare, orbs full of a sick devotion he refuses to give to anyone else, only perhaps to Satoru, who right now can’t help but chuckle amused at the love-stricken look Geto has on his face, not realizing he has the same damn look right at that moment.

"Dammit! you’ll be my end, I just know it,” the raven-haired heaves way too reverently before he realizes how vulnerable you are making him look and immediately, tries to keep face in front of a giggling Satoru. “Told ya, this little cunt can easily take us both.” 

Geto's hand comes to rest on your hair a little meaner, pushing you down and making you choke on his fat cock, but—… allowing you to control the speed with which you suck him off. Dammit! he just can’t control that soft spot he has for you.

Gojo snickers and rolls his eyes, shaking his head lightly at the devastating effect your mere existence has in his bestie… and in him, if he’s being honest. 

"Don't hog her, Suguru-"  

You blearily stare back into Satoru Gojo’s pouting grimace and he looks more frustrated than amused this time, you could laugh at how pathetic he looks if your mouth wasn't being used to make his best friend cum. Your drooling lips dragging over Suguru's throbbing cock, you can only try to follow his thrusting hips in order to protect the fragile, frayed strands of your sanity.

“You said you w-wanted….” Suguru has to concentrate to form logical sentences, “her s-sweet pussy first-…” he chokes a little when the tip touches the back of your throat but recovers the best he can, “then have-have her sweet p-pussy first, dumbass.”

You just ignore their little quarrel, just nibbling the sides of Geto's cock before he´s making you go down on him with a little more force, taking him whole in one go. Gojo lets his growing twinge of jealousy guide his next actions and with a mischievous grin, varnishes his lips in saliva, making sure are nice and slick to lick a fat and wet trip on your quivering slit.

You yelp at the unexpectedness and Geto shushes you, a benevolent expression on his face. 

"Just concentrate on sucking my cock," he hums and noticing your struggle, adds, "breath through your nose, pretty, nice and easy... just listen to my voice, sweetness." 

Eventually you do as he says, taking more of Geto in your mouth. "That's right, that's a good girl.” The raven-haired praises unable to hide anymore how much he wants you for himself. How much he wants to devote his life to you… and maybe, Satoru as well. If you can handle both, he'll take it... if you only want him, he'll take it faster.

Gojo's pathetic shriek tells Geto that he manages to slip in your tightness and your bouncing hips on his cock make him moan, appreciatively. 

Gojo's powerful hips colliding with your bruised ass cheeks without an inch of restraint is making sucking Geto off, sloppier and dirtier, and somehow, making him love it even more. Making him more verbal and prompter to show his more vulnerable side.

You knew that from the two, Geto was the machiavellian mind behind every act of bullying against you, but right now… this man, this weak mass of hormones, broken groans and trembling thighs under your hands were also showing a disarmingly sweet and unexpected, side of him. Something intimate and utterly private.

"Am I being too rough? Are you comfortable?" His rambling started all of the sudden and kept coming… "You want it deeper, should Gojo speed up or slow down..." "You're so beautiful. Ask us for ANYTHING, we'll put Tokyo at your feet... be our princess." "Shit! If you keep sounding so incredibly adorable, I'm going to cum... I don't want to cum yet-" "No, don't stop, let me hear you... I was just thinking out loud, I love the way our name sounds in your voice. Oh baby! You're going to be my downfall, please... be my downfall!

“OUR downfall!” 

Gojo corrects and the two men lock eyes. His cock stills inside you and your body tenses. There’s a heavy silence before Geto nods in agreement, the easygoing grin back on his lips. 

"Sorry. It slipped out. Our girl," he shifts his dark gaze to your reddened face and his eyes soften again. "You knew we bullied you because we like you, don’cha? I know you knew it-” 

You didn’t. You actually don't want to believe that to be the reason, that reason gives you more chills than the fact that they only saw you as a passing victim. This new information makes you make him cum faster, it slips down your chin and neck at how heavy it is, and you hear him chuckle breathlessly, as one of his hands pet your head, way too gently. 

"Y-You just wanted to keep us on the edge of our seats, y-you wanted to torture us, I just know it, kitten... well, you did well... we're crazy-crazy about you.”

You freeze, don’t knowing how to react, so you don’t… and they notice.

Soon Gojo finishes too, and a loop begins, one after another after another… like trying to brand you from the inside out, they need to seize their chance. Satoru’s strong but gentle fingers keep you effectively anchored to his groin, as he only hums appreciatively in response to your adorable, pathetic moans as both keep feeding those glorious pieces of meat to your conquered holes. 

“You, letting me rut into your softness and enduring our frenzy with such grace has undoubtedly been the best thing of my damn year, pretty." Satoru finally confesses, leaving his tough guy facade aside. Both their masks are off for good now.

Suguru Geto chuckles at his confession, you make them so desperate, so desperate to hear something more than moans mumbled brokenly from your lips, they want to hear you say that you accept all their proposals and future plans, that you are their girlfriend, their future wife, the future mother of their child… he wants to hear that you are HIS… Theirs, he means, theirs. 

But you don’t and that irks and burns deeper than expected and makes them have to go back to their nasty and reprovable behavior. Unfortunately for you, they just run out of patience.

“Y’know,” Suguru starts conversationally, disturbingly stretched grin and unfaltering obsidian gaze betraying his previous gentle approach and innocently whispered proclamations of love. “I REALLY like this pussy… I think we’ll keep it.”

You hear Satoru laugh, and for the first time, you can glimpse your mistake. This wasn’t a night one stand, their greed for you is bottomless, your foolish attempt to tame them, failed and now they look greedier than EVER.

➡️ 👀 Sneak Peek Artwork HERE

🔞➡️ FULL NSFW ART of this drabble HERE

[honey-tongued-devil]

HEYY

i saw the vi x chubby user and as a chubby girl I NEED more of the girlies x chubby user. please 🙀

[Arcane preference (girlies)] with a chubby s/o

I made you wait so long for nothing, I’m sorry if it’s short, BUT I haven’t forgotten about you!

Jinx:

- Forget that thing called “personal space.”

- If you want to sleep with her, you’ll be the little spoon, and she’ll even throw herself on top of you. She loves feeling human warmth, and with a partner with more body mass, it’s not painful to stay in a long embrace because no (or almost no) bones are attacking her.

- She pinches your love handles and thighs, then bursts out laughing. It's done with tenderness, she loves it to bits, and it’s something extremely rare in Zaun.

- If you can't find anything your size, she'll sew it for you from leftover fabric, or by beating up a passerby to steal their clothes. Either way, you don’t have to worry.

- If you even try to say the words "lose weight," she’ll furrow her brow, deeply offended: you’re hers, and if you lose mass, she has less of you for herself, which means you’re trying to take something from her.

- Which means for the following week, she’ll do everything to make you eat more, terrified that you might lose weight.

Vi:

- What’s the point of being so strong if not to lift you into her arms effortlessly?

- She makes you stay on her back while doing push-ups, carries you to the bedroom, and holds you on her lap on the couch.

- She’s a fighter, not a coward. If she can’t lift you, it’s not that you weigh too much, but that she’s too weak. And within three days, she’ll make sure she fixes this shortcoming.

- But it never actually happens. Vi never misses an opportunity to show you how strong she is and how special you are.

- When you talk under the blankets, she often loses herself playing with your soft spots, almost as if she’s relaxing.

Caytlin:

- She sits on your lap, but if you want, you can sit on her without any issues.

- She loves your body to bits, and if you try to hide it, she might put on a little show just to take off your shirt and enjoy what you were hiding, like your belly.

- Clothes aren’t a problem; she’ll have them made so that they not only fit you but also highlight your best features.

- No jokes here—when you go out together, she wants the world to see how proud she is of her partner and how attractive they are. So, she takes care of your preparation herself, even stealing a kiss here and there, but letting you choose what you want to wear.

Mel:

- She has a personal tailor who makes coordinated outfits for every occasion. She can’t let you look bad, and she wouldn’t want to, so she personally ensures every detail reflects you.

- She knows what you like and dislike, so she can correct the sketches herself, so when the clothes arrive, they’ll be a complete surprise.

- When you're in public, she likes to sit on your lap, if the occasion is casual enough to allow it. Otherwise, she’ll leave subtle lipstick marks on you before leaving, just enough to discreetly remind people you’re with her.

- She likes being the little spoon, feeling protected and vulnerable at least in one place, even though, subconsciously, she changes position while she sleeps. But in any case, feeling your softness against her gives her comfort.

Sevika:

- Think you’re big? Be more humble.

- She lifts you like you’re a little bunny, carries you around on her shoulder, takes you to bed in her arms, and constantly pulls you onto her lap, always keeping one hand on your waist.

- She loves skin-to-skin contact, and she’s strong enough to lift you completely onto her shoulders, with your back against the wall, and hold you like that until her ‘hunger’ passes (or until you can’t take it anymore).

- She’s still terrified of hurting you, so she always keeps you on the side of her good arm, so she doesn’t damage your body with her prosthetic limb.

- When you’re resting, she pulls you completely up onto her, no matter how tall or heavy you are, constantly reminding you that she’s big and strong enough.

[booklover223]

Bloody fucking hell. It was just his luck that he ran into a dead kid and was bestowed the misfortune to inform said dead kid that he was, in fact, dead. The universe hated him. John thought sourly as he tried to think of a way to explain to the kid he was dead.

Most people (batsy and his colony) thought he was too crass to work with kids and while it was true sometimes depending on the kid he actually liked kids, held a soft spot for them especially if they were dinguses, like the one in front of him.

“Kid,” he started before he sighed and rubbed his chin. “I’m sorry to tell you this kid but, you’re dead. You’ve died. What year do you think it is?” He asked gently watching the ghost. The white haired kid blinked before tilting his head. “It’s April 1, 2004. I’m not dumb,” he rolled his eyes body slightly following the motion. “I know it’s April fools day trench coat man you won’t fool me! And I’ve never seen you around town before! STRANGER DANGER!” The kid shouted before running off. John sighed as he grabbed his phone to let the scary bat know the case became complicated and he would need a hotel booked so he can help this kid cross over. Unbeknownst to Constantine, Danny was having a laugh with Sam and Tucker about the sad trench coat man that he just pranked. He may have said the wrong year purposefully but it still was April 1.

Constantine coming across Danny for the first time: Kid, are you aware that you’re dead?

Danny, about to play the greatest prank: I’m what? D:

[lnfours]

i feel like youre the only one who could understand my thoughts rn, hear me out: uni student who is having a hard time being motivated and is justt feeling overall down about school and such. THEN, lando comfort, just being there and being so comforting (this is not at all inspired by my life or anything...truth, ive been having such a shit week and i just know that this week is going to be bad too and i really need comfort, but am lacking in the friend/boyfriend department and my phone calls with my mom are simply not doing it for me anymore. okay enough with the venting.)

i definitely, 100% understand your situation. school is stressful and hard, especially when you’re feeling unmotivated. remember to give yourself breaks as needed, and my messages are always open if you need anything ❤️

‘feeling 22’ birthday sleepover

the sound of the front door opening sounded through the apartment before his voice did, "hey, baby."

you looked up from your laptop, smiling softly at him from the spot on the couch that you had realized you'd been at all day. the sun was beginning to set, peaking in through the curtains in the living room. he walked up behind the couch, wrapping his arms around you, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"it's five already?" you asked, glancing up at the time in the corner of your screen. sure enough, it was a little after five. you had quite literally been working on this final project all day.

he hummed, resting his head on top of yours, "mmhm," his nose absentmindedly nuzzled into the hair ontop of your head, taking in the smell of your shampoo, "have you been working on this all day?"

you nodded, sighing before pulling off your glasses, rubbing your eyes, "yeah and i feel like i've barely made a dent in it. i feel like no matter what i put, my professor isn't going to be impressed."

"he'd be an idiot not to be impressed with anything you do."

"yeah, but it needs to be perfect if i want to land that internship," you said, "and it's nowhere near perfect. no matter how hard i work i feel like it's not good enough and i just... i don't know what to do."

"take a break, baby," he said, "you've been at this all day. rest the rest of the night and have another go at it tomorrow or the next day. little by little."

you knew he had a point, but you sat there defeated as you tried to get yourself to close your laptop, "okay, yeah, just let me read it over one last time and then i'll be done for the night."

he nodded, "okay, just once though," he said, standing up again, "i have an idea, actually. i'll be right back,"

you nodded, letting him venture down the hallway and into your bedroom. he made quick work with his actions, gathering candles from your bedroom before placing them on the bathroom counter and lighting them. he started the faucet for the bath, making it the temperature he knew you liked before adding some of your body wash to the water.

once it was set up to his liking, he made his way back to the living room and you were still invested in the project on your laptop. he stood in front of you. gently closing the lid, which made you stop reading as you let out a soft sigh of defeat. there was no getting around it with him.

"c'mon," he smiled softly, reaching out and offering his hand for you to take. you placed your hand in his, rising from the couch as he led you down the hallway and to your bedroom.

"what're you up to?"

"nothing in particular," he smiled, and when you saw the bathroom you immediately almost broke down into tears. the candles dimly lit the room and a bath was drawn.

"lando," you gasped softly, his thoughtfulness making your heart flutter against your chest and reminding you why you fell in love with him in the first place.

he smiled, "you relax, i'll order us some food. how's that sound?"

you nodded as wrapped your arms around his neck, "have i ever told you how much i love you?"

he smiled, "once or twice, i can't quite put my finger on it though."

you laughed softly, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, "i love you."

"i love you more," he smiled.

you nodded in the direction of the tub, "how about you join me and then we order dinner?"

"i like the way you think."

[adelliet]

Wolverine x f!reader

SILENT HUNT

Summary: You are running from the FBI, spending days hiding and surviving until you meet a man who helped you and saved your life.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, corn with plot, soft Logan, harassment, age gap (reader in 20s Logan in his 30s), reader is much smaller than Logan, mentions of trauma, hunting animals, light fingering, oral (f!receiving), nicknames (sweetie, princess), unprotected sex ( p i v ), aftercare, praise kink, good~sweet ending

A/n: Hey so um I didn't expect it to be so long 0-0 sorry for that…but I hope you're gonna like it (I'm going insane over this man help)

,,She ran this way!” You heard one of the cops shouting. You knew they were up your ass. Despite your speed, sooner or later they will catch up. You couldn't allow that.

You quickly tried to analyze the environment around you and when your eyes spotted a thick bush, you took advantage of it and quickly hid behind it. You couldn't hide here forever, but you wanted to gain some time to think. Terrified, you looked around, desperately trying to find a place where you could hide longer.

"Where did she go?!" You recognized the bitter male voice. It belonged to one of them, actually to the main guy who destroyed you. Who used you and turned you into the monster you are now. He took away your rights, your dignity, your life. He didn't care that he could've killed you. You were just a lab rat to him who had beneficially succeeded his experiment.

Just his tone made your heart rate rise, your claws were pressing against your knuckles, struggling to break through. You concentrate all your nerves for stopping the mutant DNA inside you bubble to the surface. The rage and hatred for the man was incalculable, but you couldn't attack him. At least, not right now. You just had to wait quietly for him and his entire team to leave.

"Fuck! Find her or I'll cut your throat!" he shouted angrily. Then you heard vehicles and thousands of footsteps finally fading away from you. You were holding your breath the whole time, finally relieving yourself and carefully climbed out from the bush. You did have a clear air, for now. Time was precious at the moment and you decided to use it well. That's why the moment you left your previous hiding spot, you ran after your goal.

Any shack, abandoned building or cabin would be ideal. Well, your wish was granted. You hadn't been running for long before you saw a small wooden cabin in the distance. Your eyes lit up, excited smile forming on your face. There was still a hope.

Running to the door, you weren't even going to waste time knocking. You rush inside and close the door by leaning against it. You throw your head back, trying to calm your breathing, before opening your eyes again.

You were quite surprised. The furniture and everything in the cabin looked exceedingly good. As if someone lived here. You barely took two steps forward and were about to continue exploring, but you were stopped by sharp objects lightly touching your back. "Who are you and what do you want" a rough male voice made your breath stuck in your throat, goosebumps rose all over your body.

You started shaking and you knew if you won't speak asap, you are dead. But your ability to talk was quite interrupted by those really sharp objects pressing on your back. Yet you inhale deeply and tried to answer calmly.

"I need to hide from the FBI..." there was a moment of silence. "They want me" "Why?" You could still feel the knives touching your back, keeping you in a position where you couldn't do anything but answer. "They want my DNA..." again there was a silent pause until the man finally set you free, so you could finally turn around and see his face.

Your eyes widened. You didn't expect this. It was pretty tall man, at least 6 feet tall. You admired his beard and hair, which created a strange illusion of a wild animal. His hands were huge, not only his biceps but also his palms. When he sees your face, his eyes soften. He did not expect this either.

"Why they want your DNA?" he asked with confusion in his voice. Before you manage to say anything, you hear vehicles outside the cabin. Your instincts immediately got the better of you and claws came out of your knuckles in self-defense. Logan pulled back in surprise and looked at you with raised eyebrow.

He had so many questions but this wasn't the time to ask. He knew that. He smelled your fear and saw your terrified eyes, you've been through a lot. Besides, you didn't look like someone who wanted to hurt him. "Go, hide under the bed in that room" he pointed to one of the doors and you wasted no time.

You did as he told you so and waited, your pulse raising again. "Wait until I tell you" he whispered before he closed the door. No sooner had he closed it, than they aggressively knocked with the words "FBI open the door or we break in!”

Your mind was filled with million scenarios and they weren't in a positive light. What if they find you? What if you get caught and you never see day light again? What if they try more experiments on you until you suffer to death? What if they kill you as soon as they see you? These questions spawned in your head as you tried to control your breathing.

"Hello gentlemen, how can I help you?"

"Have you seen this girl?" you quietly listened to their conversation expectantly. "No, why is she missing or someth-" 

"That's none of your bussines sir, just answer honestly. Have you seen this girl running through here?" you heard rich laugh as you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "Are you for real? I haven't seen a single soul in here for couple of years..." your breathing and heart raise was slowly going back to normal speed and rhythm. "Okay, let us check the cabin and we can leave" fuck. Just when you though you won…

“I told you I haven't seen her-" "We have the right to come in sir, now stand back or force will come" You could feel beads of sweat rolling down your forehead. You're done. You weren't ready for it but you had no choice. At least you tried. Hope dies last, how they say…

You quietly awaited your fate and listened to the slow stomping around the cabin. There were only a few seconds left before they will enter the room where you were hiding. "Sir I told you I haven't seen that girl!" that wolf-looking guy kept trying to save you and chase them away before they find you. It was pointless. Not only did they not listen to him, but they just accelerated the search.

There it is.

All that running, all that hiding and all that starving was for nothing. Everything led to only one result, which will now be fulfilled.

The hair on your arms stood on end when you heard a loud creaking of the door. You held your breath as you watched the massive black boots move eerily slowly around the room. Then you heard more faster footsteps, before seeing shoes. They were different, so you recognized that this was your salvation.

"I don't know what you're looking for in here. I've told you several times that I've never seen that girl!" you watched the shoes of both men with frightened eyes. There was a silence for a moment, before you heard the transmitter switch on. "All clear" a weight lift off your heart when you heard those words. You waited still, as you were told to do so.

“Alright, you can come out now” you literally jumped out from under the bed and were completely changed. The scared expression turned to excited and your eyes shone like never before. You felt incredible relief, but mostly you were grateful.

"Thank you so much!" he just nodded and checked you up and down before going somewhere else. You followed him, curious what will happen next.

"So now you're going to tell me why they want your DNA?" he raised his eyebrow as he poured rum into the glass. You watched him for a while, observing his large, big, massive hands until you caught yourself. You cleared your throat akwardly.

“I'm…a successful lab experiment” his face expression still didn't change, letting you know he wanted more. "I was born as a normal person, but these guys took me from my parents and used me as their lab rat. They tried to give me DNA from some mutant" he listened carefully, being very interested in your speech. "The chance of me dying was over 90%, but I survived even with mutant genes. They want to know how it's possible. That's why they want me"

You look down, remembering all the traumatic experiences from the lab. "I know what it's like" You look up at him. "I've been…lab rat too" he looked thoughtfully at his hand before sharp claws came out from his knuckles. You gasped quietly, before squeezing your eyes. "You are Wolverine!" you said in disbelief. He looks at you with furrowed brows. "Am I that famous?" you scoffed and shook your head. "They talked about you a lot in the lab. You were...their insiration"

"Well that isn't that something I should be proud of huh?" he chuckled, joking sarcastically but he had a point. You watched his claws. They were much bigger, sharper than yours. "Adamantium" he got your attention again, watching his claws. "Unbreakable metal. I have it instead of my bones" he slid them back in and looked at your face to finally see your reaction.

"Really? That must've hurt..." "Like hell" he agreed and took a sip. He held out the glass to you. It took you a moment to understand what he wanted. "Oh no thank you, I don't drink" you shake your hand and suck your lips into a thin line. "Good girl" he nodded and instead of placing the glass on the counter, he drank it to the bottom and only then put it down.

"But you also have…these don't you?" he asked you and you nodded. "Yeah but my bones are not made from that metal, only these" you also wanted to flex so you took your claws out. There were only two sharp ones on one hand, but they were enough.

"I see..." he poured another shot of rum into his glass and drank it immediately. You were starting to worry about his livers. "I'm Logan by the way" you smiled, introducing yourself too. He repeated your name to himself, smiling at the way those letters tickle his tongue.

"What about your family, where are they now?" your smile dropped immediately and you looked down again. “I don't know” you whispered darkly, hoping, praying that they are still alive. Logan realized that this was probably an inappropriate question and instantly began to act.

"Anyway, are you hungry?" he opened a fridge and looked around there. Of course you were hungry. You were starving. You couldn't remember the last time you had normal meat, vegetables or fruit. Practically any normal food.

You didn't want to sound annoying tho, but before you could say no, Logan was already taking spaghetti out of the fridge. “These are leftovers from yesterday…I can make more if you want” you wanted to refuse the offer, but the longer you watched and smelled the aromatic smell of meat and tomatoes, saliva started pooling in your mouth. Your stomach rumbled and that was a sign that you had to accept Logan's food.

"Here" he handed you a fork which you quickly grab and started eating like an animal. Logan was surprised, he watched you with raised eyebrows but later, he understood. He was glad he could help you. A warm grin began to form on his face so he quickly looked away and pretended to be busy with something, while he kept an eye on you and checking when you are finished. It wasn't even ten minutes and your plate was empty. Completely empty.

After you wiped your lips and calmed your beast inside you a bit, you thanked and gave Logan a grateful puppy eyes. He smiled a bit and nodded. "Do you want more?" you shake your head even though you wouldn't mind extra portion.

There was an awkward silence for a while. Neither of you knew what to talk about, however both of you were thinking the exact same thing. What will happen next? Will Logan let you stay here or will he kick you out? You were so desperately curious, but too scared to ask.

You decided to use reverse psychology. "I should get going" Logan jerked his head and frowned. "Have you lost your mind?" you look up at him, eyes big and sparkling. "You can't leave, definitely not now" and your trick worked. Your heart warmed when Logan let you stay. He was the first person in a long time to be kind to you. You valued him immensely.

The evening came. You were so tired and looking forward to wrapping yourself in the covers and falling asleep. Logan let you sleep in his bed while he slept on the couch. It must've been really uncomfortable, but he wanted to give you some space.

You evoked something in him that no one had been able to do for a long time. Compassion. You both have a pretty similar past and you've been through hard times, why should he be mean to you? Plus, you looked so innocent, so soft and beautiful. Oh you are beautiful.

The moment you turned around and your eyes met, it was as if time stood still. He felt his heart race, yet everything around him faded into silence. Your gaze held him captive, soft yet intense, as though you could see through every layer of him.

You seemed both familiar and mysterious, like a dream he wanted to keep reliving. And your eyes, there was something about them. So bright, yet with a hidden depth, as if they held secrets you weren't ready to share. Just looking into them left him breathless, his thoughts scattering with each heartbeat.

As he lay on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Of course, it was only natural that you’d occupy his thoughts; after all, you were a new event in his life. But this was different. He wasn’t just thinking about you in any ordinary way. His thoughts lingered on you in a way that maybe he shouldn’t have allowed.

There was a heat in his chest, a longing he couldn’t shake off. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have you near in a way that went beyond the boundaries of mere thoughts. The thought of you, of the way you made him feel, ignited something inside of him…a desire, a craving, that he wasn’t sure how to control.

You weren't much better of.

You could feel it, the connection between you, like an invisible thread tugging at your heart, pulling your thoughts to him. As you lay beneath the blankets, you couldn’t escape the images of him. His face, rugged and intense. His hair, wild and untamed, like the ears of a wolf, a perfect reflection of his untouchable, yet undeniable nature. You could almost smell the mix of rum and cigarettes that clung to him, that scent that was both comforting and dangerously alluring.

But it was his hands, those massive hands, that lingered in your mind the most. They were like a sign of safety, as if Logan could protect you from the world. Even now, surrounded by the softness of the sheets, you couldn’t escape the heat Logan left behind, the longing that burned inside you.

You couldn’t sleep. Your mind was too consumed with thoughts of Logan. Every time you closed your eyes, his face was there, vivid in your mind. His intense gaze, the roughness of his voice, the way he moved. It was as if he was everywhere, and you couldn’t escape him, no matter how hard you tried.

You tossed and turned, the sheets tangled around you, but no matter what, sleep didn’t come. It was like your body and mind were in conflict. You were exhausted, but the thought of him wouldn’t let you rest.

Finally, as the hours passed, your thoughts began to blur, the constant tug of his presence softening. Slowly, your breathing slowed, and the weight of the day caught up with you. The last thing you remember was the faintest image of him lingering in your mind before sleep finally claimed you.

You woke with a start, gasping for air, your body drenched in sweat. Your heart raced as the remnants of the nightmare clung to you like a heavy fog. You were back in the lab, the sterile, suffocating air, the cold metal table beneath you, the sharp sting of needles, the hum of machines monitoring your every heartbeat. The doctors—no, they weren’t doctors—had done this to you.

The pain… it was unbearable. You had screamed in your mind, desperate to escape, to survive. But it hadn’t been enough. The dream always ended the same way: your body convulsing, your breath leaving you, your heart stopping. You died there.

And then, as the darkness closed in, your eyes shot open. The scream tore from your throat before you could stop it, raw and terrified. Your body trembled, the terror from the nightmare still alive inside you.

A voice, low and familiar, cut through the panic. “Hey, hey… are you okay?” Logan’s voice, filled with concern, echoed in the quiet of the room. You blinked rapidly, your eyes focusing on him. You were safe. Your were alive. But your mind was still trapped in that place, that nightmare. The pain, the fear… it was all too real.

“Logan…” you breathed, your voice shaking, your body still trembling as his presence grounded you.His brows furrowed as he moved closer, his hand instinctively reaching for your.

He took both your small, trembling hands into his one, massive palm, covering them completely. Logan's rough thumb gently stroked across the back of your hand, the warmth and weight of his touch grounding you, bringing you back from the dark memories of the nightmare.

“Hey,” he murmured softly, his voice low and comforting. “You’re safe now. You’re okay.” He kept his voice calm, his thumb continuing to trace soothing circles as he waited for your breathing to even out. Slowly, you began to calm, your fingers loosening in his grip.

“I… I had a nightmare,” you whispered, barely able to meet his eyes, feeling the remnants of fear still lingering. Logan gave a slight nod, his gaze steady and understanding. “It’s okay. I get those too.” He didn’t press you, just held your hands in his, keeping his presence steady, like an anchor. He stayed there a few moments longer, not moving, until he was sure you were truly alright.

When he finally started to release her hands and stand, her fingers tightened around his. “Wait… would you… stay with me?” You asked, hope and despair could be heard in your throbbing voice.

He glanced at you for a moment, reading the vulnerability in your eyes, and gave a brief nod. “Sure,” he said softly, settling back down by your side. You felt a wave of relief wash over you, as his presence remained close. Gently, he kept your hands in his, his steady, quiet strength surrounding you, until you drifted off again, finally feeling safe.

The sun's rays shone directly into your eyes through the blinds, waking you up. You moved a bit and left a pleased quiet yawn from your lips. You realized you were lying on top of Logan's bare chest, his massive hand resting on your hip. The realization left you in shock for a small moment. After all, it felt comfortable.

The heat from his body warmed yours, his heartbeat was slow in rhythm and you enjoyed listening to it. It was a lovely melody that you wouldn't get tired of.

You slowly looked over at Logan, who was still sleeping. You couldn’t help but let your gaze linger a bit longer, taking in every detail. The way his profile softened under the light, the relaxed way he held himself, like he belonged nowhere else but right here, right now. Your heart began to race, almost as if you'd just realized something you hadn’t quite let yourself feel before.

There was a flutter deep inside you, a mix of nerves and excitement, tiny, electric sparks that seemed to move from her your to your stomach, filling it with a soft, almost dizzying warmth.

You'd heard people talk about “butterflies,” but until now, you hadn’t understood just how real they were. It was overwhelming but oddly comforting at the same time, like an emotion you'd always wanted to feel but never quite believed you would.

You could barely focus, all your senses drawn toward Logan, wondering if he’d notice how your cheeks were flushed, or if he could sense the way your pulse seemed to echo in your ears. In that moment, everything else faded, and it was just you. Just you, discovering that maybe, just maybe, you were falling for him.

Suddenly, Logan woke up. You quickly closed your eyes, pretending to be asleep. You wanted to avoid any awkward situation where he might realize you'd been watching him sleep. What kind of creep does that? He’d definitely think you were crazy, and you weren't about to risk that.

He took a deep breath and clumsily looked around. He seemed confused, but you understood why. After a long, deep sleep, it made sense. Once he finally got his bearings, remembering where he was or who he was, he realized the position the two of you were in. He quickly jerked his hand away from your hip. Part of him enjoyed it, but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. That was the last thing he wanted.

He yawned loudly, and you took the opportunity to pretend you are waking up too. He looked at you and couldn’t help but smile. Even though it was morning, you still looked so stunning and majestic. You glanced at him and pretended that you had only just realized you were lying on him. Quickly, you pulled away and cleared your throat awkwardly. He chuckled under his breath and stretched his arms.

“Good morning,” he said in his rough morning voice, sending strange waves of pleasure down between your legs. Quietly and shyly, you murmured a good morning back and stretched your back.

“Did you sleep better?” he asked, sitting up so he could at least see half of your face. You nodded, looking at him with a grateful smile. He returned the smile, and when he felt his cheeks starting to warm, he decided to get out of bed. “I’ll go make breakfast,” he added before leaving the room.

You couldn’t shake the lingering scent of Logan, as you lay in bed for a few moments longer. The nightmare had already faded from your mind. You stepped out of the room and made your way to the kitchen, where Logan was at the stove, frying eggs and bacon in a skillet. He looked up at her, did a quick double-take, and smiled. Inside, though, you felt anything but fresh. You felt grimy, sweaty, and were sure your breath wasn’t at its best. “Mind if I use your shower?” You asked softly, your voice shy. Logan nodded and pointed down the hall.

Before you left the room, though, you naturally realized, that your clothes weren't clean either. Feeling a bit nervous, you asked Logan again, “Um, and could I maybe borrow some of your clothes?”

The question seemed to catch him off guard, but he couldn’t say no. “Yeah, I’ve got some shirts in the closet,” he replied, focusing intently on the bacon in the pan without looking at you.

You whispered a soft thank you and went to find something of his to wear. You found a red flannel shirt, and it smelled incredible. You couldn’t resist, taking a deep inhale of the scent was like breathing in Logan himself, a scent so intoxicating it felt like a drug.

Finally, you went to shower, freshen up, and take care of a little hygiene. You tossed your dirty clothes aside and slipped into Logan’s shirt. It hung loosely around you, the hem falling nearly to your thighs and the sleeves draping well past your hands. It felt oversized, almost like a protective blanket, wrapping you in his warmth. His scent, smoky, rugged, with a hint of rum, was woven into the fabric, surrounding you completely.

As you stepped out of the bathroom, the warm scent of breakfast led you toward the kitchen. Logan had just finished setting the plates, but when he looked up and saw you in his oversized flannel shirt, he froze.

It was clear it was his, unmistakably his, and seeing you in it stirred something fierce within him. He couldn’t stop his eyes from roaming over you, taking in how small you looked wrapped up in his clothes. But it wasn't just that, It was the way it clung to you in places, falling just so across your curves, that drove him wild. The collar hung slightly open, teasing him with glimpses of bare skin, and he found himself aching to close that distance, to run his hands along your waist and pull you close, inhaling that soft scent of yours now mingled with his own.

He swallowed hard, silently praying you couldn’t read his thoughts, because the things running through his mind right then were nowhere near decent. Trying to keep his composure, he gave you a lopsided smile. Get it together, he thought, but it was hopeless. All he could think about was how right it felt to see you in his shirt and how much he was craving for your lips right now.

When Logan finished his breakfast, he pushed back from the table and wiped his mouth. He looked ready to leave, grabbing his jacket and placing his hands on the table, looking resolute, like he planned something.

“Alright, I’m heading out for a hunt. Need to stock up for the week,” he said, his voice firm and unwavering.

You paused for a moment, then looked up at him. You weren’t sure if that was a good idea. After all, the FBI is still looking for you and who knows if they'll come to search the cabin again. This time Logan won't be there to protect you. But it wasn't just the FBI that worried you. You didn't want to be alone. You didn't want Logan to leave for god knows how long. You wanted to be with him.

“Y-you're going hunting?” you assured, trying to keep your tone as casual as possible. “Yeah,” he replied, already moving toward the door. “Won’t take long. Just need to get an early start.” You didn’t want him to go alone, and you definitely didn’t want to stay behind.

“Can I come with you?” you blurted out quickly to get his attention before he left. Logan slowly turned and looked at you blankly. “I don’t have anything else to do and… I’d like to help. Can you take me with you?”

Logan was surprised. His eyes softened a bit, but he still seemed unsure. He lowered his head slightly, his face unreadable, as he thought it over. You couldn’t tell if he was considering the idea or just trying to decide how to say no.

“This isn’t exactly a leisure trip, you know?” he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “And it’s not exactly safe. This isn’t the kind of place for someone without experience.”

But there was something in your eyes that made him hesitate. Maybe it was the fear in your eyes for being alone, or maybe you really wanted to learn hunting… Whatever it was, he didn’t dismiss the idea immediately.

“I know it’s not going to be easy,” you replied, looking at him intently. “But I’d feel better going with you…safer.”

Logan looked at you carefully, his gaze softening a little, though his posture was still tense. “Are you sure you can handle it?” You could tell he wasn’t as convinced as he sounded, but your puppy eyes were the last straw for him.

“Alright, fine,” he said, finally relenting. His voice was still serious, but his lips quirked into something like a smile. “Just keep up and don’t slow me down.” You smiled widely, your heart racing a little faster as you stand up from the table, excited.

Logan suddenly raised both hands, holding them in front of him like a stop sign, his expression playful but firm. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said with a smirk, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. “Where exactly do you think you’re going in that outfit?”

His tone was teasing, but there was a flicker of seriousness and concern in his gaze. You look down at yourself and realize you were wearing just his shirt and panties. This is probably not a best suit for hunting.

You looked back at Logan apologetically and a little embarrassed. He shook his head amused and went to hand you some pants.

"I hope they fit...I wore them when I was 14" You both giggled and you put the pants on right in front of him. He watched you the whole time and when you were finally dressed formally, you went out.

You walked with Logan into the woods, your eyes darting cautiously to every shadow and rustling leaf. The thought of the FBI lurking around still haunted you, keeping you tense and alert with every step. But gradually, Logan’s mere presence started to ease your nerves, grounding you in a sense of safety. He didn’t need to say anything; just being near him seemed to calm your racing mind.

Then, a sudden snap of a branch echoed through the trees. Without thinking, you moved closer to Logan, pressing against him instinctively. Your heartbeat quickened, and your breath caught in your chest, certain that you were being watched. But Logan, calm and unbothered, scanned the trees and then nodded toward the source of the sound.

“It’s just a squirrel,” he murmured with a small, amused smile.

You exhaled, your shoulders relaxing as you glanced up at him, feeling a little silly but reassured.

You and Logan kept moving deeper into the woods, his steady pace reassuring even as you couldn’t quite shake the edge of tension from earlier. After a while, Logan spotted a deer grazing in the distance. He motioned for you to be quiet, and the two of you slowly crept toward it.

You both took cover behind a bush, and you watched as Logan readied himself to take aim. But something in you hesitated, you couldn’t help but feel for the gentle creature standing unaware, and a wave of reluctance washed over you. Turning to him, you whispered, trying to convince him, “It’s just a helpless animal…”

Logan’s jaw tightened, a hint of irritation crossing his face. But after a moment, his expression softened as he looked at you, and he let out a quiet sigh. Though a bit begrudgingly, he lowered his weapon.

“Fine,” he muttered, barely concealing a small smirk. Together, you moved on to search for something smaller, Logan leading the way with a slight shake of his head, as if both amused and exasperated.

After walking a little further, you both spotted a wild boar rummaging around the forest floor. Though the idea still tugged painfully at you, you managed to steel yourself, accepting that Logan would take this one down. Once again, you crouched behind cover, careful to stay hidden from the boar’s sight.

Logan took aim and fired, the shot ringing out sharply in the quiet of the woods. You flinched slightly, a quick jolt of surprise, but it wasn’t as bad as you expected. With just one shot, Logan brought the boar down, his skill evident in that single, precise hit. “Come on” he clicked his head towards the animal and you slowly followed him.

When you reached the fallen animal, a wave of sadness stirred in you, seeing it lying there. Logan noticed your expression, and without a word, he stepped closer to you, his gaze softening.

He placed a warm, steady hand on your shoulder, grounding you. “Hey,” he murmured gently, his voice low and calm. “It’s alright. I know this feels…heavy.” His hand moved in a slow, reassuring circle, and you could feel the tension in your body start to melt just a little.

“Hunting isn’t easy, but sometimes it’s necessary. Out here, it’s survival.”

You looked up at him, catching the quiet sympathy in his eyes. The faint lines at the corners of his eyes softened as he gave you a small smile. “We use what we take,” he added, as if sensing you needed something more to ease your mind. “Nothing goes to waste.”

His thumb brushed your shoulder with an unexpected tenderness, and the weight on your chest began to lift. You nodded, still feeling a little heavy-hearted but reassured by his words. “Thank you,” you whispered, feeling his warmth seeping through you.

Logan gave your shoulder one last squeeze, lingering just a moment before he released you. “Come on,” he said, his tone back to its usual steady resolve. “We’ll take care of him. I’ll show you how.”

He began to prepare the boar, his movements efficient but respectful, and you felt grateful that he understood the balance between survival and compassion.

Logan already carried two boars effortlessly over his shoulders, his strength nothing short of superhuman. Watching him handle such weight so casually stirred a flicker of admiration and something else, a heated thrill you couldn’t quite ignore.

When he looked over with a faint smirk, you felt warmth rise to your cheeks and quickly glanced away, flustered. Logan caught the gesture, and a low chuckle escaped him.

Then, without warning, he pressed a firm hand against your chest, stopping you in your tracks. His gaze turned serious, and he tilted his head toward the trees up ahead. “See that?” he whispered, nodding toward another boar just in the distance.

You nodded, heart thumping a little faster. Together, you crept forward, crouching low as you hid yourselves behind a bush. Logan carefully lowered the animals he was carrying to the ground and pulled out his rifle, eyes focused on the target. For a few seconds, he lined up his shot, but then he turned his gaze toward you, a determined glint in his eye.

“If you’re going to survive out here, you’re going to have to learn how to handle this,” he murmured, holding the rifle out to you. With a nod, he motioned for you to move in closer.

For a moment, you hesitated, but the intensity in Logan’s eyes drew you in. You stepped closer, until you were pressed against him, his sturdy form shielding you from behind. The closeness felt reassuring, comforting even, yet you struggled to focus on anything other than the way his body molded perfectly against yours.

Slowly, you reached out for the rifle, feeling its unexpected weight. Sensing your effort, Logan wrapped his hands around yours, helping you hold it steady. You both gripped it together, his strong hands guiding yours.

The warmth of Logan’s chest pressed against your back sent shivers down your spine, awakening a flood of excitement that you couldn’t control. His strong arms surrounded you, hands wrapped firmly around yours on the rifle, steady and commanding. Each breath he took brushed softly against your neck, and you found yourself unable to think of anything but his presence. Solid, protective, and impossibly close.

His touch was rough but careful, and the way his fingers enveloped yours made your pulse race. You couldn’t ignore the way his grip felt, strong and possessive, sending waves of thrill and desire through you.

He covered you like a protective barrier, making you feel safe enough to face anything.

“All right,” he murmured in a voice that was dark, smooth, almost too tempting. “Now, aim at him.” His breath brushed your ear, making it even harder to concentrate. Your fingers touched his where they rested over yours, sending sparks down your spine. But you tried your best to focus, steadying your gaze on the boar ahead.

“That’s it,” he encouraged softly, his voice a low rumble that made you take a deep breath, willing yourself to keep your aim.

Your hands were shaking a bit, but Logan’s massive hands kept the rifle steady, guiding it in perfect alignment. “Shoot,” he commanded, and for a moment, you hesitated, unsure of yourself. But then, with a gentle push from him, you squeezed the trigger, and the shot rang out. The impact sent a jolt through you, and you stumbled slightly backward into Logan’s chest. He chuckled softly, glancing down at you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and reassuring. You nodded quickly, eyes already moving to the wild boar lying motionless on the ground.

“You did it. Good job,” he praised, and the words sent another wave of satisfaction rushing through you, a pleasant heat spreading between your thighs.

Logan then stood, offering his hand to help you up, and you both walked over to inspect the boar. You felt terrible, a heavy weight pressing on your chest as you stared at the lifeless body of the wild boar, the one you had just killed. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut, and a wave of guilt washed over you. But Logan didn’t seem bothered by it at all.

Without hesitation, he hoisted the dead boar over his shoulders, along with the two others, and started walking back toward the cabin with you.

Before getting in the truck, he tossed the animals into the back with ease, as though it was nothing. Then he climbed into the driver’s seat, leaving you standing outside, unsure of what to do next.

“Hop in!” Logan called out with a grin, and you quickly obeyed, climbing into the truck. “We’re going to the store. I’ll need something,” he said, and with a turn of the key, the engine roared to life.

As soon as you stepped into the store, everything felt new. You had never been inside a store before, and it amazed you. Shelves upon shelves filled with things you’d never seen, snacks, drinks, and foods that were completely unfamiliar to you. Logan had told you to stay close to him, but the overwhelming curiosity got the best of you. You couldn’t help but wander around, eyeing all the delicious treats you had no idea existed.

Suddenly, three men approached you. “Hey cutie” one of the slimy guys called out making you turn around. You raised your eyebrows innocently and incomprehension as you watched them approach you. They kept whispering something to each other and laughing, in a very creepy way.

"Damn you're a snack!" "Nice curves you've got there!" they said and kept getting closer. You backed up until you hit a shelf, not allowed to move away from them anymore. "What's a hot chick like you doing in a place like this?" the tallest guy with a beard, that smelled like rotten fish, reached out and tried to touch your arm. You flinched, trying to step away, but they only followed.

You took another step back, hoping to escape their grip, but it was no use. Another hand reached out to brush against your waist, sending a shiver of discomfort down your spine. “Yeah, come on sweetheart, don’t be shy. Let us show you a good time.”

Your heart raced, fear bubbling inside, but before you could react, you heard a familiar, low voice. “I think she’s good, boys”

He was standing there now, his arms crossed, his presence like a wall of muscle, dark eyes locked on the men. His voice was calm but deadly serious.

“And who the hell are you? You some kinda hero?”

Logan stepped closer, his gaze never leaving them. “No, I’m not. But I’ll make sure you wish you were never born if you keep this up.”

The men hesitated, clearly weighing their options. Logan’s stance and cold, threatening tone made them think twice. He reached out, grabbing one by the collar and pulling him a few inches off the ground.

“You’d better walk away. Now.” The men quickly realized they were outmatched, and with a few muttered curses, they backed off, turning and walking away in defeat. Logan kept his eyes on them, waiting until they were completely gone before letting the tension in his body ease.

He turned to you, his expression softening just slightly, though still protective. “You good?” You nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over you, though your heart was still racing. Logan’s presence had been a shield, and you couldn’t help but feel safe again.

You quietly thanked him, and Logan simply nodded. He didn’t hesitate any longer, unwilling to risk more men getting too close to you. Gently, he grabbed your waist and pulled you to his side, holding you there. You didn’t protest.

Logan’s usual cool demeanor had a hint of something else now, something possessive, as his hand rested firmly on your side. He wasn’t just guarding you, he was claiming you in a way. His thoughts were elsewhere, likely simmering with anger over what had just happened. Though he’d tried to handle things calmly with words, the desire to protect you at all costs was stronger than ever.

He might’ve been trying to be civil, but if anyone tried something again, there would be no hesitation. Logan would’ve torn them apart in seconds if you weren’t around. He had a certain control over himself, but it was clear, he didn’t like anyone stepping too close to what was his.

You came to the register, Logan paid and you left. You didn't exchange a word until then. "What would you like for dinner?" he asked, turning the subject away. He didn't want to discuss the uncomfortable situation further and make you feel uneasy. Talking about food seemed like a better topic to him.

“I don't know” Logan left you from his grip, when you were already at the car. You got inside, where Logan placed the grocery bag in the back seat, before starting the car. "We'll figure something out"

It was evening when you were finally back at the cabin, and Logan was in the kitchen, preparing dinner. The scent of fresh ingredients filled the air, mixing with the smoky, earthy aroma of the forest outside. He was focused, moving with the kind of purpose you admired. You sat on the couch, leaning back into the cushions, watching him from where you were. You were wearing a new shirt, his shirt, of course, but nothing else but your underwear.

As your eyes traced the muscles in his arms, the way his body moved as he chopped and stirred, you felt yourself growing more and more captivated by him. The warmth from the kitchen contrasted with the cool air in the room, but it only added to the heat that built inside you, a feeling that had nothing to do with temperature.

You wanted to help, of course, but when you offered, Logan shook his head. “You should rest,” he said softly, glancing over his shoulder at you, a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. “I’ve got this.”

With a small, reluctant sigh, you sank back further into the couch, feeling the warmth of the room settle around you. Logan finished preparing the meal, but instead of rushing to serve, he made you a cup of warm tea. The steam rose up, delicate and soothing. He handed it to you with a soft smile, the heat of the cup spilling into your hands, grounding you in the moment.

You wrapped your fingers around the warm ceramic, grateful for the comfort he offered, both physically and emotionally. The tenderness, the care he took in everything he did for you, it made you feel both vulnerable and cherished.

Logan leaned against the counter, watching you with those intense eyes of his, the same gaze that had been on you since the moment you met. It was as though you were the only thing that mattered in that moment. And you couldn’t deny the way it made your heart race.

Logan finished preparing the meal, a hearty dish of seared steaks, roasted vegetables, and mashed potatoes, the savory smells filling the cabin and making your stomach growl with anticipation. He set the plates down on the coffee table in front of the couch where you were sitting, making sure everything was just right. You couldn’t help but smile, taking in the scene. The warm glow of the lights in the cabin made it feel cozy and intimate, a stark contrast to the chaos of your past.

You both settled onto the couch, Logan taking a seat beside you. The food was delicious, and even though the conversation wasn’t centered around anything important, it felt grounding. Logan had a way of making even the smallest details sound interesting. His deep voice, full of humor, washed over you as he shared stories of his time on the road, a mix of ridiculous adventures and near-disasters.

Logan’s laughter was like music, deep and genuine. He didn’t laugh often, but when he did, it was as if the weight of the world had been lifted from him, even if only for a moment. You couldn’t help but laugh along, his energy infectious, his smile that much brighter when he caught your eye.

As you both continued eating, you realized how easy it was to be with him. There was no need to act or pretend, no awkward silences or forced small talk. For the first time in what felt like forever, you were completely at ease. The sound of Logan’s voice, the warmth of the food, the softness of the couch beneath you, it all felt like home.

You didn’t even notice how much time had passed, how the world outside the cabin had ceased to exist in that moment. For the first time in years, you felt truly happy.

Logan’s eyes caught yours, a small smile on his lips. “What?” he asked, noticing your gaze. You shook your head, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. “Nothing, just… this feels nice,” you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Logan raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at his mouth. “Nice, huh? You sure know how to flatter a guy.” You laughed, feeling a warmth spread through you, but it wasn’t just from the food. It was from being here, with him. Safe. Comfortable. Content.

“I mean it,” you said, your voice softer now. “For the first time in a long time, I feel like… I don’t have to worry about anything.”

Logan paused, his fork hovering in the air for a second before he set it down on his plate. His gaze softened, just for a moment, before he looked away. “I get that,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Things don’t have to be complicated, not when you’re with the right people.”

You felt your heart skip a beat at his words, his sincerity making you feel something deep within. You wanted to believe him, wanted to believe that for once, you could just be happy. That you didn’t need to keep fighting.

He looked back at you, his expression now more serious. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said, his voice low, yet filled with an honesty that hit you in a way you hadn’t expected.

Your chest tightened with emotion, and you nodded, trying to mask how much those words meant. It was strange, how something so simple could affect you so much. But then again, everything with Logan felt different, more real.

The night wore on, and the two of you shared stories, laughed, and ate. The weight of the world didn’t seem as heavy as it had just hours ago. You were no longer thinking about the FBI or what had brought you here. You were only thinking about the present, about Logan.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Logan’s voice was casual, but there was something in it that caught your attention. You nodded, waiting for him to continue. He took a final bite of his food, chewing slowly before setting his plate down with a soft clink.

“Have you ever been with anyone?” The question hung in the air, unexpected and direct. It startled you, leaving you unsure of how to respond. Your mind raced, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to answer. Logan, sensing the hesitation, quickly shifted his tone, as if trying to soften the impact. But you still found yourself replying simply, “No. I never really had the chance.”

He seemed to understand, nodding thoughtfully. “If you had the chance, though, I bet you’d have no trouble at all.”

You laughed nervously and shook your head in disbelief. “No way… I don’t think so.”

Logan’s expression softened as he leaned slightly forward, his eyes never leaving yours. There was a seriousness in his voice when he spoke again, but a warmth too. “Yes way, I mean look at you. You’re beautiful, not just on the outside, but in everything you are. The way you carry yourself, your strength, the way you laugh, it all draws people in. You have this… presence. I can’t imagine anyone not wanting to be close to you.”

The sincerity in his words made your breath catch. It was as though every insecurity you’d hidden deep inside was being slowly unraveled, laid bare in the best possible way. His words, simple but heartfelt, wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, making you feel seen in a way you hadn’t in a long time.

Logan kept speaking, his words filling the space between you. “I’ve never met anyone like you.” His voice was deep, full of admiration, and you could feel how much he meant it. “You’ve got this amazing energy, this fire. I don’t know how you do it.”

But despite his compliments, something inside you was aching to stop him, to silence all those words. You wanted him in a way you couldn’t explain, something fierce that pulsed through your veins. You couldn’t hold back any longer. You leaned in, your breath catching as you pressed your lips gently against his.

Logan was surprised at first, barely reacting, his lips soft under yours. He wasn’t expecting this, and neither were you, but the spark that ignited between you two was undeniable.

Before you could even think, Logan’s hands found their way to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. His lips parted, deepening the kiss. This time, there was no hesitation. His kiss was hungry, passionate, like he couldn’t get enough of you. You felt his fingers move, cupping your face gently, as though he was afraid of breaking something precious between you. But you weren’t fragile. You weren’t scared.

You responded, matching his intensity, the heat between you two overwhelming, leaving you both breathless.

You put your plate down on the table as Logan's weight weighed you down, so you were underneath him. He didn't want to rush into anything, but at the same time, he couldn't keep that desire inside him for long.

He was kissing you hungrily and you kissed him back, your fingers found a place between his soft hair, which you pulled and messed up. His knee, without his intention, slowly rubbed against your panties. He created the pressure that you wanted for a long time. Your core was pulsating, greedily, desperately wanting something to drive away that annoying lust.

Your lips leaving a soft moans between the kisses, making Logan's pants tighter. Your sweet sound made it hard for Logan to be patient with you. His hands were slowly moving down, gently exploring your body. Every touch of his filled you with doses of adrenaline. Your hips were carefully rocking against Logan's knee as a natural instinct. He scoffed and stopped kissing you to take a look at you.

"Someone's eager huh?" His voice sounded mocking but at the same time, irritated you much more than his leg against your core. You wanted him. You needed him. Lust like you've never experienced before. It was stronger than hunger or thirst, it was much more intense.

You had no idea what was happening to you but you knew you needed Logan. Much, much closer. He didn't need to read minds to see how frantically you needed this.

He lunged at your lips again, much more wildly. One of his hands traveled quite quickly to your legs. When he reached your thighs, he massaged you for a while there. Oh god he needed it as badly as you did.

He couldn't remember the last time he had good sex. It's been a while since he's been living alone in this cabin with only the animals around. Of course, when he got the hang of it, he masturbated, but over time he got tired of it. But the moment you appeared in his sight, you reawakened in him the flame of passion and especially erection, which he was still trying to hide and suppress whenever you were near him.

But now was the time when you both could finally indulge. To relax, achieve pleasure and share the most intimate moment with the person who saved you.

Logan's hand smoothly moved from your thigh to your inner thigh, way too close to the point you wanted him the most. You tried to move your hips so that he would finally touch you. He chuckled softly, noticing your movements. “Easy there”

His middle finger started gently brushing you through your panties. Your eyes widened, as you felt a tickle warm feeling in your lower stomach. You couldn't describe what exactly you felt but it was breathtaking. You couldn't get enough of it.

Logan was careful, gentle and obedient, but you kept implying that you wanted the exact opposite. You wanted more, more pressure, more fingers, but most of all you wanted him to finally take off your panties. You bit your lower lip, trying to be quiet as the soft groans of desperation started leaving your throat, without even realizing it.

"Come on princess, let me hear you" Logan put more pressure into his finger, making you close your eyes and drop your jaw. You couldn't control your voice anymore and that was exactly what Logan wanted. Hearing your moaning and seeing your eyebrows twitching in pleasure, made his dick even harder.

He wanted to feel you, he wanted to taste you, that's why he grabbed your panties made of soft fabric and pulled them off you in one swipe. You gasped a bit as the cold fresh air touched your bare core, wet and pulsating.

When Logan saw your pussy, his breath caught in his chest. You were beautiful. The transparent glistening liquid on your labia was driving him crazy. It looked like the most delicious meat he would ever taste and he decided to not waste any more time, even though he would love to look at you even longer.

He got on his knees on the couch, lowering himself so that his head was right between your thighs. You lowered your head, heavy breathing and heart beating like never before. This image will be etched in your memory forever. His devilish smile and flirtatious wink was the last time you saw, before you started seeing stars.

He buried his face into your cunt, his nose teasing your clit while his tongue was swirling around your surface. He licked off all your wetness while you had to catch on to something. You grab his already disheveled hair, pulling and tugging him.

Your strokes, which Logan barely felt, made him growl against you, sending pleasent vibration right into your core. "Logan" you gasped as his tongue finally penetrated you. He was stretching you and surprisingly, it didn't hurt at all. You were so horny that his penetration was smooth without any problems.

You bit your lips again, creating a bloody mess there, but you could care less. You kept moving your hips awkwardly as Logan created a volcano of emotions inside you. His tongue touched your walls, twirling around and tasting every drop of your juice. On top of that, his nose didn't stop at deliberately provoking your sensitive clit, sending you closer and closer to orgasm.

Logan kept his eyes on you. He watched as your nostrils flared, your brows furrowed, and your muscles tensed beyond belief trying to hold on. You could feel his cocky smile, as your walls started to tighten around his tongue. He knew you were close. “You taste so good”

Your grunt grew louder with every flick of Logan's tongue, your hips moving against his face, before you felt a pressing sensation in your lower abdomen. Goosebumps covered your entire body and a chill ran down your spine, before it happened. Your jaw fall open, your eyes tight close and you shouted over the entire cottage, that even the birds outside flew away.

You squirm all over Logan's face. The feeling of release washed over you until you fell from the height and struggled to catch your breath. Logan licked you, he was very dusty and didn't want to leave even a drop of your cum. The overstimulation started heating up your core.

Logan moved away from your crotch, sitting on his ankles and watching you for a moment. Even though you were drained, you still looked stunning. You opened your eyes when you felt huge warm hands on your cheeks. "That's my girl" you chuckled, your eyelids felt heavy but you couldn't stop looking at Logan's face. He still had the rest of your squirm on his chin and nose, glistening through the rays of cozy light around the room.

"Are you ready?" your heart skipped a beat at his question, but his messy hair with face like an angel made you nod your head. Logan smiled with a huff, kissing you harshly. His hands weren't as careful as before, he was reaching all over you and didn't hesitate to touch you under your, actually his, shirt at all.

You cooperated with his passionate kissing, both of you sighing. Suddenly you felt something poking you which started to annoy you. You pulled away from Logan's lips and looked down to see his huge erection still trapped in his pants. Your eyes widened and your core started pulsating again. Logan noticed your staring and couldn't help but chuckle.

“What are you lookin' at?” you quickly look back into his eyes, embarrassed. As a result, you started to blush and had to suck your lips into a thin line. God Logan adored you.

"Don't worry sweetie" he leans, brushing his lips against your ear as his hot breath warmed your skin. “You'll get it” with those words, he covered your face in soft kisses. You were enjoying it until you heard belt unfastening and a zipper. You knew it was coming and you couldn't wait. You were so heated up and that Logan's cock could cool you down.

You felt the excitement spread throughout your body, as Logan's pants fell onto the floor. You already felt something hard tickling you in your inner thigh. You were impatient. You let out an eager purr, indicating that you absolutely needed to have Logan inside you. He sense your hints and the uncontrollable movements of your hips, fervently trying to get some friction.

Logan look at you, eyes dark with lust, before he presses his lips against yours and at that exact same time, he slowly thrust into you. You squeak, eyes widened as he stretched your walls extremely wide. You were wrapped around him, so fucking tight. His precum mixed with the remaining juices inside you, creating a useful natural lubricant.

"Fuck" he dropped his forehead against yours, his hot breathing in shallow, uneven gasps as he continued his way to get fully inside you. You were quietly whimpering, eyes closed but you felt amazing. Logan's presence so close to you finally got rid of that aggravating aching between your legs.

“Hold onto me baby,” Logan kept comforting you and whispering sweet things that made your heart beat faster. “Just like that” his voice low and hard, ruspy in a way that tickled your eardrums. You automatically wrapped your legs around Logan's waist when he was inside to the base. You felt so full, but that it still wasn't enough. You begged for more.

Logan, like a true gentleman, let you get used to him and catch a breath a little, before he started the rodeo. He moved his pan with incredibly gentle movements. His tip touching and provoking your cervix and places you didn't even know could be reached.

Your mouth opened automatically as you were sighing, your voice pitch and strong. "You like that?" Logan was looking at you and even though you couldn't see him, you instinctively suspected that he was watching you. You didn't mind. You didn't mind at all. You nodded carelessly and threw your head back as Logan started to pick up the pace.

Exactly what you needed and wanted. It's like he's reading your mind. As if he knew your body perfectly and knew exactly what you want, what you desire, what you need.

He took both of your hands and held them tightly as he placed them above your head. Again, you didn't mind. Your only focus was his cock in your vagina. How wonderful he feels. How his massive cock touches every sensitive spot inside you, slowly but surely bringing you to climax.

“Look at you,” he said with a smile as he fought himself not to empty himself into you yet. You're making it really hard for him though. "Such a...." he dropped his head as his dick started twitching, his thrusts gained strength and intensity. "Such a good girl”

He felt it. You felt it too. You stopped perceiving your surroundings, your ears started ringing and the rumbling in your stomach burned. Logan, on the other hand, felt he wouldn't last much longer.

He quickly unbuttoned your shirt, the buttons flew around but it was a blast for both of you. Your breasts bounced to the rhythm of Logan's thrusting, which started being unbearable. He lost control of his pelvis and movements in order to catch up with his orgasm. He got on his knees, freeing your hands but held your hips firmly, while keep pounding into you without mercy.

"You feel s-so good" he groaned his eyes tightly shut as he felt his orgasm being implausibly close. Your legs started shaking, vibrating. You stopped feeling your toes and that's when you felt it. You arch your back, jaw wide open while you moaned really, really loudly.

Your walls tightened around Logan's length, but he didn't stop. All of your muscles stiffened until in one moment, they suddenly relaxed and you let out a soft sigh of relief. Logan chuckled when you cum all over his dick and decided not to wait for his moment anymore. Few more hard thrust, before he pulled out and sprayed your belly with his seed.

His moan was really intense and turned you on again, plus the realization that he made this sound just because of you, your heart was melting.

After that he collapsed on you but carefully, not to smash your tiny body. His forehead was leaning against yours, both of you breathing heavily while giggling. "That was...awesome" Logan sighed, making you laugh and blush. It was that good, that you couldn't even talk. But Logan made sure that there was no awkward silence.

"You were quite loud, princess,” your cheeks started to blush but you didn't break eye contact with Logan, even with such close proximity. “Always so quiet and mysterious… but in bed? You’re not afraid of that, are you?” you were terribly shy, but in a good way. You didn't know you could make such sounds yourself.

He grinned, seeing you all red and sweaty was a moment of comfort for him. He didn't want to admit it, but he felt butterflies in his stomach and they just wouldn't go away since he saw you.

"Come on, let's get you clean up" Logan grunted as he stood up and didn't ask you, just grabbed you and carried you into the bathroom like a princess. You didn't complain, you swung your legs and rested your head on his chest, feeling indescribably good with him.

A few years had passed, and the life you and Logan had built together only grew deeper and richer with time. You’d both settled into a quiet, natural rhythm, a blend of strength and softness, of trust and a fierce loyalty that had grown from countless shared moments, both big and small. Logan, once guarded and wary, had opened up to you in ways neither of you expected, revealing a side that was as protective and tender as it was wild. And you, too, had found a quiet courage within yourself, rooted in him and in the life you shared. Your bond felt like something timeless and unbreakable, a connection that had only strengthened as the years drifted by, like roots that had grown deep and steady in the rich earth of your love.

Logan stood outside the cabin, dressed only in a pair of worn, dark-gray sweatpants that clung to his muscular frame. His gaze stretched out over the rugged landscape, eyes fixed on the rolling hills and dense trees, but his thoughts were somewhere far beyond the scenery. The dawn air was cool, mist rising in thin wisps over the ground, and Logan breathed it in slowly, grounding himself in the calm solitude of nature. His rugged face was softened in the morning light, deep in thought, a rare vulnerability showing in his expression as he seemed to wrestle with something private, something known only to him.

Then, as if sensing him, you stepped quietly onto the porch, carrying a small, bundled form against your chest. You approached him with a warmth and excitement that seemed to break through his solitude. The tiny child in your arms cooed softly, and Logan, feeling your presence before even hearing a sound, turned around. His face lit up with an expression that was a blend of pride, awe, and something deeper, something fierce and protective.

With a gentle smile, you cradled his newborn closer, offering the child toward him. Logan’s face softened, and he reached out, his large, roughened hand brushing over the child’s head with an almost reverent touch.

“She really do have your nose,” he murmured, a smirk breaking across his face as he looked up at you.

You laughed softly, stepping close to wrap your arm around his waist. Logan pulled you in, his warmth settling around you both. Together, you looked out over the vast expanse of trees and sky stretching endlessly before you, wrapped in the serenity of the moment.

“Can you believe this?” you whispered, resting your head on his shoulder.

Logan’s voice was low but sure. “Wouldn’t trade it for anything.” He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, his rough hand squeezing your shoulder gently.

The life you shared with him in that moment, under the quiet sky, was both humbling and thrilling, an unexpected future he never dared to hope for but now couldn’t imagine living without.

[buck-star]

Marshmallow lover | B.B & S.R

>> Bucky comes home from a mission, flashbacks are brought back. But luckily you know what Bucky needs to clam down. Not only you and Steve but also hot chocolate. <<

Pairing: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x Girlfriend!Reader

Wordcount: 2.852 Words

Warnings: poly-relationship, m/m/f, established relationship, anxiety/panic, mention of punching), nicknames (babydoll, princess, majesty), fluff

Authors Note: Dedicated to @mercurial-chuckles. Cause you asked for Stucky, hehe. I had another idea but I just haven’t had enough motivation or ideas to write it. So I hope you like that one anyway.

Events: Stucky Bingo [SB6010 | B3 | Writing Format: second person + November Prompt: Home | @stuckybingo] Steve Rogers Bingo [SB4054 | C3 | Free Space | @steverogersbingo]

Masterlist | Stucky x Reader Masterlist

It was one of these early winter days, where the weather wasn't too cold but you could already feel the breeze the winter was bringing with itself. The air was cool; your hands would have been ice blocks already, but luckily your boyfriend was holding one of them, and the other has been stuck in your pocket since the two of you left the house.

Actually, the two of you thought about staying home until Bucky came home — from the mission — in the evening. But when Bucky told you that he wouldn't be home before the late evening, Steve decided to force you in a loving way to go shopping with him. He knew you loved decoration, so it was the best opportunity to make you leave the house and have some fun with him. Otherwise, you would have sat in the hallway, watching the front door until Bucky walked inside.

It happened once, and both of your men made sure that they would distract you if the other one was on a mission and came home late. Of course, they understood why you acted like that; it was weird to have one of you not in bed at night or missing at the table during meals. Even watching television was different if one of them was on a mission — which didn't happen often anymore.

But after the last time you refused to leave the spot in the hallway unless you had to use the bathroom, Steve took you shopping this time. And luckily, he managed to get your mind off of the fact that Bucky could be injured when he came home. Even though you seemed distracted, Steve felt a little restless; he knew you felt the same, but he just hoped the decoration was distracting enough for you. Little did he know that you hoped the same for him, because deep down, you wanted to return home to make sure that Bucky was fine once he came home. But you tried to calm yourself; Bucky could call you once he was home, and he could take care of himself for a bit too. Plus, he sometimes even enjoyed having a moment just for himself after some missions.

When you had some items you wanted and were happy with, you and Steve made your way back home. It was just a short walk, but the later it got, the colder it was. You were shivering, and Steve's strong arm around your waist and his muscular body pressed against your side didn't help much to warm you up. “You know, my tooth...” you chuckled softly, moving them inside your shoes even though you didn't really feel them because of the cold anymore. “They are pretty cold. Guess they would fall off if I bumped them.”

“Then we get you home pretty fast. Don't want your toes to fall off. Bucky wouldn't like that either," Steve joked, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your hair. The two of you didn't talk much; there was no need. It was just the closeness to one another, the happiness and love that you felt whenever you were close to your boyfriends. So you just walked quietly along the streets with him, the sky slowly darkening, and you were glad you were almost home already.

After a few more minutes of walking, you finally walked into the warm house. It was almost a burning feeling on your skin, and you hissed softly. Steve had to shove you into the house, or else you would probably have walked backwards and out of the warmth back into the cold. He chuckled behind you, his calloused hands holding you by your waist before pushing you further into the hallway so he was able to close the door behind you.

“It's warm, isn't it? Maybe it’s because you're surrounded by such hot men.” Steve laughed softly, taking your jacket, before he took off his own jacket and shoes. You narrowed your eyes when you walked further into your house, looking around to find Bucky. You were sure he was home; his shoes were in the hallway where they belonged. But instead of your boyfriend coming immediately to greet the two of you, he was nowhere to be seen. Steve's voice interrupted your thoughts before you could even start to worry. “Maybe he's in the bedroom; he loves showers after a mission. While you look for him, I'm gonna make some hot chocolate for us.”

You nodded, pecking Steve's lips softly, before you turned away to walk to your shared bedroom. You didn't hear any noises, neither the shower nor Bucky looking through the wardrobe to find something comfortable to wear. You tried as best as you could to not worry about him. Bucky was sometimes pretty quiet, especially after missions. It was almost like he had to get used to home again to know he wasn't on a mission any longer.

The door of your bedroom was almost closed, but you saw a little part of the bed, the small bedside table, and a hint of something else — feet. Or it was more the toes that were curled, like they were the only part that was holding him grounded. You pushed the door open, looking to the side where Bucky was sitting. Your eyes widened as you saw him curled up into himself. His knees were pressed against his chest, his hands properly bruising his skin already, while his eyes were unfocused. Bucky was just staring into the air with a fearful expression on his handsome face.

You slowly walked closer to him, unsure what to do. Sweat was running down his forehead; even his hair was sweaty, and his clothes were stuck to him like a second skin — soaked in sweat. You're not sure how long he was sitting there like that; his teeth gritted, his jaw clenched, and you noticed his other muscles being more visible than usual through his clothes. Bucky was tense like he was still in a fight, and in a certain way he was — but instead of fighting against some people like Hydra, he was fighting his own battle with himself, with his fear in his mind.

“Bucky?” You asked softly, your voice just above a whisper when you kneeled down in front of him. There was still some distance, so he wasn't able to reach you if he would punch or kick. You have seen Steve in such situations with Bucky before; he had to take the one or another punch already — which caused Bucky to feel even more guilty after. But Steve always assured him that it's not as bad as it looks and that it would never change anything about the way he feels for Bucky or sees his boyfriend. And even though he never hurt you, Bucky was always sorry that you had to see him struggling so much with his nightmares and flashbacks from the past — you never judged him; you only loved him more when he couldn't love himself.

Bucky didn't react when you called him by his name. His fingers only tightened around his legs. You wanted to reach out, but you know you shouldn't. Bucky once had his hand around Steve's throat the moment his fingertips brushed along his lover's leg. And you knew Steve was stronger than you; he had struggled to get the other super soldier off of him, so you were pretty sure Bucky would crash you before you could even call for Steve. And both told you to never call Steve for help; they trust and love you, but they were too worried about you — and Bucky would never be okay with himself again if he would hurt you. And you understood it.

After another time calling him by his name but getting no answer, you sigh softly. Tears slowly formed in his eyes, rolling down his cheeks, and everything inside of you screamed to wipe them away, to pull him into you, but you were too afraid to scare him even more. So, you decided to make the only thing that came as an alternative solution to your mind — Steve.

From the time you walked into the bedroom to the moment you got up to walk to the door and shout for Steve, only a few minutes passed. But for you, it felt like at least twenty minutes, not being able to help Bucky and not wanting to leave his side while you tried to come up with something that could help without Steve's help.

You opened the door of your shared bedroom a bit more, looking out into the hallway. “Steve!” You shouted, earning immediately a soft ‘Yes.’ from him. He was still making the hot chocolate, but he was worried the moment you shouted his name instead of coming into the kitchen with Bucky. “I—I need you here. Or Bucky needs you... WE NEED YOU.”

Steve would have chuckled about your wording, but he knew that this wasn’t a situation to laugh about. He immediately turned off everything that could burn. His footsteps were loud and heavy when he walked to your shared bedroom. He noticed you looking out of the door, narrowing his eyes when he didn't see Bucky close to you. The big grump was actually holding you close, hugging, carrying, or kissing you the whole time. But right now, it was only you who waited for him to come to the bedroom.

"Where's Buck? Are you okay? Did he… What's wrong?” Steve asked, not even letting you a moment to answer. You brought your hand to his cheek, stroking it softly before giving him a slight, soft smile. He knew you didn't feel like you tried to show, but he knew you did it to calm the two of you down. It wouldn't help any of you to freak out or be more worried. After a moment, you take your hand away, taking a step to the side, and letting Steve walk into the room.

“He doesn't react when I talk to him. I-I don't know what I can do, but you... You trailed off, watching Steve's eyes widen as he saw your boyfriend looking like a lost puppy. You watched him walk over to Bucky, pulling you with him before Steve pushed you to sit down on the bed, and he kneeled down in front of Bucky. Steve was way closer than you were earlier, and you pulled your knees up, hugging them while you watched your boyfriends intensely. “You know what to do, right?”

Steve nodded, smiling softly. He turned his head back to Bucky, placing his hand on the brown-haired man's knees. Bucky hissed; his metal hand shot up to place a punch into Steve's pretty face, but he caught Bucky's hand. Steve held Bucky's hand tightly, trying to force his hand back down, and after a moment it even worked. You watched them with slightly parted lips; when did Steve find out how to catch Bucky's hand — especially his metal hand?

“Buck, it's me. It's Steve. You're home; do you hear me?” Steve asked, his voice soft. He ran his thick fingers slowly up and down the side of Bucky's thigh. He leaned a bit closer; his other hand was still holding Bucky's metal hand, and you wonder if Bucky was trying to punch him with his other hand but he didn't. “You're home, with me and our princess. You know, your babydoll.”

Bucky gasped softly, his eyes wider than before. His hands made grabbing motions, and Steve smiled softly, feeling Bucky being less tense than he was just a moment ago. Steve let go of his boyfriend's metal hand, using his hand to wipe away some sweat from Bucky's forehead.

“Hi, Buck,” he chuckled. Bucky slowly calmed down, noticing his surroundings. Bucky was slowly letting go of his legs, stretching them slowly between Steve's legs while his head fell forward against Steve's shoulder. “You're home; we are home. We got ya. Scared our princess a bit.”

“My babydoll?” Bucky's voice was hoarse and quiet, but Steve understood him anyway. He slowly nodded, caressing Bucky wet strands. Steve then turned his head to you, nodding at Bucky and mouthing that he just asked for you before he even asked anything else. “My babydoll, my Stevie.”

“We’re here, Buck. Do you want her to come closer as well, or do you need a moment?” Steve asked softly. He knew — you both knew — that Bucky was still pretty shaken up and that he could use some time to calm down or that he needed to feel the two of you, to smell the two of you, and to see the two of you to calm down completely.

Since the brown-haired man didn't really trust his voice, he only lifted his hand, making a grabby hand into the direction of the bed where you were still sitting. His other hand was interlaced with Steves, holding him close to Bucky. You slowly moved down from the bed; your knees were cracking softly when you stretched them out, and Steve laughed softly.

“Thought we were old, but you're cracking just like we do,” he told you, smirking before he moved a bit to the side to make space for you in front of Bucky. You rolled your eyes, moving closer to Bucky, but before you could have even said anything or moved another inch, he pulled you into his lap. You were straddling his thick thighs, your chest pressed against his.

Bucky hid his face in the crock of your neck, pulling Steve against his side so the two of you — the two people he loved the most, who meant everything to him — were as close as possible to him. After a moment of comfortable silence, he lifted his head. He was still sweaty, but his ocean blue eyes were brightened, and the sparkle you and Steve loved so much were visible again. A soft smile was tugging at Bucky's lips, causing you to smile as well. He leaned closer, pecking your lips before he did the same with Steve, sighing softly.

“Hi,” he chuckled, resting his head on your shoulder once again. “Missed you two. Do I smell hot chocolate?”

Both you and Steve laughed softly. When it came to hot chocolate, especially with marshmallows, you had to be faster than Bucky, or else he — accidentally — drank everything before you even reached the kitchen.

“Mhm, it’s probably cold again, but I can warm it up while you get a shower, sweaty,” Steve teased, using the nickname on purpose instead of ‘sweety’. Bucky rolled his eyes, growling softly, but he then nodded. Steve wasn't wrong; he felt like he had already taken a shower, but this time with his own sweat. “We got some marshmallows, and our princess got a lot of decorations.”

You nodded; your eyes lit up as you opened your mouth to start and explain what you got and why you got it. Bucky chuckled, loving your excitement. But he wanted you to show him and explain it while the three of you would be sitting wrapped up in a blanket on the couch with hot chocolate and marshmallows. So he pressed his lips onto yours before you could even start to tell him more about it.

“But I'm taking my babydoll to take a shower with me,” Bucky grumbled, and there he was again. Your Bucky, the love of your and Steve’s lives who never let go of you, who needed to be close to you, needed to kiss you and just show you all the love and affection. Of course, he did the same with Steve too, but he had another task, so it was you who was going to join him in the shower. “Plus, need her to wash my hair. Feels so much better when she massages the shampoo into my hair with her soft hands.”

“Of course you do,” Steve chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to Bucky and then your forehead before he got up to get the chocolate ready. Bucky opened his mouth, but Steve turned around, smirking at him. “Yeah, with as many marshmallows as you wish, my majesty.”

“Good boy.” Bucky grinned at Steve, who suddenly blushed and turned away. “Mission completed, making Stevie blush. Now, my next mission is to get you into the shower with me. Mhm, missed you. I love you so much, babydoll. And you too, Steve, I know you're standing in the hallway.”

“I love you too,” you say in unison with Steve, who then made his way down the hallway back to the kitchen. Bucky got up, keeping you in his arms before he walked with you to the bathroom, getting the two of you into the shower. It wasn't just cleaning him; it was a lot more Bucky being possessive and touch-starved, and you were his solution — you were gladly his way to get touches and be happy when it meant kisses, hugs, soft touches, and all the compliments you loved so much to hear from your boyfriends.

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[seeingivy]

girl i've always been

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my dream girl fic

previous part linked here

songs mentioned: girl i've always been by olivia rodrigo and state of grace by taylor swift

--

--

sukuna very desperately wishes that he had a better sense of judgment. about three things specifically. 

first and foremost – he wished that he hadn’t let you walk off the night prior. he was filled with irritation, because he should have been smart enough to ask for your number. or question you farther to parse out where you were going to be next so he could meet you there. 

second – he wished that he had made a more productive use of the night that followed. that instead of listening to your entire discography and watching every interview he could find, he should have slept through the night. 

the pursuit only made him more irritated with every interview he watched, because he grew more curious the more he found out. 

there were a few things that were obvious to him. that you never went down without a fight, that your fans weren’t short of support for you, that you were cemented as someone who made major moves in the industry – without the help of previous connections like most people. 

but other things were entirely lost to him. like the fact that you used to be so close with kim and aimee at one point but they had never brought you up. that you never stood down to a fight, despite losing greatly at times. that there was some part of the image that you put out that he didn’t necessarily understand. 

yet. 

and third – he wished he hadn’t forgotten that one of his biggest pr interviews was going to be the next day. 

he was at almost zero energy and the cameras littered around the bar of the coffee shop were starting to stress him out. only because this was the last interview that he wanted to tweak out at. 

sukuna cracks his knuckles three, four times.

it’s only two hours. and drinks that he had made hundreds of times. 

“are you good?” yuuji asks. 

“yeah. just slept late last night.” sukuna responds. 

yuuji squints his eyes at him. 

“yeah i heard you. what were you doing?” yuuji asks. 

“just listening to music. was finding it hard to fall asleep.” sukuna responds. 

“mijo, you never change, do you?” 

sukuna turns the corner to find the source of the voice, only to find alina with a hand propped up on her hip, the features of her face all scrunched up and prepared to scold him, and freddie lingering behind trying not to laugh. 

if there was one thing that freddie hated, it was getting scolded by his mother. by proxy, watching someone else be the aim of her wrath filled him with the utmost joy. 

sukuna worked three jobs in high school. he got fired from the first two (a car garage where he assisted the mechanics and a dishwasher at a high end restaurant) and got very close to it with the third, which was being a barista at alina’s coffee shop, play coffee. 

he’s not sure what it was that kept alina from firing him – something he was convinced was a mix of pity and the soft spot she seemed to have for him – because he most certainly deserved to be fired. 

he couldn’t make the most popular drink, the lavender matcha, during rush hour and seemed to make things worse just by being around. he was less of an asset and more of a problem that persisted. 

but somehow, he’d spent the last ten years of his life keeping the coffee shop running by helping her make drinks (the ones he could actually make) or watching freddie in the back room when he was younger. 

more notably, he’d saved them from getting evicted from the building with the first paycheck he got from his acting job. 

it was only when he claimed that it was an investment that she gave in to such a hefty favor, which was followed by her cementing his name on the wall with yuuji’s as one of the co-owners. 

that and the fact that she had to give in, because yuuji and sukuna had already paid it behind her back. she thought it was too much. but to sukuna, he was just repaying a long standing favor. 

a true investment it was because sukuna was dedicated to getting the name out and bringing in more business whenever he could. which included today – an interview that he was doing for vanity fair while covering the morning rush at the coffee shop as part of the pr before the premiere of the show. 

“someone has to keep you on your toes, alina.” sukuna responds. 

it earns him a snort from freddie, who gets a consequent glare from alina, before she turns back to him and crosses her arms over her chest. 

“keep me on my toes? more like keeping me ten feet from my deathbed. do you know how much you stress me out?” alina asks. 

sukuna shrugs, ignoring the question, because he knows that he would hate the answer. he hated giving her more stress than she needed.

he makes his best efforts to divert away from that conversation, only because he knows he’s not even awake enough to deal with getting read to filth so early in the morning. 

“do you happen to know the dates for your graduation yet freddie?” sukuna asks. 

freddie glares at him. 

it makes his stomach lurch, thinking about him wearing a dark blue high school graduation gown and going to college a few months from now, when all he can remember is freddie biting him when he was trying to rangle him out of the car for the first day of third grade. 

“it’s september, dude. how would i know the dates already?” he responds, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

sukuna glares right back. he was getting just as snippy as alina. like mother like son he supposed. 

“okay fine. i’ll just retract the car i was planning on buying for you.” 

freddie’s eyes widen. he can already sense the immediate switch up. 

“you were going to buy me a car?” freddie asks. 

“going to. but you’ve got such a shit attitude that i’m reconsidering it.” sukuna responds. 

“cuidado con tus palabras! fuiste criado por lobos?” alina scolds. 

alina scuttles away to the other end of the bar to arrange the cups, as sukuna and freddie stifle down a laugh. 

“wolves? that means wolves right?” yuuji whispers. 

freddie shakes his head. 

“she gets more dramatic as time goes on. me wanting to move to new york doesn’t help either.” freddie responds. 

freddie was in the process of applying to colleges. three weeks ago, sukuna got an hour long run down from yuuji – that alina and freddie were in the midst of a big fight about him wanting to apply to colleges on the east coast and on the east coast only. 

safe to say that alina didn’t take it well. at all. he could feel the animosity lingering in the air from the way that they were glaring at one another. 

alina shortly returns and gives the two of them a look, before passing one of the freshly baked scones over to yuuji. it was a long standing tradition, to taste test the pastries for the day before the shop opened, and alina always showed her bias by letting yuuji take the first one. 

“none for us?” sukuna asks, wrapping his free arm around freddie’s shoulder. 

“maybe if you earned it.” alina responds. 

“and what did yuuji do to earn a scone? he’s been sitting on his ass all day.” freddie responds. 

alina shakes her head, before reaching forward to pinch yuuji’s cheek. 

“amor de mi vida, he’s always so sweet. the two of you should be taking notes. talking about staying up all night and sueños de new york.” alina responds, before walking away again. 

sukuna and freddie parse a glare for yuuji, who only smiles at the two of them gloatingly. 

“i can give lessons. you two have a lot to learn.” yuuji responds. 

“hilarious.” sukuna responds. 

“by the way, you don’t have to worry about the car. he’s just pulling your leg, we already bought it for your birthday.” yuuji responds. 

freddie widens her eyes, an excited smile spreading across his face as she looks up at sukuna, waiting for confirmation. he all but rolls his eyes, before yanking the key from his pocket. 

“did you really buy me a car?” he asks. 

“have to give it to you early since we’ll be in new york for premiere stuff next week.” yuuji responds. 

“senior year and all. have to drive there and go hang out with all your little friends, don’t you?” sukuna asks. 

freddie wraps him in a harsh hug, almost borderline painful, before scuttling over to yuuji’s side and doing the same. sukuna presses the key into his hand, letting yuuji show him the pictures on his phone, before shuffling over to the other side of the bar to where alina’s arranging the cups, to do some damage control. 

“you don’t have to worry about me. or freddie and his new car. you should worry about yuuji. and how hopeless he is.” sukuna jokes. 

sukuna can tell that she doesn’t find it funny. that freddie’s immediate excitement is something that worries her. 

“i should worry. about all of you. you can’t even put your shirt on the right way. you’d walk face first into the street if i didn’t worry about you.” she responds, tugging on the back of his shirt. 

sukuna lifts his hand to the back of his shirt, feeling the tag, as he feels his cheeks warm at being called out. he pulls the shirt over his head, readjusting it to the right way as she continues rambling. 

“yuuji is hopeless when it comes to love. pero, at least he’s sensible in the ways that matter. you and freddie, you think too much with your hearts. get a little reckless, too excited. yo pienso que you love him but he’s not responsible enough to take care of a car! and i’m going to call whoever is paying you because you should be more responsible with your money instead of buying him whatever he wants!” 

sukuna heaves a sigh. 

“creo que estas atacando porque no quieres que se mueva.” sukuna mutters. 

alina pinches her eyes shut. 

“of course i don’t want him to move away! do you know how far new york is?” 

“i’ll buy you a private jet. you can go see him whenever you want.” sukuna responds. 

alina reaches for the closest towel and smacks him with it. 

“you’re not funny. and he’s too young to move out there on her own. and you….you have some nerve saying yuuji’s hopeless in love. you’re even worse! don’t think i didn’t see what they were saying about you on the news two days ago.” she responds. 

sukuna rolls his eyes, before reaching forward and placing his hands on both of her shoulders. he squeezes hard, noting the stressed wrinkles that are imprinted into her forehead at this point, as he shoots her a smile. 

it’s moments like this where he feels bad for being reckless. when he’s reminded of the fact that he’s not the only one affected by his actions. 

“you should take things one day at a time. taking on so much does nothing for you, mi amor.” sukuna responds, mimicking her voice. 

“don’t repeat my words back to me.” she responds. 

“it’s good advice. you should take it. maybe worry less about freddie and new york and just focus on making sure he takes good care of the car and learns some responsibility. and yuuji is my responsibility, so i’m working on that.” sukuna responds. 

alina rolls her eyes. 

“and who’s going to work on you? you need some serious help too.” 

“i have to keep you in a job, one way or another.” he responds. 

sukuna hears the bell against the door ringing, accompanied by loud voices that he can instantly recognize. he watches as satoru, suguru, shoko, megumi, and nobara all stand at the front of the cash register, animated hands moving as they talk to yuuji and eye all the cameras. 

“which one is the boy?” 

“spiky hair.” yuuji responds. 

alina tilts her head to the side. 

“really? esto?” 

“trust me. he’s just as hopeless as yuuji. i think they’re made for each other.” sukuna whispers. 

sukuna pushes up off the counter and joins them at the register, trying to catch the end of their conversation. 

“sukuna and i have to sit out but we’d love to come.” yuuji states. 

“you’re no fun. it’s going to be such a great performance.” gojo whines. 

“plus, she’s like way more famous than all of us combined. it would be a good look for the show if we all go together.” shoko adds. 

“sit out of what?” sukuna asks. 

nobara turns over to him, a hand popped up on her hip. 

“megumi invited us to go watch y/n’s tiny desk performance with him. she told him that he could bring whoever he wanted since she knows about promotion for the show and all that and we’re all going so we can watch gojo shit his pants from excitement.” 

sukuna can feel his heart hammering in his chest. like it’s fate. 

like the stars are aligning in his favor, a clear cut sign from the universe that something was going to happen. that things were going to go his way. 

he looks back over at gojo, noting the tour merchandise shirts that he had seen on your website only hours prior, and feels his stomach lurch with excitement. 

at the opportunity. 

“i’m going.” sukuna responds. 

“what?” yuuji asks. 

sukuna shakes his head, almost too adamantly, as he reaches to unlock the cash register, now ready to speed through the interview and run over there right now. 

“we’re going.” sukuna repeats. 

“what about freddie’s car?” yuuji states. 

“we’ll drive it over afterwards. but pr is important and you know people will talk, so we should go.” sukuna whispers. 

yuuji narrows his eyes at him. 

“shouldn’t you be lying low? what if shoyo gets mad?” yuuji whispers. 

sukuna almost gets mad. at the thought of being stamped out of the opportunity in front of him. it’s why he responds so harshly. 

“you’re acting like i’m going to give an interview while i’m there. we’re just going to listen to her sing and leave.” sukuna seethes, convinced that the urgent tone is almost giving him away entirely. 

yuuji shrugs. but at the end, he gives in. and there’s a newfound energy as sukuna prepares to make drinks for the next two hours. 

--

--

the rest of the day, right up until he’s sitting in the front row seat waiting for you to come out, feels like a blur. he can barely remember the drive over, when his interview at the coffee shop ended, whatever it was that satoru was blabbing about in the car, because the sheer anticipation of possibility of a conversation was driving him insane. 

sukuna hadn’t exactly noted it yet, but he was too attached to the plan that he had dreamt up when he met you the night prior. maybe even obsessed with it, but that felt like it was a little on the nose. 

there was something extremely tantalizing and intoxicating about the thought – about getting revenge on aimee for tainting his good name so close to his show without having to do it himself, by getting a group of fans ready to rally behind him in the efforts that were being made to smear his name, and most importantly, getting to be around you and your snippy retorts you had offered him the night prior. 

it was making him sick to his stomach, thinking of all the different ways he could approach the prospect. singling out the best way to present it to you. thinking of all the mouthy responses that you’d give him in response. 

how does he get your phone number? he has to make sure that he finds out where you’re going next to make sure that if today doesn’t work out in his favor, he gets another chance to talk to you again. 

would he rub salt in the wound by bringing up your past with kim and aimee? or would that push your right over the edge into agreeing with him? there was clearly some vitriol there, if they were able to digress from dragging him under the bus to do it to you instead. 

and most importantly.

is his plan even viable? is it insulting for him to propose that you write fake songs about him to help his public image? surely there was nothing that you would gain from it, so was it even a legitimate thing for him to ask? 

the hours of research that he had done last night made it feel like he had a crystal clear image of what he needed to do. but the courage and bravery that he was feeling last night was dwindling close to almost nothing when he knew that you were only a few walls away, that he was subject to your mercy when it came to this entire thing. 

he thinks that the lack of sleep, coupled with the slight delusions that he’s entertaining at the current moment, are going to bite him in the ass.  

it’s right at that moment when he hears a clapping as you walk out onto the set, a purple guitar in your hand as you take a seat at the main stage. he can hear his heart beating in his ears, automatically stretching up in his seat as he watches you tuck your hair behind your ears and wave at the crowd in front of you. 

“hi guys! how are we doing today?” you ask, leaning into the microphone. 

there’s a resounding sound of cheers, one that you give a big smile to, as you press your hands to your chest to stop the beating. 

the facts are running through sukuna’s head. the purple guitar is the same one that you use on your tour. when you tour. the silver ring on your pointer finger is one that a fan gifted to you in lisbon. you learned how to play piano when you were five. 

“for those of you who are new here, i’m y/n. i’m so so flattered that npr invited me here to sing a few songs for you. i’m so excited to show you some of the new stuff i’ve been working on and play some old ones while i’m ahead. but yeah –” 

sukuna watches as you pause mid-sentence. he watches as you pause, almost in confusion, to the point where you stop talking. 

correction. 

sukuna watches as you pause mid-sentence at the exact moment that the two of you make eye contact. that you’re confused at his presence, that you recognize him, that it’s enough to warrant a pause. 

it sends a wave of elation through sukuna as he lifts his hand, giving you a polite wave from his seat, one that he watches you graciously return, with a sweet smile, before looping the strap of your guitar over your neck. 

sukuna pretends that it doesn’t make his heart swell up in hope, that he had elicited a reaction from you. that you returned the wave that he offered you. that this could go his way, in the slightest. 

“well, right. this first song is a new one that i’ve been working on. i wrote it around a few days ago after i went to this stupid afterparty from one of the events that my studio was holding and it’s about some of the company i’ve kept. it’s called girl i’ve always been.” you state.

"Baby doll, you have changed" That's the thing you always say Cursin' me, trash my name I rained all over your parade Now you're on my couch, you're fightin' tears You say I'm cruel beyond my years And as I'm walkin' out that door Say you don't know me anymore

sukuna quickly realizes that there’s something about singing that does it for you. because your entire demeanor changes. you relax your shoulders from the tense position they’re usually in, swing your hips to the beat of the song, and make very expressive facial expressions that seem even more lively than the videos he had watched all night. 

you seem electric. 

Well, I have captors I call friends I got panic rooms inside my head And I get down with crooked men But I am the girl I've always been I got wrapped up in the game again And you woke up in an empty bed And I can't say I'm a perfect ten But I am the girl I've always been 

“holy shit. i know jake’s somewhere shitting his pants over this.” nobara murmurs. 

“that’s what that dumbass gets for airing out that she wouldn’t have sex with him. like that’s something he’s entitled to.” megumi responds back. 

“an idiot like that probably thinks that he’s entitled to everything.” nobara responds. 

sukuna can feel his ears burning. his chest heaving – because there’s too much information, because he doesn’t know what to do with all of it – but he knows that it's important. that he could use it the way he needed, if he worded it right. 

jake was the guy from last night. he was friends with aimee, maybe a little too close with aimee, who you clearly weren’t fond of either. and if there was one thing that aimee was, it was possessive. jealous. angry when she felt that things weren’t going her way. 

that’s why she was so pissed when he ended it with her, since he was the one who had the upper hand. clearly she’d be even more mad if he retreated to the place that she hated the most – right into your arms. 

it almost feels like time is moving too fast, that his thoughts are plaguing the current moment, because before he knows it there’s a resounding sound of clapping, coupled with you leaving through the door on the left. 

he hadn’t even solidified what he wanted to say yet. 

sukuna’s not sure what wills him to act so quickly, but without saying anything to the group of them, he darts behind you and enters through the door, only to be welcomed to a darkly lit hallway and no sign of you. 

there’s a confusing mix of signs that are littered on the wall, none of which give him any aid towards finding the direction you went in, as he takes a sharp left turn and starts speeding across the plastic tiled floors. 

how could you have disappeared so fast? did he even go in the right direction? 

sukuna counts his lucky stars, because not even four doors down, he finds a paper tacked to the room, your name embellished in sparkly letters and glittering graphics as he reaches for the handle and opens the door. 

this was his chance. to spill it all out. 

his heart pounds as he opens the door, but much to his dismay, he finds the room empty and sans your presence. 

what the hell was he supposed to do now? 

but he takes the quiet moments to stake his claim, only because he figures – he hopes – that you’ll return here at some point as he takes a seat in the chair at the side. and even if you don’t, your belongings might have to give him some clue. at the very least, he could leave his phone number in here and pray that someone would return it to you. 

he’s drawn first to the vanity, the one that he figures you were sitting at only hours prior when you were getting ready for the performance. there’s an array of makeup spread across the table, a handwritten note at the top of the box. 

you’re a doll! good luck on your performance - mimi

your producer. the one that he had seen in the interviews, that you stated was like your sister. he categorizes the thought in his mind, trying to commit it’s importance to his memory. 

the next thing that catches his attention is a picture that’s tacked to the mirror on the left. 

he steals it off the glass, treasuring the image in his fingers, as he looks at it up close. he can recognize everyone in the picture – eren, mikasa, and historia – your self proclaimed friends that you talked about in almost every interview and megumi attached to your side on the right. 

he figures that you must be younger here, only because you look so different. your hair longer than it was currently, the smile on your face smaller than he’s ever seen it. he flips it over, noting the handwriting in the back, in each of the four corners. 

you’re the best friend i’ve ever had - mikasa 

my idol, always - historia 

the one and only love of my life (derogatory) - megumi 

cheering you on forever, star girl! - eren 

it only confuses him more, the premise of each of the messages. star girl means that it had to be recent, because your album had only come out a few months ago. then how could you look so different only a little while back? unless the picture was older? 

why you would feel inclined to tack it to the glass if you were only going to be here for a few hours. what did megumi mean by his statement? 

sukuna can feel his heart drop to the pit of his stomach as he hears the door swing open, coupled with the sight of you in the mirror, with a confused look plastered on your face. 

like a deer caught in headlights. 

“are you stalking me, princess bubblegum?” you ask. 

sukuna immediately drops the picture onto the vanity, turning around to find you standing there, a cup of iced coffee in your hand as you give him a sly smile. he lets out a nervous laugh, only at getting caught so blatantly.  

“just a very big fan, marceline.” he responds. 

you cross your hands over your chest, narrowing your eyes at him. 

“you weren’t even singing along.” you state. 

sukuna grins. 

“were you watching me?” 

“the pink hair is abhorrent. it’s almost hard not to.” you state. 

“most people are into the pink hair thing. it’s one of a kind, you know? and in my defense, two of those songs were new. i’m learning.” sukuna clarifies. 

you widen your eyes. he was too obvious. he was trying to be too obvious. 

“seems like someone’s been doing his homework.” you state. 

“i’m somewhat of an overachiever.” he responds. 

you push past him, taking a seat at the chair in the center of the vanity, and set the drink that megumi had got to you to the left. sukuna takes it as an invitation to invade your space, his hands braced against both of the armrests of his chair, his cheek lingering against your shoulder. 

“i made the drink for you, you know?” sukuna asks. 

“i have a sneaking suspicion that you didn’t know it was for me.” you state. 

“if i did, i would have written you a little note on the cup. i only do that for girls who are special, you know?” 

you roll your eyes. 

“and what did i do to gain such favor in your eyes?” 

sukuna smiles at you through the mirror. 

“i find you impressive. i’m entirely fascinated by how you work and i…i want to know more. i have a feeling that you and i could be very useful to each other.” 

you set the glass down on the vanity. 

“i’m guessing you didn’t just insist on showing up to my tiny desk, despite the fact that you were supposed to giving someone a car? for nothing. was there something you wanted from me? because i’d rather you be straightforward and say it to me instead of speaking in tongues.” you state. 

sukuna clicks his tongue in his cheek. megumi must have told you – surely you couldn’t be that good at predicting everything. 

“perceptive. are you always like this, princess?” sukuna asks. 

“does that bother you? it’s something you’ll have to get used to.” you ask. 

“quite the contrary. i enjoy a challenge.” 

you hum, twisting the plastic of the straw in your fingers. 

“really. what do you want?” you ask. 

sukuna nods, before crossing the way and leaning against the edge of your vanity at your side. 

“i think that you and i could be really useful to each other. i know that you’re not particularly fond of aimee, of jake and all of his bullshit, and i’m not either. that and the fact that she blocked you from getting the number one spot when you clearly had the better song.” 

sukuna watches your eye twitch. he’s found the soft spot. the thing that irritates you.

losing.

“your show is about to get tanked by whatever it is she has coming next.” you retort back. 

sukuna grins. he’s got you exactly where he wants you. you wouldn't get defensive if it didn't bother you.

“you know about my show? have you been stalking me?” 

you feel your cheeks burn. 

“because of megumi, sweetheart. nothing more nothing less.” 

sukuna feels his chest pang slightly, from the embarrassment. because of course you know about the show from megumi. 

“right, well. seriously. it would really piss them off if you started dating me, even if it was just for looks. what they don’t know won’t hurt them.” 

you sigh, pushing off the edge of your chair, as you stand close to him. and you’re able to smell it again, the minty musk, as you give him a smile. 

“i know that you know aimee. i don’t give a fuck about jake, but i do know that people who are as egotistical as that tend to get possessive. especially about things that aren’t theirs. and as scathing as your songs are, there’s one surefire way to piss them both off – to get two birds with one stone.” 

you ponder over the thought. and sink into your chair about how much he’s thought about this, caught off guard by the fact that he’s got it entirely on the nose. 

but you can’t. you need time to think. you don’t even know who he is. 

“i appreciate the offer. but, i’m not interested in getting tangled up with them again.” you state. 

“they started it already. you don’t want to bite back?” sukuna goads, leaning in closer to your cheek.  

“i’m not the type.” you respond. 

sukuna pauses. 

“from what i’ve seen, i don’t necessarily think that's true.” 

“do you think you’ve got me all figured out, sukuna?” you ask. 

he loves the way his mouth rolls off your tongue and the accusatory tone in your voice when you say it. like you’re trying to get him to take the bait, like the two of you are playing a game. 

and he leans closer, smiling down at you as he wraps he cups your cheek with his left hand, before pinching at your cheek. 

“i’m almost positive that i do.” he responds. 

and he’s quick with it, reaching forward and tucking the stray strands of your hair behind your ear, before reaching for your hand, and scribbling something onto your palm.

you only look down at your hand when he retreats, his phone number inked on your hand. 

“either way, you know where to find me if you change your mind.” he states, before slamming the door shut behind him. 

you think about it. think about it all night, the way his hand felt against your cheek, the warmth in his smile, why you even saved the number in the first place.

would it even make sense to help him? would they really be so mad the way that he anticipated?

the thoughts rumble through your mind , over and over, until something pushes you over the edge, right into his hand. 

[hisu]: SOS CHECK TWITTER 

[hisu]: WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP 

[hisu]: AIMEE STOLE YOUR SONG

--

--

next part linked here

an: anyways.

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[apt502-if]

Hi!! I just recently discovered your game and i have a question abt A. What makes the mc different from the other ppl that have tried to break down A’s walls. Like did they not try hard enough/were not patient or were they pushy? I’m js curious of what makes mc special.

I love the game and would definitely wait for the next update!! Thank you! 😊

Living with A for starters :P It's forced proximity a little. A usually pushes people away and keeps their distance so MC being around all the time means A actually gets to know them.

Secondly, A sees themself in MC because of Rainn. They have a soft spot for MC because of that. That affection A does not want to have grows bigger and bigger no matter how hard they fight :P

There's more and it's a combination of other things but I'd rather keep that for the story.

Thank you :> Coming soon!

[a-dinosaur-a-day]

Enough about real dinosaurs. Do you have a favourite dinosaur species that we're not sure actually exists/existed? Because of a lack of evidence so far, or because it might be the same as a different species, or any other reason

I mean spec evo isn't really my thing because my mind gets overwhelmed with the possibilities

there are tons of dinosaurs we'll never know about because they never fossilized, either through bad luck or living in habitats where fossilization is near impossible

but I have a soft spot for all the dinosaurs from Illinois (my home state) we'll never know about because a GLACIER FUCKING STOLE THEM

[sunniques]

hey gorg, morning<3

Had this thought and I think you can match my freak and maybe add a little to my delulu or like give me a prompt? I am a sucker of how u write, love your blog so much hehe. So, can you picture stepbro Mingyu and stepbro Wonwoo. Both of them bulky af, since the first moment their dad introduced them to you and your mom they’d be picturing and having the nastiest and sluttiest thoughts, corruption kink, size kink. Even breeding kink with the most dirty talk. Like, the most horny and indecent scenes and scenarios, from the first time your mom and their dad let you with them to get to know better, on your parents wedding and almost everytime they have the chance after that, fucking you senseless and teasing you about being caught and fucking you on the most inappropriate moments when you are at a 99% risk of getting caught. And if we get even nastier, Dad (not quite sure who dad could be) caughts them once and ends up joining…

If it’s too much that’s okay though, you don’t need to answer this. I think ‘m ovulating 😭

Btw, Can I be anon 🦊? Have a good day!

of course i’m going to match your freak that’s what i’m here for! this concept is to die for and maaan do i have thoughts 👀 that emoji is all yours 🩷

Picturing brothers Mingyu and Wonwoo just sharing a look after they meet you because they know you’re going to be their new little fucktoy. So, Mingyu gets you first because Wonwoo has a soft spot for his little brother, and Mingyu is a little less intimidating than he is. You get so caught up in Mingyu’s charms that you don’t feel guilty when you two share a kiss.

Until Wonwoo catches you two that is.

You get so shy and feel so dirty because that’s what Wonwoo calls you. A dirty girl. It’s sick because that sends a tingle to your pussy. What you don’t expect is for Wonwoo to give you a messy kiss of his own. That night the brothers share you, Wonwoo gets your pussy while Mingyu gets your mouth. Then they switch off, telling you how they’re going to stretch out your tiny little holes and breed them all night.

You love it. So fucking much.

Of course this leads to you fucking even when your parents are in the house. Mingyu always fingers you at the dinner table, and Wonwoo always fucks you in the shower in the bathroom that’s right down the hall from your parents’ bedroom. They’re both so nasty, always fucking you dumb when your parents say they’re on the way home.

“Hurry up and make us cum, sweetheart,” Wonwoo groans as he rams his cock into your ass. “Don’t want mommy and daddy to see you stuffed full of cock do you?”

You’re so corrupted and nasty at this point you moan that you don’t care if they do. Mingyu grins into your neck as you cream all over his cock. You hot cunt is so tight that he spills his cum into you before sloppily fucking it into you.

This is a constant cycle until one day you actually to get caught. Your mom is going on a business trip so your stepdad drives her to the airport. Obviously, minwon sees this as another opportunity to fuck you senseless. This time, they don’t count on their dad to actually make it back on time.

Your stepbrothers don’t stop using their holes once they see their dad standing at the doorway of their shared room. Seungcheol’s cock is hard, watching his cute little stepdaughter getting used like she’s nothing but a filthy cum slut.

“What’s going on?” He asks calmly, cock twitching when his sons finally pull out and your pretty holes leak with cum.

“Want a taste, dad?” Wonwoo grins deviously, knowing the answer.

That’s how you end up bouncing on your stepdad’s cock as your stepbrothers watch. Seungcheol is even rougher than his sons, and as he spears you open on his big cock, you can’t help but think the apples don’t fall far from the tree.

[slotumn]

In 3H canon, it's kind of taken for granted that Church sides with either Faerghus or Leicester. Leicester also gets treated as sidekick/allies to both Faerghus and Adrestia by canon and fanon; see the amount of combined BE+GD or BL+GD route works. And although it's much rarer than the others, I've even seen BE+BL combined route tag.

However, I think that a Church-Empire team-up route to conquer the other two nations would actually be very convincing in-universe politics wise, and convenient. If Edelgard wasn't as dead set on getting rid of the Church first, or if any other Adrestian emperor tried to re-conquer the rest of the continent at any point, I think allying with the Church and getting their blessing to do it would almost certainly have happened.

It's stated in-game that the Empire has grown distant from the Church as of late, but despite all that, Adrestian connection with the Church runs way deeper than other two countries. The nobles of Adrestia literally have the saints' Crests! If anybody could claim the legitimacy to being the truest and oldest believers, it's them. Plus Empire is still the largest and presumably the strongest nation in Fódlan, so the Church probably won't mind getting close to them again, either.

It wouldn't even take much for the Adrestian imperial heir to repair relations with the Church, too, especially if they go directly to Rhea. Rhea would have a soft spot for Wilhelm's descendants, so Edelgard or any other Hresvelg saying the Southern Church will be reopened might literally be all it takes to win her over.

Then the stuff like the Miklan incident can be used to accuse the Kingdom of not taking good care of Crests/Relics like they were meant to. The political disarray in Leicester can be used to accuse them of being unable to rule themselves. And if the Empire pays a bit of lipservice, swearing that they will retake those lands and rule justly under the guidance of the goddess as their founders did, the Church would probably give the stamp of approval and tell them to go for it.

Whether this alliance lasts or whether the Empire turns on the Church once the conquest is done and take all the power for themselves would depend on the emperor (if Edelgard is in charge, it would definitely be the latter).

But the prospect of a Church-Empire team up is actually way more politically plausible in-universe than fandom thinks imo.

[renhanaschewtoy]

Coworkers

FINALLY. I'm so sorry it took so long. All the chaos and junk really got the better of me. I hope y'all like this, I really tried. I can't wait to write more. Strade's Favorite Bartender will be next! 💚 NSFW MDNI

You’d always had a certain fondness for Lawrence you supposed. He was always the quiet guy at work, hesitant to ever really speak or have attention be directed his way. 

And it wasn’t like you’d bulldozed into his life either. 

It had started small, really. He was stronger than he looked and often you both shared shifts. You’d asked him a few times if he could help you move some things, speed up the task and he’d always given a little nod and followed you to do so. 

You wanted to bridge that gap, you bought some tea you kept in your locker, offering it to Lawrence on breaks. At first he just stared at you for a long moment before slowly giving a nod of his head, crystalline eyes directed anywhere but you. And then grabbing the sandwiches or other items from the corner Mart you saw him buy from time to time. You simply wanted Lawrence to feel appreciated in the warehouse. That you were grateful he helped you.

And it turned into routine after a little while.

Sharing breaks, eating together in the silence that was the wee hours of morning before the sun broke. Settled in the stale smelling break room or outside on the bench in the parking lot, side by side. You usually did most of the talking but from time to time, it was exciting to hear Lawrence talk. When he'd mention his plants, the most recent time he went on a trek through the park or on a hike, better was when he’d actually give you his opinion. Even if it was differing. If it weren’t for the occasional stutter or stammer, you’d reckon to say he’d have a rich voice. Dulcet to you, if you dare say so.

You gave him your number, just in case you switched shifts at work or something came up of course! Though that didn’t stop you from sending the occasional message asking how he was doing, or if you shared a shift a “have a good night! Oops, I mean morning!” sort of text. You wanted to endear yourself to Lawrence.

And you had.

You wormed your way under his skin and into his heart like vines of twisting ivy, you made it hard for Lawrence to breathe around you sometimes. The saccharine scent about you that was so alien, so absolutely opposite of damp rot and soil he’d become accustomed to. You were the fragrant bulbs of flowers he tried to nurture and fight the impulse to cut. You were soft, you were succulent in a way Lawrence didn’t understand like the occasional ones he had spotted around his apartment. Visions of you swam in his head at night in his bed, in the fog of his shower. Emboldened by the haze of burnt hash of a blunt that was discarded on the ashtray nearby. Lawrence wondered how you would feel…from the inside. How different you would feel from his hand. Water or lotion made do in a pinch when he’d fist himself to completion, more often than not he would grow frustrated after the clarity hit him.

“huff…huff…nngh…f-fuck…(Name)...” Water cascades down Lawrence’s pale body, head bowed with one hand braced against the cool tile wile the other hand stroked his weeping cock. You brushed up against him on more than one occasion today, he felt the soft warmth of your skin through your clothes, caught a peek of skin when you’d reach up high, Lawrence swore…goddamn it, he could hear the blood in your veins. Your hand brushed against his when you handed him a paper cup of some herbal tea you’d been so proud to prattle about hoping he’d like it. And he’d die before telling you that it was actually too sweet for his taste. But maybe that was you and your influence on the moment. Too sweet. His breathing grew ragged as his glacier eyes screwed shut, trying a slight twist of his wrist as Lawrence fisted his cock; reliving the encounters behind his eyelids.

The warm flush of your cheeks, he wondered how much blood could reach the apples of them…the plush look of your lips that always curled into a little grin, what might they look like swollen from his own pressed to them or his teeth sinking into them? Would your heart hammer in your chest? Or would it be slow and calm? Would you let him touch you? Actually touch you? To crawl inside of you and feel your warmth from the inside, to break your ribs and truly be in your embrace until you were cold and still like he often felt. A grunt passed Lawrence’s lips as he grappled with the thoughts– did he want that? No…no, he didn’t think he did. Lawrence wanted to savor you if he was ever presented the opportunity. You’d feel different. You were different. His mind rewound and pulled forward like a video on a loop, searching for just the thing to focus on. That breathless face you made after exerting yourself, the way your breathing drew a little rough and you tried to chuckle through, the way your (color) eyes would look up at him so gratefully in a way only you ever looked at him.

“Hhngh…haah…(N-Name)...” Lawrence choked your name from his throat as a shudder ripped down his spine, hips jerking erratically in a rhythm that grew sloppy before pearly, viscous cum splurted forward, coating his hand and dropping into the water to disappear down the drain. The smell of stale, foggy air and eucalyptus as the evidence of his mild perversion disappeared from sight. Maybe that’s why it was always easier in the shower. His panting eventually subsided into just one heavy sigh, the heaviness left him and again the frustration followed.

It wasn’t the same.

It wasn’t you.

Maybe Lawrence was getting greedy. Not that he could ever act on it. It always made him seize up worse when you were just looking at him with those eyes of yours. So patient for whatever he may say or do. It was maddening that he let it get this far. That you somehow had sunk so deeply into him instead that keeping you was now a regular rotation in his fantasy. That fire fed and fanned by content he consumed on the internet. But there was always just a slight pause on maybe trying such on you. Maybe. Exhaling through his nose, Lawrence turns off the water and steps out of the shower. His brow is deep set in thought as he lazily towels off his pallid skin and blonde hair that falls over his shoulders limply still damp.

Dressing for bed, Lawrence dares to glance at his phone- he never gets notifications. Not really. Just from you. And today must be one of those nights that the stars just align, one message from you.

(Name): “Hey!! I have some news tomorrow!”

Lawrence’s brows furrow and lips press in a thin line, he’s not sure how to reply. If he should. But he wants to.

Lawrence: Okay.

Like most or any social interaction- not his best work. Not that you cared. It never stopped you at all or caught you off. Most might find him brusque and socially awkward, which wasn’t untrue. Lawrence doesn’t linger on the thoughts of what it could possibly be, it could be anything with you; infinitely more optimistic than himself. You found the silver linings in most things, took joy in the small victories or whathaveyou. Something he would possibly find overwhelming or even annoying but you seemed to broach him a way just so that it never…felt that way. Lawrence didn’t want to keep you at an arms length like he had the first handful of shifts where he’d nearly tried to avoid you. And now he craved you. You were sunlight, warm and necessary. You were nourishment Lawrence didn’t believe he needed. He was starved in ways that didn’t make sense.

Tugging on old, worn sweatpants, Lawrence crawls into his bed and tries to settle in and stares at the ceiling for a while before his breathing lulls into sleep. 

The next day, the next shift. Stars litter the sky and the moon hangs along them. The streets are mostly dead, the silent stillness of the parking lot of the warehouse is usually comforting but there’s an odd looming sense regarding your news and Lawrence doesn’t know why. Why his stomach turns and twists so strangely when he sees you eagerly wave him over as he pushes the heavy door open after a swipe from his employee badge.

“Hey, Law!” you greet, warmly as ever- you were probably the only one who forced themself to adapt to the lifestyle of working this shift and still function. Or function better than most of the other workers here. Granted it made sense to Lawrence, it was what he preferred though it never showed.

Lawrence gives a low hum of acknowledgement you had grown accustomed to as you met him halfway to walk to the lockers together. “You…mentioned you had news…?” After spinning the dial on his lock, those piercing baby blues turned to you, seeming to perk up at his voice addressing you.

You bite your lip in that way that makes him wish he could be one of your teeth. To feel the plush skin under pressure. Lawrence blinks before turning his focus back to your eyes. “Yeah! Yeah, I finally got a grown up job, heh…” You run a hand through your (length) (color) (type) hair, your grin faltering to something almost akin to nervousness or anxiety. Because all Lawrence can do is stare at you with a blank, unreadable expression. The silence hangs over heavy as you scuff your shoe on the floor.

“... you're quitting…?” It feels like he's choking it out but if he did, you didn't seem to notice. And he's grateful for it.

“Well, yeah, I mean…I gave my two weeks. It's just…I can't work here forever. It doesn't pay enough and I'm not exactly cut out for it long term.” You admit with a little bob of your head, glancing around the warehouse stacked with pallets and equipment. And it was true if Lawrence was being honest, you weren't as strong to continue this sort of labor for long without it doing something to your musculature or God forbid your beautiful bones. It was bad enough when you bruised.

“...oh.” There's an odd sort of thrum in his chest he can't discern, a tension that settles tight in too many places for his liking. Your sharp eyes seem to snap to him at the monosyllabic reply and soften. That look. Not of pity, just soft.

“But we can still text! Or meet up on off days! I'd like to check out that trail sometime, if you'd be down?” You're quick, so quick, to offer him the modicum of comfort. That you somehow, some way, want to be around him even when no longer coworkers. You were so odd. But it wasn't unwelcome. “But uh…I was gonna throw a little party. At my place with people from our shift. If you wanted to come.”

Lawrence raises a brow at that, it isn't a “no” (it would be for anyone else)but it's more of that confusion. He didn't do parties. He didn't do other people. Crowded spaces. Not without some sort of necessity or incentive tied to it. His pause seems to make you fidget. “I know it's not your thing, so don't feel you have to or anything. But it would really nice to have you there.” You uplilt your word with that hopeful tone.

He shifts on his feet, his eyes unable to hold your gaze. Honestly? He doesn't want to. He really doesn't want to. Lawrence shifts on his feet a little as if still chewing all of the information over. He didn't like any of it. Most of all your leaving. Your absence would be felt so deeply. Lawrence felt like had something, had someone, even on the humdrum shifts you shared. Be it normalcy, warmth, Lawrence didn't know. But he wasn't about to let it go. Let you go. He couldnt. You might be vines constricting around him, but Lawrence could be all the thistles, barbs, and thorns in the world of it kept you ensnared to him.

Sometimes the stars just aligned like that.

“But, like I said- I know it's not…”

“I'll come.”

You blink up at Lawrence, surprise stark on your face for just a moment at his definitive tone. It lingers before your lips curl into a toothy grin making his heart thud against his ribs. “Yeah? That's great. Really great.” You pull out your phone and tap on it few times before a buzzing comes from his pocket. “That's my address, it starts at seven but y'know…it's a party so show up whenever.” You shrug casually.

Lawrence glances to the side, racking his brain for a moment, thinking of what next, of what to do when he gets there- nevermind that it's days away. “Alright! Well, let's go kick this shift in the teeth!” You chime, clapping your hands together and wandering off to whatever task you were assigned and Lawrence slowly trailing after you.

×××

Relationships were complicated. People were complicated. Well…living people were complicated anyway. For the briefest moment Lawrence thinks back to his family, people that meant little to him in the grand scheme of things but whether he liked it or not was part of his building blocks. At least a little.Which brought a vague memory of a muffled voice from childhood, “We can’t go to a dinner party empty handed.” A few hours before Lawrence decided he would make his appearance, he stopped at the liquor store on the corner to bring a bottle of…fuck. What did you even like?? All you drank when you were together was whatever was at the vending machines, the convenience store, or tea. Lawrence stood near the door of the shop- bottles lined all over the shelves and walls. Advertisements of several brand plastered all over in bright colors or neons.

Augh.

Eventually Lawrence meanders over to the wine section, staring at the bottles blankly, drifting from label to label. White wine? Red wine? If you would even drink it. Dry? Semi? Sweet? It was alcohol for fuck’s sake, why did it have to be so complicated. With a shake of his head, frustration beginning to simmer in the pit of his stomach, Lawrence swipes a bottle of sweet red with a delicate looking label adorned in little gilded flowers. Maybe even if you didn’t like it, you would think it’s pretty. Or maybe you’d think he was weird, like most other people– no…no, that wasn’t true. It was you. None of his antisocial tendencies seemed to deter you or bother you, opposite; you’d been nothing but accommodating and patient with Lawrence.

Keeping his head down, Lawrence shoves a few bills at the unbothered clerk who bothers to spare him a second glance before he begins the trek to where your apartment is supposed to be. Gingerly stepping through the building, Lawrence lingers in the hallway probably a beat longer than necessary before rapping his knuckles against the door. His palms are sweaty as he cradles the bottle of wine and waits…and waits…he can hear the thrum of bass through the door, music playing paired with a few voices…by the sound of it, not to many people (thankfully) or so he hoped. Just as he debated leaving and tossing away any hopeful ideations, the door is abruptly pulled open to reveal you. In more casual clothes. A warm flush blooms beautifully over your cheeks that has his breath hitch ever so slightly.

“Law! Oh man, I was beginning to worry you weren’t gonna show up!” You lilt, posture so much more relaxed and…oh. Lawrence spies the red plastic cup in your hand, of course. It was a party. People drank. He brought a bottle that he’d almost forgotten about seeing you the way you were. The drunk blush on your cheeks looked ever so enticing. “C’mon, c’mon in!” You usher him in warmly and he can take in your apartment. Posters decorate the walls, well loved furniture, a small cozy kitchen…that same sweetened perfume that was so uniquely you seemed to seep into the very walls. Lawrence shuffles inside, keeping his eyes down, only sparing glances to the other coworkers mingling around your place. Some chatting, some playing video games you had set up on your television, others bobbing a little to the music.

Lawrence’s hands tighten around the bottle before looking up to you and awkwardly thrusting it towards you. “I…I didn’t know what to bring…If I should bring anything.” He admits, biting the inside of his cheek as you blink and accept it, looking it over.

“Huh? That’s real sweet of you, thanks Law! Wine, huh? Fancy. I’ve never really tried it.” You inspect it, but keep it carefully tucked in the crook of your arm, though before Lawrence can feel embarrassed about his actions you give a mischievous grin. “You’ll have to come over again and maybe try it with me, huh? Can’t drink alone.” You chime warmly before disappearing only briefly to tuck it safely in the kitchen so nobody thinks to open it. Something for just the two of you…it ignites a spark of hope that he allows himself to buoy on for comfort now that he’s vastly out of his element. You poke your head out of the kitchen, “You want something to drink? I can mix you something or uh…I’ve got water, soda, juice…” Lawrence takes the opportunity to follow you and the variety of beverages and snacks. 

Opting for water, Lawrence takes up post along one of your walls, simply watching you and everyone else. Time ticks on as his hands worry the label of the water bottle to shreds. The music feels too loud, he can feel the bass in his bones. Nobody but you really wants to talk to him, he’s spared a nod of acknowledgement or a brief greeting but nothing more- if anything people seem surprised to see him here at all. Lawrence swallows thickly and glances to the clock and moves to stand up and you seemingly appear out of nowhere. Your eyes seem to trace over his features, lingering on his face for a beat before you do that wonderful thing you do. Soften up. Relax. “Hey...I know this isn’t really your scene. It can probably be a lot huh? Here…my room is quieter, you can chill there for a bit maybe? Kinda decompress? I really…hah…I really don’t want you to go yet…if that’s okay?” The alcohol has you emboldened, your lips a little looser, your thoughts more apt to slip between them.

And a strange warmth is surging through his veins, he feels it in his own cheeks, feels his fingers twitch slightly before Lawrence finds himself nodding. Your hand slips in his smoothly, gently- and he’s tempted to flinch but instead he squeezes, carefully. True to your words, your room is notably quieter than the living room, the length of hallway giving a decent berth. You settle on your bed with a dramatic sigh and Lawrence almost shyly sits beside you, hands in his lap. “...I’m glad you came.” You admit as you fall onto your back on your duvet and tilt your head to look up at him. “Is it greedy I wanted to keep you a little longer? Just to myself?”

It’s not greedy.

You’re not greedy.

You’re perfect.

Lawrence swallows thickly, your words reverberating in his skull, echoing his same thoughts. You wanted what he wanted. He could only hope anyway but you said what he was thinking aloud. You made it real. You were real. “N-No..No I don’t think that about you.” Lawrence manages to mutter out and it makes that smile grow wider on your lips. Your hand reaches for his again, delicately, as your fingers trace his knuckles. 

“We could hangout more often, y’know. I meant it when I said I still wanted to see you even after I’m outta there.”

He doesn’t know what to say. Nobody’s ever wanted to hang out around him, much less. Well beside that one friend he made online who seemed down to maybe talk in person. But they weren’t you. Nobody compared to you. The silence hangs for a moment but in the soft lighting of your room, your eyes roam over his face again before you push yourself to sit up again, shuffling a little closer to him that Lawrence can feel the warmth of your body next to his. “...is it okay if I…” You dip your head slightly, lashes fluttering to make a point of looking down at his lips before meeting his gaze again. Just barely, Lawrence shakes his head before you give a breathy little chuckle and press your lips to his, a hand raising to cradle his jawline. The light stubble there is felt against the soft, smooth skin of your palm. Your lips are plush and sweetened by whatever alcohol you’d been drinking before, slightly sticky and sweet that Lawrence savors before clumsily kissing you back. Pushing back against you perhaps with an eagerness you hadn’t anticipated that draws a soft sound from your throat. Lawrence swallows down your groan, wanting more, feel you more, taste you more, feel all that livelihood that seems to emanate from you.

The kiss grows, heat building as your arms string around his neck and hands tangle in his blonde hair as it falls messily from its elastic. Lawrence leans, arms circling around your waist, a soft grunt muffled against your lips as he dares to deepen the kiss, tongue tracing your lower lip before being granted. Being able to explore inside of your mouth before pressing you down into the mattress. He can feel every breath you take, the expanding and compression of your chest, the way your heart thrums against your chest- Lawrence swears he can hear your heartbeat. Or maybe it’s his own pounding in his hears. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is more. More. 

And you seem of the same mind. Your hands drift down to his hoodie, moving to push it off his shoulders and Lawrence awkwardly shrugs out of it, loathe to part from your lips even to breathe. With you on your back, his hands take the opportunity to roam, albeit shakily. Taking in every curve, noting the muscle and fat on your body- soft under his larger hands and so very warm. Lawrence could get lost in you endlessly. He wanted to. Parting only for a moment, his breathing ragged, you seem to waste no time as you greedily take in air while yanking your shirt up and over your head and reaching for the buttons of his plaid shirt. It isn’t long between the two of you, clumsy hands- some from alcohol and others from lack of real heated experience, before clothes are strewn over your floor and you and Lawrence are a tangle of limbs on your bed. His body cages you in, body anchored to you as he savors each sensation, each beautiful sound he’s able to pull from your lips, feeling the way your body moves and the way it works against his own. Lawrence reminds himself to be affectionate, what he was taught affection is supposed to look like through media consumption anyway, though with you it’s easier. It’s so lovely to kiss along your neck, feel you gasp and shudder, to feel your pulse flutter under his lips. “...feels…fuck…so good…” he groans lowly against your skin.

Lawrence can almost picture the expression on your face as you give a chime of laughter and dare to roll your hips against his own, feeling his erection straining against the cotton of his boxers in a very obvious tent. “It can feel better…I can make you feel better…” You croon softly and that’s the snap that breaks him. Pulling away so abruptly you look up at him owlishly, he shoves his boxers down his pale thighs, impulse and need overriding most if not all thought in this moment. The desperation that burned through Lawrence to feel you from the inside.You lift your hips accordingly as he paws at your underwear before they slip down your legs and carelessly discarded with everything else. Bare before each other, there’s the briefest moment between the way the two of you have been interlocked, drinking the other one in. Before Lawrence’s hands grip the meat of your hips and tugs you closer with a strength you usually thought was reserved for the warehouse, not that you minded. The feeling of his fingers digging into your skin, you certainly wouldn’t mind a little bruising if not more come morning.

“Just…Just stay still…Just let me…” He pants, his eyes clouded and glazed over, transfixed as he mumbles almost to himself and you arch your back just so to give him a better angle as one hand releases you to line his aching cock up to your sweet entrance.First he notches the bulbous head in and groans, chest heaving with every breath as you bite your lip with a soft whine- spurning him on, urging him to just push. And so he does, inch by inch, Lawrence spears you on his length and his eyes threaten to roll back into his skull. You feel divine; tight, wet, impossibly warm around him as you clench like a vice that his his hips already stutter the first time within you. Sweat already begins to bead his forehead as Lawrence’s jaw clenches- as tempting as it is, he couldn’t bear the embarrassment if he came undone within you so quickly. 

You keen below him, hushed little murmur of, “Please…fuck, Law…need you, please.” While resting your hands on his shoulders with a little squeeze, you don’t mean to rush him, really you don’t- but you’d wanted this, thought about this, more times than you cared to count. And with a little liquid courage in your veins, you finally fucking had it. Had him.

And surely, he begins to rock his hips. The push and pull between you growing as Lawrence begins to rut within you, rhythm building and pressure mounting as you buck your hips in kind, pushing him deeper until his cockhead nudged against that delicious spot within you that made your lashes flutter and moans spill from your lips. Ordinarily, Lawrence wasn’t one for much noise- but the music muffled anything beyond your door and these sounds were for him and him alone. Shouldering your legs over his shoulders, Lawrence picks up his pace and his hips snap against you, heavy balls wetly slapping against your ass that has you squeak until you relax some in his grip. It leaves you helpless, putty as he fucks you into the mattress with reckless abandon now- your headboard knocking against the wall with each brutal thrust as he moans and grunts above you. While the sight of your is ever enticing, something Lawrence wants to burn into the folds of his brain, the need to feel close to you wins as he hunches over, nearly folding you in two. Hands bracing on the bed as he buries his face in the crux of your neck and shoulder as he kisses along the skin, breathing hotly into your ear as he continues to pump his cock into you. “...close…so…need to feel you…so warm…so fucking good…” Lawrence babbles to you, drunk on the euphoria as he feels pleasure coil hot in his stomach, on the brink.

So close.

So close.

So close.

“L-Law…’m not…a-ah, oh fuck…!” You gasp and choke on your words as you’re pinned below him, bliss drawn over your flushed features as your brain struggles to send words to your mouth, “...’m not gonna last...just like that, like that…!” You encourage as he surges with renewed vigor. Lawrence wants, no, needs to feel you come undone around. What you feel like when overcome with pleasure, what you look like, all of it. He grits his teeth before finding better use for his mouth, latching onto your throat to suckle a deep mottled mark into your skin that has you nearly scream into the room before he claps a hand over your lips to muffle it as he feels you contract around him. Convulsing, throbbing, spasming all around him in a way that Lawrence shuddering as his engorged cock finally empties itself within you, the excess forming a creamy ring around the base of his shaft and dripping down the plush swell of your ass onto the duvet. Ragged huffs fan over the hickey now left into your skin as Lawrence gives a few more languid, shallow strokes to enjoy the lingering feeling of you tightly wrapped around him as you try to catch your breath with a few low sounds of complacency. Sated, Lawrence almost begrudgingly lowers your legs carefully and his piercing eyes look up at you- trying to gage if you might be disappointed or upset, but instead is met with a bleary, satisfied smile and a breathy chuckle.

“...fuck, Law. I knew you had in you.” You mutter playfully before resting your arm over your sweaty forehead and Lawrence can feel his lips quirk ever so slightly. Something akin to pride settling in him slightly, but he remains knelt between your legs as a silence settles over the pair of you and you raise your arm to peek at him. Wordlessly, you pat shift and shuffle, peeling back the blankets and patting the spot next to you.

“But…your party…?”

“I’m pretty sure people heard and I’m pretty sure they didn’t. What’re they gonna do? Rob me? I don’t have shit.” You chuckle, though Lawrence seems to give pause and glance to the door. His reluctance seems to sober you some as you sit up slightly. “Uh…unless you wanted to go.” You try to keep your tone steady not to betray the tinge of hurt that creeps in all the same.

“No…! No, that’s not what I want…uhm…” Lawrence awkwardly scoots off your bed and grabs his boxers to tug on padding to your door and opening it a crack, peeking and listening for any other life in your apartment. The music had since stopped and it was still silence.With the knowledge your apartment is now empty, Lawrence locks your door for you before returning into bed and you just smile. The simplest thing, as if this was normal. Maybe it was, Lawrence sure as fuck didn’t know what that was, but this was nice. This was beautiful. You were beautiful.

Slowly, he moves to the other side of the bed and slides in beside you. Lawrence has not slept next to another person, honestly it was never something he thought he would like but it feels like it’s both what you want and what is expected. And frankly- it could be worse. “...Can I…?” He shuffles under the blankets, swathed in your detergent and perfume, his frame shifts over yours and his head presses to your chest where he can hear the steady beat of your heart. The intrusive thought rings in through his head that he could have it, have that piece of you forever. Sealing this moment forever between the two of you...but he pushes it to the back of his head. No, another part of him didn’t want that- as tempting as it may be. If he took that part of you, this wouldn’t be possible. And Lawrence wanted this, whatever this may be, and more of it. More of you. Sex. Intimacy. The touch and warmth of another living being. It was odd, it was still something Lawrence was trying to make sense of. A way that this could remain but you might still be wholly his. All his. Only his.

Lawrence’s reverie is broken only by your arms encircling him and hugging him close to you, one hand carding through his hair to keep his head pressed to your chest as you hum in contentment. “Night, Law.” You mutter with an affectionate kiss to his head as you reach an arm out to turn off your lamp and succumb to sleep. Lawrence lingered awake a while longer, his nocturnal nature something he was grateful for as he relished in the soft breaths while you slept, how your heart slows, the sweet silence as he curls around your body and eventually, an hour or so after observing you, Lawrence sleeps as well.

Eventually sunlight dapples through your blinds, making Lawrence crinkle his nose slightly- he wasn’t accustomed to this. Not that he slept poorly necessarily, but it would take a day or so to get his circadian rhythm back. But it hadn’t been a waste as you groggily rouse beside him with a sleepy smile. “...Hey.” You greet warmly, throat still raspy from sleep as you push some of his bangs from his face. “You sleep okay?” Lawrence nods slowly, drinking in this vulnerable vision of you as you yawn and roll to look at him on your pillow. “You want breakfast or something?” You offer up with that languid smile and something akin to adoration lingering in your eyes, the afterglow looked all the more prepossessing on you. “I have some of that tea still that I brought you a few days ago.”

He pushes up to sit and chews his lip for a moment. Maybe a part of Lawrence had hoped. Had known. “Uh…actually I, uh…I brought some tea for you. I can make us some.” He replies slowly, shifting his gaze to look at you, testing your reaction, if you would find it odd that he brought something besides the wine.

“Aw! Yeah, I’d love that.” You grin and sit up as well, moving to tug fresh underwear on and a large shirt, “You know where the kitchen is, the kettle is on the stove. I’m just gonna freshen up quick.” And with that you disappear into the bathroom while Lawrence prepares you his own specialty brew. 

[strnilolover]

Ditsy!reader in my eyes is definitely a pinkie pie girl(like you know what I mean?I don't know what ditsy means😔) like fun, colorful, and always has a cheeky grin on her face!!

Meanwhile player!Chris is definitely the opposite. He's cold, hardy, but ofc has a somewhat soft side for reader.

Player!Chris definitely has a couple tattoos, Ditsy!Reader loves to color his tattoos with her markers

Ditsy! Reader definitely has colorful tattoos

I also think ditsy! Reader definitely has some trauma 😭

This would be chris' tattoos

They also deff have a matching tattoo but they look totally different

Ty for reading 🙂‍↕️(I hope this is what ditsy me and I don't want to make a fool out of myself 😩😭)

Ditsy pretty much means silly or scatterbrained!!

so i could definitely see ditsy!reader being a pinky pie girl! but she’s only that way around people who are close to her (one of those being chris) and she’s more like fluttershy around those she isn’t close to. chris definitely is more on the hard side, considering he keeps himself at arms length with everyone. he doesn’t give into people’s bullshit, and when girls are all over him (before him and ditsy!reader get together) he’ll give them the attention but doesn’t ever make it for more than a day. chris also very much so has a soft spot for ditsy!reader, she’s really the only one who can pry shit out of him and make him show some type of feeling other than resting bitch face 😭

I agree about everything for the tattoos! though ditsy!reader wouldn’t have a whole bunch (she’s not the biggest fan of needles, but loves the way tattoos look)

ditsy!reader definitely has some trauma. because of her smarts, her family always ALWAYS pushed her to be perfect and if she didn’t meet their standards, then things would get rough. and she was often over looked by her family, considering they only cared about her academics and not how she actually felt or any of her interests (there might be some bigger stuff but like i’m not sure yet)

[drakewyne]

nancy got a massive star anise in that turkish coffee blend an iraqi man had brought her from a trip abroad — that’s fine, she doesn’t mind strong flavors and she likes the shape. ba’athist baghdad in the ‘70s would still be their meeting spot.

“would you believe christmas is one of my favorite holidays?”

she takes a sip. it tastes sharp ended like stars.

“actually the way i’ve been acting, i wouldn’t believe it either.”

and this is a godless season.

( cw: sad )

tim recompenses by making a gingerbread man walk over her hand. he has dark chocolate buttons and a royal icing smile. he looks a little stupid, but pleased. nancy squishes a cheek in her hand and wonders what the little cookie’s secret is.

“you have the opposite of seasonal affective disorder,” she comments while tim whistles the vince guaraldi trio, “you have seasonal disaffective disorder.”

“‘please eat me, it’s all i live for. it’s all i fucking live for.’” tim moves the cookie around.

she clicks her tongue: “at least he says it out loud.”

“i always actually felt like christmas kinda made up for the bleak 0 for 8 nature of chanukah,” tim answers, “so this part of the season’s like a reward in and of itself.”

nancy thinks and then snaps off the gingerbread man’s stupid head.

“sorry for shitting all over your pageantry then.”

“i’ve seen bigger shits.”

she separates the eyes and the smile between perfected teeth.

“it’s not your fault,” he mumbles, “everyone gets that this is kinda a bullshit time for you.”

“well,” she frowns, “i’m not really so sentimental.”

“annie.”

she swallows and turns her head to watch the plush snow falling outside. the cottony sound of the fat drops hitting the window fills her mouth with cold sponge cake. her brow pulls, as she’s tried to swallow that too.

“okay,” she begrudgingly admits, “so i’m a little sentimental.”

“and you’re taking this feeling out of place thing a little personally.”

“that’s the most personal feeling you could’ve described.”

“trust me,” tim pops both arms in his mouth, “i know.”

the gingerbread man’s down to a torso and legs, his chocolate buttoned suit delineated with icing.

nancy sips her espresso and lays both hands flat on the table, dark button eyes boring into the wood. when the sheer force of her gaze leaves no exit wounds, she softens up and feels embarrasingly weepy in the throat.

“i can’t really blame anyone,” she admits quietly, “it’s totally all my fault. that’s neutral, i think, it is what it is . . . ”

tim hands her the left leg. she thanks him and takes it in her slim hand.

“everything kinda slows down in winter anyway,” tim explains, “it’s just too quiet a season for you.”

“and for you?”

“are you kidding? i get free reign when it’s quiet like this- i go ice skating and everything.”

nancy huffs, humored. then she looks at him, and something in his eyes is sheer crystal truth. she angles her head.

“no way.”

“i actually do.”

“are you good?”

“i’m alright.”

“shut the hell up,” she shakes her head, “i hate when you do that. it means you’re actually dead good.”

“you know everyone was happy that you showed. don’t feel bad about psyching them out a little.”

there’s a star on top of the christmas tree. she thinks about the angel that used to top hers.

“if we had a pool for every time we weren’t sure if someone was showing,” tim leans back, “dick’d make the top spot every year.”

they got a fresh tree every year. and there’s a new family in that house. the angel topper?

“you can take your time. wouldn’t even matter if we split- you’d still get an invite for next year.”

she’s not totally sure where it went off to.

“hey, don’t cry-”

“i’m not,” she blinked, surprised by the accusation, “i’m not.”

then she touched beneath her eyes and realized she was.

she explained briefly that she got her dad a safe, soft balsa wood model plane and the truth was simply that he actually liked it, he was slightly excited, he loves planes. did she ever tell him that? no? oh, well, he loves planes and understands them in a way that feels bigger than what they are.

and the truth was simply that she loved him and understood him in a way that was bigger than his six feet and five inches.

both of them would prefer that the thing they love not hold them to it.

nancy and tim in his old room. she pushes the clutch ( removes her makeup ) and he pulls the choke ( unwinds her scarf from her neck ). she hates being weepy like this. she thinks it’s disgustingly indelicate and slightly rude of her considering the fanfare. she looks around at his walls and feels so much of him in the dark paint and the boyish bedspread. quintessential adolescent. blue and grey checkered and everything. he had a sony stereo right above it with headphones waiting for him to come back.

“what were you last listening to in here?” she asks.

tim presses the disc eject and scrutinizes the cd. “slowdive. souvlaki. banger album.”

“when was that?”

“don’t remember putting a cd in here recently,” he shrugs, “so i guess five years ago or so.”

she sits on the bedspread and the mattress catches her weight. from below, there’s a muffled degree of cheerful noise. his curtains are open, and the white flurries around outside.

“i don’t think i can get you out of here,” he wincingly admits, “storm’s getting too gnarly to drive in.”

“do you know where alfred would’ve taken my bags?”

“probably just by the coats.”

“can you bring them? i just want my sweater.”

he does. he watches her pull her clothes off and finds it slightly even more intimate to watch nancy put a sweater on.

“i turn into this big baby when i’m the littlest bit jetlagged,” she brushes it off, putting lotion on her peachy face after taking out her contacts, “i just get super ridiculous.”

“have you tried puking? i just puke.”

“i like the efficiency in that. get it all out.”

“i move fast.”

“i actually really like your room,” nancy looks up at the ceiling, “it’s cute you put stars up there.”

he lay beside her, squinting: “forgot i did that. anyway you’re wrong and it’s actually metal. these are the constellations you see from apokolips — where darkseid lives. it’s in this dimension that you need a boom tube to get to.”

“oh my god,” nancy sighs, shutting her eyes, “you had such a fucked up childhood.”

“my bad.”

she touches his hand and he turns his palm up to make it easier. she was just curious, just wondering, but did he ever hold hands in this room like this? no. too many people and too little respect for closed doors and too much urgency. he was making moves without a home field advantage. a panicky adolescent bravery.

“not to mention, my room wasn’t ever really suitable for visitors.”

“it still isn’t back at yours.”

“then i guess there is no stopping sister nancy after all. i’m glad they made that song real.”

she laughs lightly, low and slow and dizzy. then she apologizes quietly for being a pain about everything. then she asks him to tell everyone that she really appreciates the invitation, but she can’t hang. he will.

he says, “hey, before you go to sleep.”

tim has likely been eating his body weight in gingerbread all night, but she likes strong flavors and it feels sharp ended like stars. his hair crushed against her head and this was an unfamiliar, surprising custom that she blinked over. this closeness. this buoy knocking of skulls.

“nobody thinks there’s a way you’re supposed to feel about anything, but i’ll still leave out the part where you started crying.”

kissing would be easier. would at least give her something to do with her hands.

“the patience’s actually kinda annoying,” he admits, “give it a few hours over breakfast and you’ll be begging to get called out.”

yet as is historically true for her, the long way out is objectively the best way.

“you think it’s a little stupid, right?” she asks hesitantly.

tim doesn’t give her what she wants. he keeps his face the same.

“how you feel doesn’t have anything to do with what’s stupid or not.”

“i know better.”

“how you feel doesn’t have anything to do with knowing shit either.”

“tim,” she shuts her bird egg eyes, “do you remember what happened?”

“i remember what i think happened.”

“well, i remember everything. i remember it all super clearly.”

“ . . . i believe you.”

she opens her eyes.

[onehelluvafan]

Will Stolas lose his immortality?

I’ve seen several mentions of Mission: Weeaboo-boo being a parallel to Blitz’s first encounter with Stolas (as an adult), which I can totally get behind. Right out the gate we have the “you were here to ravish me” similarity as well as Blitz “sneaking in, under the cover of night.”

I've also seen the hypothesis that Emberlynn's fan fiction includes an element of foreshadowing for what’s going to happen in the climax of Season 2.

Her episode is also the only one of the shorts with that "ticking" sound during the content warning, which lends further credence to the idea that it is tied in with the main plot somehow, even if merely thematically.

This got me pondering the possible parallels related to Emberlynn's functional immortality against demonkind and her decision to give it up in order to "be with Blitz."

Which now has me wondering—is Stolas going to have to give up his immortality to be with Blitz? Or lose it due to the illegal arrangement they've had going on?

Or, leaning into the idea that her episode is merely a reflection of how Blitz views his relationship with Stolas, could it simply be a parallel to the fact that Stolas has already been in mortal danger as a result of choosing to be with Blitz? And that Blitz feels responsible for Stolas' “undoing?”

We’re shown in Ghostfuckers that one of Blitz’s fears is that Millie could have died during any of the missions from episodes 1-4 of season one. Couple that with the fact that he believes that he “makes everyone’s lives worse,” it’s reasonable to assume that he not only fears, but feels responsible for her life being in mortal danger during their missions.

Whether he cared more about Stolas or the arrangement when he stopped the first assassination attempt, Striker was without the angelic weapon when he fled, which Moxxie had expressed complete shock in Striker's ability to have in the first place.

I think that Blitz allowed his cognitive dissonance to convince himself that Striker was no longer a threat without this weapon. Because deep down, he may have been afraid that telling Stolas about the assassination attempt might not be a neutral event for him. That he didn’t even want to contemplate the idea that he might actually care beyond the loss of their "arrangement."

In the very next episode, Truth Seekers, we see these feelings forced to the surface during his drug-induced hallucination—with Stolas at the top of a long flight of stairs, saying, “Are you afraid to love people, Blitzy?”

With the knowledge that he’s afraid that he makes “everyone’s lives worse,” it adds layers to many Stolitz scenes that follow throughout the series. Data points that someone like Blitz could easily see as evidence of that very fear. “Proof” that he’s responsible for Stolas’ life “falling apart.”

- He knew that Stolas was married as evidenced by his “Sorry, I fucked your husband” after their first night together. Stolas was clearly not only consenting to sex with Blitz, but was expressing a joyous desperation for it. Despite this, it was actually the “first ever friend” comment that caused Blitz to hesitate and return to Stolas, which we now know was a soft spot for him due to his experience with Fizz. But it was Blitz’s choice to stay or go, and staying is what kicked off the arrangement, is the reason for the sexual nature of its terms, and caused a domino effect that impacted Stolas’ entire life, including his family.

- When the two of them were being roasted at Ozzie’s, it wasn’t Stolas’ perspective that was showcased for Blitz, but Ozzie and Wally Wackford’s. Not only does the narrative begin early with Wally’s “Are you sleeping with an imp?!” but it’s followed up by Ozzie’s “My dark lord, how the mighty do fall,” and continues with Stolas being called out for “giving up” his wife and daughter specifically for his choice to be with Blitz. And the way that the narrative plays out, it almost sounds like his downfall was less for cheating than it was for sleeping with an imp.

Either way, seeing Stolas hide his face behind the menu likely “confirmed” multiple things for Blitz. That despite Stolas’ “public” flirting in front of other imps, when confronted by someone actually associated with Stolas’ upper class society, Blitz was reduced to being an embarrassment for Stolas.

Believing that, left no room for even a glimmer of hope that they could be anything more than what they already were: a prince who enjoyed “sleeping with an imp” and was apparently paying a pretty steep price for it.

- Then there’s Octavia. In Loo Loo Land, Stolas takes her to the theme park but spends most of his time flirting with Blitz. Not only does she comment on this in front of Blitz, but he’s there to witness when she’s finally had enough and storms off, mad at her father. In Seeing Stars, Octavia came to I.M.P., stole the grimoire, and disappeared with it. Why? Because her father was so wrapped up in the divorce, that she felt angry and neglected.

- In Full Moon, his fight with Stolas took them through part of the palace. This is very likely the first time he’s seen it since he was apprehended at the “Not Divorced” party, and what has it become? When he came back into Stolas’ life, it was bright, vibrant, and full of people. That night in Full Moon, it was dark, muted, and the only person visible in his photos were of Via.

While Blitz may have inferred at the time that Stolas’ marriage wasn’t in a good place, he doesn’t know just how miserable Stolas was in the life he had before. From Blitz’s perspective, he may have appeared fairly content overall when they first reconnected.

Compare that to Apology Tour, which Blitz sees as the natural outcome of what people experience when they are around him long enough.

Data point after data point, to feed into the idea that Stolas’ life has been “ruined,” just by Blitz being in it. His marriage ended, his relationship with his daughter was negatively impacted, and by Ghostfuckers, someone had tried to kill him twice.

I don't think Blitz is aware that Stella is the one who has been putting out the hits, but I could see him internalizing the idea that if Stolas had died during the second attempt, it would have been his fault. Because not only had he chosen not to warn Stolas that someone was trying to assassinate him, he was also the person that Stolas had reached out to for help and he had let M&M go in his stead.

It is after this attempt on Stolas’ life that we see Blitz absolutely shook by the idea that Stolas not only could be hurt, but that he was hurt and had almost died.

This is also several months after the night at Ozzie’s, when he had first begun to realize that, painful as it was, he may care for Stolas after all. Months during which they hadn’t seen each other and he had time to actually miss their time together.

Between that and finding out that he can actually get hurt, I can see Stolas becoming one of the people that Blitz feels the desire to protect. Unfortunately, this also seems to come with the anxiety of being responsible for what he perceives as the “collateral damage” of being associated with him.

Finally, in Truth Seekers, where the "ticking" began, Stolas had exposed himself via "real" demonic power to the D.H.O.R.K.S. and by extension, the living world. But the only reason he was there and got himself caught on camera is because he came to rescue Blitz.

This could be linked to the scene where we see Blitz attempting to protect and defend Stolas against someone. My bet is on Paimon, who, while ranking below the 7 Sins in power, is still depicted as a fairly powerful being. Stolas had not only exposed their existence to the living world, but had showcased his power in his attempt to scare the agents into submission. We know there’s going to be consequences for that, as well as for the divorce, and I expect Paimon will have a part to play, one way or another.

Stolas mentioned in Seeing Stars that without the grimoire, his powers are rather limited. I assumed that the worst outcome for him at the end of Season 2 was being stripped of his status and grimoire, which would vastly reduce his raw power as well as the power his position in society affords him.

Obviously, the actual worst-case scenario would be the loss of his life, which it's assumed Blitz is trying to protect him from in the snippet from the trailer. But it didn't occur to me until now that even with my own certainty that he'll survive the Season 2 climax, there was a third possible outcome... that along with his power and status, Stolas could also be stripped of his immortality.

[nethercomfies]

💜 Sway with Me 💜

Pairing: Zander Netherbrand x Reader

Content: gender neutral reader, fluff, no defined relationship

Notes: Very much inspired by this clip

Words: 1.9k

You sit at the bar of Club Netherbrand, just enjoying your drink. You figured it was time for a night out, instead of just sitting at home for once, however now that you’re here, you’re not quite sure what to do with yourself. None of your friends had time to tag along, and you’re not really the type to chat up strangers, leaving you with nothing to do aside from occasionally sipping from the drink you ordered.

Usually you chat up the Zander when you come here on your nights out, but you haven’t really had the opportunity for that today. Every once in a while you catch a glimpse of him among the crowd, checking in with people and having small chats with patrons here and there. You’re not sure he’s even noticed that you’re here tonight, so instead you just resort to observing other people, hoping you’ll be able to catch his attention sooner or later.

Your eyes keep wandering over to the people enjoying themselves on the dance floor. Dancing has never really been your thing. You’re a little too clumsy for that and your feet never quite want to do what your brain is telling them to do. But you can’t deny that it looks pretty fun for the people who do have it figured out.

“What do you say to having a little dance yourself?” Zander's voice catches you off guard. You didn't even see him approach, but now he’s standing right in front of you, grinning down at you. He extends his hand out towards you. “Come on, I’ll even join you! It’ll be fun, I promise.”

You’re a little surprised by his offer, not quite sure how to respond. “I appreciate the offer, but I'm afraid I can't actually dance. I’m probably better off just watching from here… But you go ahead!” You stammer, avoiding his gaze. You almost expect Zander to wander off and just ask someone else instead – After all, there’s probably plenty of people who would kill for a dance with Zander Netherbrand himself –, but to your surprise, he takes a step closer towards you.

“It's alright, you don't need to know how to dance, I promise,” he assures you with a warm smile. “All you have to do is let me guide you, and I promise I'll handle the rest.”

You feel a bit nervous. You’re really not the type to dance, but it’s hard to say no to Zander, especially with the way he’s looking at you expectantly.

“Please?” He adds, his voice a touch softer. It’s just the right amount of soft to melt away your inhibitions.

You sigh and down the last bit of your drink. “Alright, maybe one dance won’t hurt…” You reach out and place your hand in his, allowing Zander to pull you out of your seat. “But you better be prepared to have your toes stepped on… This is your warning,” you add, as the demon leads you towards the dance floor.

Zander chuckles. “Noted. I won’t mind, I promise.”

The dance floor is a little crowded, so you try to stick close to him, clinging onto his arm so you won’t get separated. Zander gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. He leads you towards a more secluded spot where there's enough space for the two of you to dance without the danger of bumping into anyone else.

“This is a good spot, don’t you think, darling?” He asks, smiling down at you. You nod, suddenly feeling a little shy as it dawns on you that there’s no way out now – You’ll really have to dance.

You're not quite sure what to do with yourself, so you glance up at Zander, hoping that he’ll offer you some guidance.

“We’ll then, let’s get started, shall we?” Zander asks, turning to face you. He takes one of your hands and lifts it up slightly, while placing the other on the small of your back, pulling you just a little closer. You’ve never realized how much bigger his hands are in comparison to yours. It’s enough to fully envelop yours, while his other hand almost covers all of your lower back.

But you don’t have too much time to think about it. Because Zander’s voice catches your attention.

“Now… You'll just have to sway to the music, darling,” he says, almost startling you with how close his voice is to your ear. You feel his breath against your skin, and part of you starts to freak out about how close you are to him right now.

You feel a gentle tug on your arm as Zander begins moving to the song playing in the background. It’s slow and calm, almost a little romantic. You’re a little hesitant at first, but quickly try to move along to the music, adjusting your movements to Zander’s. You don’t really know what you’re doing, but just swaying with him seems easy enough.

You keep going like this for a bit, until Zander pulls away just enough to look at you, not stopping his movements.

“You’re doing great, darling,” he says, a little smile gracing his lips. “Now, let’s pick up the difficulty just a little, alright? Move your feet a little. Small steps, back and forth.” He starts moving his feet in tune with the music, and you try your best to follow based on his instructions. Zander hums. “Just like that, you’re doing amazing.”

Your feet still feel clumsy, unwilling to work with the rest of your body. But Zander seems pleased with your performance so far, so you allow yourself to keep going, letting your movements get a little bolder.

You almost feel like you’ve got the hang of it when you take a slightly bigger step and feel a foot trapper underneath yours. You freeze up immediately, uttering a thousand apologies under your breath. You’re prepared to pull away and just stop with the dancing for the rest of the night – or the rest of forever, really –, but you feel Zander’s grasp around you tighten just slightly. Not enough to hurt you, but just enough to stop you from running away.

You glance up at his face to find him looking back down at you with a smile, not bothered by your misstep in the slightest.

“It’s alright, darling,” he reassures you, “I don’t mind it in the slightest. You’ll get the hang of this sooner than you think, I promise.” His tone is so soft, so gentle, that you can’t help but feel a rush of calm come over you, melting away the anxiety that had frozen up your entire body just mere seconds ago.

You try to get back into the rhythm again, more careful of where you’re stepping this time, but it’s like the magic is gone. Your body feels so stiff all of a sudden, it’s hard to keep focusing on the music and you grow increasingly frustrated with yourself.

“You’re thinking too much, darling.” Zander’s voice pierces through your thoughts, pulling you out of them. “Don’t let your brain be in charge of what your body is doing. Just let yourself move,” he tries to gently instruct you.

You look up at him, worry clearly painted over your face. “But what if I step on your feet again? What if I mess up? What if I-”

“You’re learning. It’s fine if you mess up a little along the way,” Zander interrupts you. His thumb rubs small circles into your back in an attempt to soothe you. “Take a deep breath and just let yourself be guided by the music… And by me. You’ll be okay, I promise.”

You try to push away all of your thoughts, looking for something to focus on. Your mind wanders back to Zander’s hand on your back. The way his warmth seeps into you through that spot, the way his movements are so rhythmic and calm, like it’s second nature to him. You zero in on that feeling, allowing it to guide your own movements.

It makes it easier to stop thinking so much about what you’re doing. You push your worries aside and allow yourself to just be right in that moment, with nothing around you but Zander and the music.

Before you know it, the song is over, and the music switches to something a little livelier.

“See? You did amazing,” Zander says, giving you a wide grin.

You smile back at him. Your heart is still pounding and your mind feels like it isn’t quite there yet, but more than anything, you feel a rush of happiness. “I figured it out, somehow,” you say, barely able to contain the excitement in your voice. “Well, it was mostly you guiding me, really, but-”

“Hey now, it wasn’t all me, you did great as well, darling,” Zander interrupts you. “You learned quickly and figured it out. Dare I say, I think you’re a natural. You can be proud of yourself.” He gently squeezes your hand and smiles.

“So, would you like to go for another round?”

“Sure!” The word slips out before you even have time to consider it. But there’s no time to hesitate, as Zander’s grip around you tightens once more and he starts moving again. You’re okay with it. Now that you don’t have to worry so much about what you’re doing, you’re starting to enjoy yourself.

This new song is a little more difficult to keep up with, but you try your best to just move along with the music. You still mess up here and there, but Zander takes all the times you step on his feet in stride, never once making you feel bad about it.

“Hey… Wanna try something out?” Zander asks with a grin. You’re not quite sure what he wants to do, but you just give a small nod, and before you know it, Zander lifts up your arm and gives you a small twirl, then catches you again with a small chuckle.

You’re a little surprised, but once your brain has processed what just happened, you join in on his laughing.

“What was that?” You ask in between laughs.

Zander shrugs, laughing as well. “I was just testing your newfound skill… I’d say you did quite well. Good job, darling.”

You dance to a few more songs like together, and you have the time of your life. Suddenly, dancing is the easiest thing in the world. It’s like you and Zander grow more in tune the longer you keep going, until you almost feel like you’re flying across the dance floor with him.

Eventually, exhaustion gets to you and you have to take a break. Zander leads you off the dance floor, his hand still holding yours.

“Wasn’t that fun?” He asks, softly smiling down at you.

“It was,” you admit, returning his smile. “Once I figured it out, I really enjoyed myself… Thank you for teaching me.” You lean in for a small side-huge, to which Zander responds by pulling you closer for one of his bear hugs.

“It was my pleasure, darling,” he says, parting just enough to look at you while still keeping his arms wrapped around your waist. “If you ever want to have another dance, don’t hesitate to ask. I’d love to steal you away to the dance floor again some time.”

You have a feeling you’ll take him up on that offer. But for now, you’ll need to take some time to recover.