#i know thats not whats intended but thats all i can think of. or actually. what is intended by 'wholesome'?
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axolotl4days · 2 days ago
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Batfam fans i promise I'm gonna post part 2 to the "batman Dead Daughter" story soon (I intended to post it after the first part but I keep getting distracted and haven't finished writing it)(i have adhd and autism and I've never actually posted my story ideas before-)
However, part of why I haven't is i accidentally started thinking of a completely different story-
And it's so much angstier, and I haven't decided if i want to actually write it or if it lives in my head forever
It takes some slight inspiration from the "little misfortune" game, but tbh the most it takes is the name Misfortune
Side note:I have no fucking clue how old any of the characters actually are in canon, so for this it's just going off age order rather than numbers the reader would be in between Tim and Damian age wise but thats about it
Anyways here's the idea lemme know if anyone would be interested in reading it
The basic premise:
Backstory: The reader was adopted by the bat at the age of like 6 or 7 after the bat found reader just kinda... wandering Gotham one night covered in dirt and dried blood, when asked about their parents the reader just stays silent so bats like "Well I guess i have a new kid" because what else do you do? Takes the kid homes, cleans em up, and gifts them a scarf to try to gain their trust (he noticed reader kept covering their neck, he sees a pretty nasty scar but doesn't push reader to talk about it)
And the story would basically be the bat siblings realizing they don't know where reader came from (not even tim knows and he knows like, everything about his siblings cause it's tim)
And they don't ask because they're detectives they can figure it out right? But then they start to notice certain behaviors, subtle things that wouldn't normally raise alarm bells for anyone
But they don't get anywhere and after a few incidents (aka moments where they see reader experience ptsd but don't know what caused it) they decide to ask (I have an idea where they don't ask upfront but try to do the thing where they're all talking about their backstories so it doesn't feel so confrontstional) and reader very casually drops a lore nuke and tries to brush it off like it's nothing because "it happened a long time ago I'm fine" (spoiler alert, they are not fucking fine)(i want them to violently start sobbing while telling the story and they don't even realize it until one of the others points it out) and shenanigans ensue as they learn just how not fine they are :D
Because the story has only been in my head I've got a bunch of alternating scenes and plot line ideas so it's hard ti describe what it exactly is about but it mske sense in my head
This one would have a lot of mention to heavy child abuse, death, and other stuff, but apparently I'm sadistic cause I can't stop thinking about it
Depending how it goes it could be considered platonic yandere batfam but it'd get their gradually, but I haven't decided yet
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bbrissonn · 16 hours ago
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𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐
✩°。⋆˚⁺ the door's open
✩°。⋆˚⁺ social media + real life
✩°。⋆˚⁺ gabe perreault x camila yanez
✩°。⋆˚⁺ au masterlist
✩°。⋆˚⁺ this is kinda short and bad, just wanted to slowly groove back into things :)
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‎‧₊˚✧[ SEPTEMBER 21, 2023 ]✧˚₊‧
➻❥ camila_yanez has posted on instagram !
camila_yanez
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camila_yanez cruisin' by 😎
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rebeca.peralta miss you stargirl ⭐️
camila_yanez @/rebeca.peralta i miss you moreeee
nolesoccer 😎😎
danielerida THATS MY GIRL
val_guerrero @/danieleride our girl, BUT YES danielerida @/val_guerrero 🙄
ryan.leno4 @/gabeperreault44 i see u buddy
user773 she could run me over and i'd thank her
teammatesuser oh hey, i know you !
camila_yanez @/teammatesuser oh hey, i know you too !
jacob_fowler24 @/gabeperreault44
user947 omg the bc guys are back 😭
_willsmith2 @/gabeperreault44
cuttergauthier_ @/gabeperreault44
teammatesuser our queen 👑
camila_yanez @/teammatesuser muah 💋
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―┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆―
➻❥ gabeperreault44 has posted on instagram !
gabeperreault44
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gabeperreault44 Take 1 📚
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_willsmith2 🔥🔥
jacob_folwer24 très bien
ryan.leno4 dudeeee
user639 future of the rangers right here !!
cuttergauthier_ oh yeahhh gabo
user294 GP34 🔥
danielerida @/camila_yanez he's kinda cute... 🤭
rebeca.peralta @/danielerida kinda??? girlllll 🤭 val_guerrero @/danielerida @/rebeca.peralta you guys realize others can see this right?? 😭 ryan.leno4 @/gabeperreault DUDEEEEE
user349 am i missing something 😭 ^
user043 @/user349 check out @/camila_yanez comments, girl its crazy in there
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―┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆―
➻❥ chestnut hill, mass
"what are you guys laughing about?" one of the upperclassman asked as a small group of freshman walked into the locker room. they were all either chuckling or laughing, while gabe's face was beat red as he stared at the ground.
"nothin'." the boy in question answered quickly as he made his way over to his stall.
"gabo's fat crush on some girl he doesn't even know." ryan exclaimed, his laugh roaring through the room. gabe's small little crush had quickly spread around the locker room, thanks to ryan big mouth. he had now became a target of endless teasing and small remarks about a girl who didn't even know he existed.
"you're still on that, dude?" someone laughed, but gabe's eyes stayed glued to the ground, trying his best to ignore all the comments being made.
"we've got progess. her friends are all up in his comments." will said, making some of the guys look over the perreault boy. will was probably one of the only one who didn't tease him endlessly about it, mainly because he was with gabe when they watched that first game, and he too was quick curious about the girl.
"should we start planning the wedding?"
"i call being bear boy!"
"you guys are so dramatic. i just think she's cute, that's all." gabe was quick to interrupt his friends, making all of them look over at him and stop laughing.
"that's not what drunk gabe said last week."
"yeah? well he's an idiot, who's drunk, so forget it." gabe's words came out harsher than he had intended to, leaving the room quiet afterwards. some of the guys slowly started falling into small convos between themselves, none of them brining up the girl.
and she wasn't brought up until will and gabe made it to their dorm after practice, ryan and jacob following closely behind them.
"does it actually annoy you? the teasing?"
"no. but you guys are making it a bigger deal than it actually is." the boy shurgged as ryan and jacob waved them goodbye and continued to their dorm, the two boys now entering their room. "and it's annoying because you also think she's cute, but no one gives you shit about it!"
"yeah, because i didn't spend a whole rambling about her, gabe." the blond boy explained as he moved around their room, cleaning up the mess a bit.
"that was like forever ago."
"actually it's been three times now. literally the first party we went to, then again a week later, and last week, dude. and the only reason their acting this way is because you're not doing anything about it."
"yeah, 'cause i don't know the girl, will."
"then get to know her? look, clearly this isn't just some silly crush you have just because she's cute, gabo. plus, if her friends know who you are, she has to know too by now. and clearly she has to be somewhat interested because for some reason she hasn't blocked any of us. the door's open, you just have to go through it, dude." will said, stopping in his tracks and looking over the boy, who was now sitting on the edge of his bed.
"when'd you get to good at giving advice?"
"think it's the college affect. don't worry i'm sure it'll hit you at some point." the blond boy joked, making the two chuckle slightly.
for the rest of the evening, the two didn't talk about it, although will's words were on repeat in gabe's head. 'the door's open, you just have to go through it', if only it were that is for him to do.
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luck-of-the-drawings · 9 months ago
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[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]
saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.
#jrwi fanart#jrwi show#jrwi riptide#gillion tidestrider#GONNA START FORMATTING MY COMICS BETTER. W THE PROPER 'PREV' 'NEXT' LINKS#REALLY DIDNT EXPECT TO CONTINUE THIS SERIES BUT AAAUUUHH MY BRRAAAIN MY BRAIN IS SO IDEASSS. I HAVE 3 OTHER PAGES SKETCHED OUT#NO PROMISES ILL FINISH EM ANY TIME SOON OR EVER. MY WHIMS ARE THEIR OWN BEAST AND I ONLY DRAW ON MY WHIMS#THAT BEING SAID IF U COMMISSIONED ME ILL GEEETT TO YOUUU IM SORRYYYY. ART IS AN EMOTIONAL RELEASE FOR ME N BABY I HAVE EMOTIONS.#ESPECIALLY ABOUT GILLION TIDESTRIDER CHAMPION OF THE UNDERSEA HERO OF THE DEEP.for the desc here i put smth that i typed up in the tags of#another thing i made. i gotta make a proper Baby Gillion tag or smth. eventually.. eventually...I LOVE DRAWIN THIS LIL BABY GUY..#i also LOVE depicting the teachers as just being so fuckin mean. ofc theres variation in that. just like in all things.like the teacher her#idk if itll be mentioned but the octo lady is named Ms Octburn.an octopus pun based off the name of an actual councilor i had#when i was in elementary school i got bullied alot but teachers never did anything. i hated adults and didnt trust them.#but this councilor o mine was so genuinely sweet. i remember spending alot of time w her. she doesnt work there anymore.#but that one school adult that actually earns ur trust and is there for you when they can be.its SO important for a child i think#i hope she knows how much she helped me.youll see in the next page that ms octburn isnt perfect either.but she tries. they all try.somehow.#ALL these comics are gonna be inspired by somesorta experience o mine in the school system. school is so fucked up u ever thing abt that#AND GILLIOOOOONNN IN THE MOST FUCKED UP LITTLE SCHOOL OF ALL. MAINTAINED BY A CULT. CENTERED AROUND HIM. OUR CHOSEN ONE#I IMAGINE ALOT BANKS ON HIS SUCCESS. THIS IS THE WORLD. THE WHOLE WORLD. THE PROPHECY IS GOING TO COME TRUE N UR TELLIN ME#THAT ITS THIS LITTLE IDIOT THATS GONNA BE SAVING US? WHAT IF HE FAILS. IF HE CANT GET THIS RIGHT THEN HE WILL FAIL AND WE WILL DIE#WE NEED TO TRAIN HIM. WE NEED HIM TO LEARN. AND TO SUCCEED. OR ELSE WE'RE DEAD. WE'RE ALL FUCKING DEAD. I IMAGINE THAT MUST BE STRESSFUL#in other news i hope ppl actually giggle when they read these. they ARE intended to be comical. dark humor or whatever. like its also sad#this is intended to be a sad comic series. but a funny one too. does that make sense? god i hope so.saw some1 say they had flashbacks-#-reading this. like YES!! THE INTENDED EFFECT!! YOU GET ME!! i love seeing ppl get upset on this lil baby boys behalf. i LOVE seeing ppl-#-wail n weep n cry in the comments. i LOOOVE seeing ppl RELATE to baby gillion. and i love letting u all know that this wont be a happycomi#gillion gets his happiness arc in the actual show. this series is one of unfortunate events. teehehehe. do u guys remember that show#i keep listening to the lil songs from A Series of Unfortunate Events for inspiration. GOOD STUFF!!#anyway uuhh uhh thats all i got in my brain. for now. feed me ur comments give me ur input i NNEEEEEDD THHEEEMMMM
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arsenicflame · 6 months ago
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steddyhands modern au inspired by this post:
(1828 words, themes of kink but nothing explicit, established blackhands & gentlebeard-centric. Happy Pride!)
Stede picks up leatherworking in the wake of his divorce. He's not exactly sure how it ended up being such an important hobby for him, only that he had always admired the intricate designs on his horse's best bridles, and with little else to do with his time, he decides to give it a go.
It's rocky going at first, but he's having fun working with his hands for the first time in his life, and there's a sense of satisfaction in seeing the design come to life as he works. With practice, his skills improve, and he learns how to make things that are truly one of a kind.
He starts off posting his pieces online, as a way to reach fellow enthusiasts, but quickly finds himself with a rather large audience. Stede’s style is unique, and, after many requests from his followers, Lucius encourages him to make some more basic pieces he can sell. It's not about making money for Stede, but another way to meet new people who share his interests- as Lucius keeps telling him, it's sad that his personal assistant is the main person he talks to these days. 
So Stede sets out on a new adventure, and has quite the time designing a new range of patterns for the market. He makes purses, belts, bracelets, and, most importantly, dog collars- all still with his unique designs embossed into them, of course. He rents a booth at his towns monthly craft fair, and very quickly finds himself with a new group of friends in the other regulars- Pete, his usual neighbour, who sells an array of wooden figures he carves, Roach, who runs a stand for his bakery, and Frenchie, who isn't actually a stallholder, but is almost always busking near his friend Wee John’s stand of knitted goods, bringing life to the market even in the pouring rain. There's also Buttons, another regular at the market. Nobody is exactly sure what he does there- he doesn't sell things, or seem to buy anything either, but rain or shine, he's there with the birds.
Stede’s been doing this a few months by the time June rolls around. As he's setting up his stand, he notices that the area is much busier than it’d normally be at this time of morning. Lucius, who got roped into helping run Stede’s stall somewhere down the line (despite his protests that this is not what personal assistant means… But hey, he got a boyfriend out of it, at least), reminds him that there's the parade today, too- not realising that Stede had no clue there was a parade today, and especially not that it was pride. Stede immediately jumps to fretting about the amount of stock he’s brought, and Lucius takes the cue to escape, saying he’ll go and grab them coffee (but really, he's off to flirt with Pete)
Lucius is still missing when Ed stumbles across the little leather stall. Stede’s just ran back to his car to fetch his last boxes of inventory, and by the time he returns, Ed’s already begun to narrow down his choices. Stede greets him, starting to tell him that they're not actually open yet, but before he gets more than a couple of words out, Ed’s exclaiming “You're a Kiwi!!!”
The two of them smile at the shared recognition, and Stede says he’ll make an exception, just for Ed, and asks him what exactly he was interested in. Ed tells him that he's looking for a collar “for his boy”, and points out the particular design he was looking at. It happens to be one of Stede’s favourites from this latest run of work, a fact he mentions to Ed. It leads them into a discussion about Stede’s craft, and Ed’s Izzy, and then everything in between. Ed’s listening intently to the things Stede’s telling him, completely drawn in by the process, and by Stede himself. He watches as Stede stamps Izzy's name into the collar, and Stede even lets him have a go at one of the stamps. 
Lucius reappears sometime in the middle of this- only to immediately retreat again, seeing Stede engrossed with Ed. He sets up camp at Pete's booth opposite, watching this man flirt intensely with his boss- and Stede flirt back just as hard. Does Stede even realise he’s doing it? Lucius had known Stede was gay since before Stede even admitted it to himself, but this is on a whole other level.
The pair stand there so long that Izzy comes to look for Ed- the two of them are manning a float on the parade with their crew, and it's past time for them to get geared up. He's already worked up, frustrated to have been left to set up everything alone, when Ed had just gone to see if he could get them both coffee. So maybe he's a bit of a prick, approaching with a brash “where the fuck have you been, Edward”, to which Stede brings the same energy, giving a bitchy “Ed! Do you know this guy?” Izzy tenses, ready to snap, but then Ed cuts in, excitedly telling Stede that this is “his Izzy!” Which confuses the hell out of Stede. 
Forgetting his earlier attitude, he asks Ed if he “really named his dog after his friend”, only to be met with confusion right back from Ed at where the hell Stede got the idea he had a dog from. Stede gestures at the bag with the collar in it, to which Ed has to tell him, “oh, no, that's for him.” Ed tells Stede that they're here to run a float for their local leather society, and while Stede is certainly shocked by what Ed’s saying, he's not finding himself… uninterested. It's simply that he’s never even considered any of this before, especially not that people would use the things that he made for this, but Ed sounds so enthusiastic about it all. He tells him about how his friends would love to see Stede’s work, about how classic leather gear is always so fucking boring- but not Stede’s stuff, no, Stede’s stuff is “fresh” and “fascinating” and unlike anything Ed’s ever seen before. 
Ed's enthusiasm is incredibly infectious, so when he invites Stede to come back to see their float, he readily agrees. It’s a concept Izzy’s less than enthusiastic about. He doesn’t really want to bring this man who’s dressed like he just walked out of a HOA board meeting to their kinky little corner of the world, but he is having a lot of fun watching Stede squirm, so decides not to raise a protest. He does demand he gets his long-overdue coffee first, though (Stede pays for it- as “compensation for him distracting Ed from his job”, he says, not giving Izzy a second to process before he's tapping his card)
By the time they return to the float, Fang, Ivan & Jim are waiting for them, all already geared up. Stede is stunned silent at the sight for about 5 seconds, before he starts actually looking at the quality of Jim’s harness, and proceeds to go off about the poor quality of the craftsmanship, about how the hardware is tacky and completely the wrong choice with this leather, how his “ten year old daughter could do a better job!!!” 
There's complete silence from the group, until Izzy, of all people, bursts into laughter at Stede’s audacity (and, the fact he was staring at Jim's tits completely unabashedly, like he hadn't even noticed them in the first place). Izzy's laughter sets Ed off as he tells the group about Stede’s misunderstanding- “you didn't say he was a person!” “I mean, he's my dog”- and soon everyone's having a friendly giggle at Stede’s mistake.
It's somewhere in the middle of the retelling that Ed remembers that this whole thing happened because he was buying Izzy a gift. After a moments fumbling, he presents Izzy with the collar-  It's a rich, deep black, embossed with a rolling pattern that resembles waves. It’s made from a firm enough leather to take the tooling, and to remind Izzy that he’s owned while he’s wearing it, yet still soft enough for long term comfort. Izzy's eyes immediately lock on to it, an unreadable expression coming over his face, and Ed turns it; first so he can really see the design and Izzy’s name embossed into it, and then so he can see the small “Ed ♥” on the inside of the collar, right over his swallow tattoo. 
“I did the heart,” Ed says to him softly, intended only for Izzy’s ears. Izzy's eyes flick up to Ed’s, and he raises his chin to give Ed the room to put it on. Ed buckles the collar around his neck almost reverently, a test of the tightness turning into a caress of Izzy's neck. It's a perfect fit.
It's as though something comes over Izzy; so twitchy and abrasive earlier, now silent, staring at Ed with a look akin to worship in his eyes. He obediently tilts his head for a kiss as Ed's fingers move to his chin- It's a sight to behold, and one that has Stede intrigued. He wants to know more about this lifestyle, and these men in particular. He wants to be the one to put that expression on Izzy's face.
The moment breaks as Ed and Izzy pull apart, and Ed calls for the crew to finish the last bits of set up. Izzy shakes himself a little before running off to bark orders again, but even still, there remains a softness to him that wasn't there before. 
Ed turns back to Stede with an apologetic smile, already obvious that he has to get going. Before he can speak, however, Stede jumps in -“My business numbers on the card in the box… I'll be around all day”- Ed’s smile turns more genuine at that, promising to stop by if he gets a moment, and that he’ll send his friend's Stede’s way- “if he wants that kind of business.” Stede says that he does, actually- that he's seen a whole new world already today, and, while he was a little taken aback at first, he can feel the passion Ed and his friends have for this life. If there's one thing that's ever mattered to Stede, it's other people's enthusiasm. Maybe he doesn't completely understand yet, but he would like to try.
One year later, Stede’s back at the market on pride weekend again, far better stocked for the crowds this time around. Lucius is finally free to spend the day flirting with Fang & Pete to his heart's content, now that Stede’s roped his own boyfriends into helping him run the stall- and into modelling the merchandise. Ed loves that part, while Izzy needs a lot more convincing, but the puppy eyes Stede & Ed weaponise against him make a very good argument.
#Despite what this post may imply; i actually know very little about the art of leatherwork#Im also not saying Stede got into leatherwork because of his repressed leather kink. But im not not saying that.#(This is not to say that i personally think leather gear is boring- i totally see the beauty in simple/plain designs & i get that the#style is all about the look of straps and hardware. but also. i know in my heart Edward ‘likes a fine thing’ Teach would be head over heels#for fun unique pieces. Its the whimsy of it all)#(not to turn this into OFMD meta but. You can like both; in fact. You can have the leather AND you can have the florals)#ALSO. dont ask me why izzy would find a big difference between wearing gear on the float vs the stand. it just felt right#(ok i do have reasoning. its the directness of it. in the parade its very part-of-a-crowd; every interaction in passing. running the stand#is direct interactions + they are specifically looking at Him. it feels different. but he does it because he loves his partners)#nyxtalks#ofmd#our flag means death#edward teach#stede bonnet#izzy hands#israel hands#blackbeard#blackhands#edizzy#gentlehands#stizzy#gentlebeard#blackbonnet#steddyhands#fanfic#sort of... i dont really consider this fic; more. scenario description but ill admit this ended up way closer to fic than i planned#but the weird stylistic choices are because. this wasnt intended as fully fleshed out fic.#i am not a writer & i dont want to be. im just a guy with ideas over here; and the best way to share ideas is through words#(Please dont count the commas per sentence ratio. Thats between me & god)#also. I cant believe i wrote something that can be tagged as gentlebeard centric. Who am i.
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moeblob · 7 months ago
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And then she threatens to kill him if he doesn't man up and say that while looking her in the eye (and then he apologizes while looking at her in the eye because he cannot be directly rude).
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bmpmp3 · 5 months ago
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and "wholesome" is another term that really gets my hackles raised when i hear it in video game marketing or anything really. sorry but all i can think about is like the hays code and other media regulatory standards of its ilk. it makes me feel like im gonna be taken off the air for showing an interracial kiss or something.
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misspickman · 1 year ago
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very compelled by elsters gender both in a transmasc and transfem way bc well elster transmasc lesbian? beautiful wonderful 10/10. she is a robot whose body was made to fit the standards of what people consider a woman to look like, as is the case with most other replikas, so once she starts being treated more like a person of her own instead of just a worker robot, its fun to think of her chafing against it. on the other hand theres elster who was made to look like a woman/her neural pattern is copied from a woman, but is still treated like an object thats only there to do the job. shes referred to by others as 'it' in a dehumanizing way altho not purposely degrading bc they dont consider her a person enough to see this as cruel to her in any way. and slowly she ends up regaining her personhood and a concept of gender that feels right, as much as it can, considering the circumstances
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fiilemade · 1 month ago
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// Me <- most normal person about New Cinema Labyrinth (lying)
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transfemzedaph · 1 year ago
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anyway superhero au where joel is like just one guy but his power is weird and he has several guys in him all with different powers
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arolesbianism · 1 year ago
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Another quick drawing from last night
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seiwas · 1 year ago
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i ran out of tags sera i can’t believe this ☠️
anyway i was just saying !!! that !!! ONLY YOUUUU can write smut like this and stilLl make it so emotionally pAcked and heavy and characteristically ON POINT and i don’t even know if u intend to 😭😭😭 it feels like these things just flow like magic out of ur fingertips !!!!!!!!
and the next morning when nanami is there too KAMXKSN THE KISS THE CHEF APRON IS KILLING MEEEE and when he trips reader by jokin about the hickIES and reader falls for it and satoru facepalms 😭😭 hELPP AND THE LAST LINE SERA THE LAST LINE !!!!!!!!!!!
anyway this is all to say That !!!!!! SERA i love u and i miss u !!!! And i am so happy that i get to find ur lil works like this no matter how long time has passed !!! And that i get read it !!!! And enjoy it the way i do !! Because i always will love the things u write 🥺🥺 U KNOW I WILL !!! AAAAAAH thank u for blessing us w this nanago (more heavy gojo) MEAL 🥹
also thank u to somi for reminding me that this exists omfg jsnxkdnxj
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ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO X FEM READER
Gojo and you have little to nothing in common besides a friend group and a shared crush on Nanami Kento. However, as befitting the sorcerer to end all sorcerers, of course Gojo has one up on you - he’s actually made a move on Nanami. If he offers to give you a taste through him, who are you to turn down such a golden opportunity? 
wc — 4.5k
tags — mdni, nanami x reader is present but not the focus, praise, Gojo’s a tease, fingering, mutual pining but for Nanami, crying during sex but in a good way, light begging
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Work has been long and exhausting. Everywhere in the world is overrun by curses, but surely the solution can’t be to simply give the sorcerers more curses. There’s only so many of you, and with assignments piling on, you all can barely breathe. Sooner or later, someone’s going to burn out - and that’s an infinitely worse possibility. You don’t want to know what happens when a sorcerer goes rogue. 
That’s why you’ve taken to recovering the best you can. At least the pay has been proportional, thanks to the efforts of one Nanami Kento. Enough so that you’ve been able to rent an apartment in the heart of Tokyo, where you can home after work and relax - as much as you can when most days you go out into the field, come home, sleep, and repeat. You’re not even sure when you’ve had the time to eat these days. 
Which is why coming home to the sounds of music leaking out of your apartment is a little unwelcome. As you hear a crash from inside, and a loud, “Shit!”, you begin to regret giving your friends your keys. It was supposed to be for emergencies only, and yet, as you unlock the door - 
“Welcome home,” Nanami says dryly, nursing a drink in his other hand. Utahime notices next and scrambles up to greet you with a kiss on either cheek. 
Keep reading
#omfg sera i cant believe i only rEad this NOW#LITERALLYSDG#i love the dynamics of their lil friend group so much#and of couRSE I love the way you write them sera#i always always do#and i love how satoru is their lil schoolbus shbfash teleporting them everywhere like YES#make than man do some worK (but only for friend things... he can take a break for all his other responsibilities)#and the crush reader has on nanami omg i GET IT I FEEL IT cos i really would tOO#and the interaction between yuki and gojo omG#U R LITERALLY GIVING US CRUMBS SDHGBAJ the interaction we never got to see !!!!!#& im so happy to see that gojo actually mAYBe accepts her seniority ???#and the utahime shoko detail oh i lOVe iT !! even wearing geto's sweater omg that's just so cute :<#and tHEN THE COUCH WHEN NANAMI LEANS ON READERS SHOULDER........... OF COURSE I SCREAM omfG ??? and he doesnt move when reader puts their#arm around him liKE WTAF AND HE JUST SNUGGLES INTO IT AND SAYS THANKS ?? FEELS GOOD ??? i THINK i woulD DIE#the tension between gojo and nanami is insane idek how to describe it#and schoolbus satoru at the end of the movie is soso cute#and the way it just escalates om fg how gojo's suddenly kissing reader and everything IM GOING INSANE#sera when i tell u that . this was so hot. oh my god it was so hot#the things this did to my BRAIN lkike#first of all: gojo being a good kisser -> guaranteed to make me go INSAnE. and the way u articulate reader's thoughts on this too ofmfmfofm#the tongue and the biting and the teeth and the spit and the everyTHING oh my god#“buT i like kissing you BAby” NO HE HAS TO STOP HE CANT BE USING 'BABY' LIKE THAT ILL CRY#THEN HE JUST BRINGS UP NANAMI ??? LIKE ???#the lil bit of sadness u gave him ??? omg sera ??#its that bittersweet feeling thats somehow always associated with him shdjbgsal#but then he continues to fuck like nANAIM ANd IM GOING CRAY#and wehn they both cumfgofmghdssdghsghfas im ded gone#and reader is like u love him and gojo is like i like him om#only u can make smut this heavy and emotional sera i swear to god and i dont even know if u intend it toosd gjzb#' i think he might say yes if its you ' and WHAT IF I CRY
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gothgoblinbabe · 4 months ago
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The Art Of Make-believe Matrimony (pt.2)
Logan Howlett x fem!reader
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Warnings: NSFW 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), fem reader, soft dom!Logan, good ol’ face sittin’, sloppy oral (m receiving), swearing, use of pet names - babydoll, sweetheart, pretty girl - teeth rottingly sweet fluff, emotional(?) sex, mild angst, i think thats it but if there’s any more pls lmk!
Read pt.1 here
Summary: part 2 is finally here! I’ll be honest i think the majority of it is smut, but if you’re not interested in reading that, you can stop at the point where you and Logan drive home from the restaurant :) <3 this is probably the most detailed nsfw thing i’ve ever written so it’s a lil’ longer than what i’d usually write for smut but I really wanted to deliver on this one.
Taglist: @deardo11 @pastelpinkflowerlife @joyfulpeanutsalad @jonesem11 @carollinnasic @likeficsinthewnd @mrs-ephemeral 
Word Count: 9.5K
divider credit here and here
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It had been about a month since the whole ordeal with Logan - the exchanging of fake rings, sweet nicknames and kissing in the driveway - and to everyone else, it seemed like nothing had changed.
You’d still taunt each other during training, bicker over the small things and butt heads on almost everything, but it was all accompanied by stolen kisses in empty hallways, nights on the roof spent stargazing and small, sweet moments in between. You were going to come out with it - tell the team what had been going on behind closed doors - but truthfully, you were both fearful of the possible outcomes. What if this didn’t work out? What, you’d go back to hating each other - for real this time? So you kept it hushed, intending to give the new ‘relationship’ - a word neither of you used, yet - a sort of trial run. Neither of you admitted it aloud but you knew this way, if it really wasn’t meant to be, it could save you the embarrassment of admitting you were both wrong.
As the days went on, though, it became harder for either of you to keep up the act and even more difficult to keep your secret. You came close to being caught more often, having to stutter out an excuse each time. Jean and Ororo still knew what was going on - having been the ones to greet you in the hall when you’d gotten back from that dinner party - but gave you their word that it would stay a secret. The former of the two even feigned surprise when Scott mentioned he thought he saw you nearly kiss Logan in the kitchen, insisting he must've been seeing things.
You’d been washing some dishes and handing them off to him to dry and put away, both of you alone in the kitchen after dinner. 
“Hey, do you wanna come up to my room in a little bit? Maybe watch a movie?” he offered in a low voice, standing so close that your arms touched.
Neither of you had actually had the chance to be alone like that yet and the idea made your stomach erupt in butterflies.
“Hm - If I didn’t know any better, Logan,” you chuckled, “I’d think you have some ulterior motive.”
“And If I did?”
Your cheeks hurt from smiling and you rolled your eyes.
“C’mon,” he cooed, “what do you think?”
You were looking up at him, your noses inches apart as he leaned down further. One of his hands came to rest on your lower back.
“Hey, guys, have you seen my - “
Scott’s voice echoed through the kitchen and you both jumped, Logan trying to put distance between you and nearly tripping over his feet in the process. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck and you kept your eyes glued to the dishes in the sink.
“Uh,” Scott tilted his head, “have you guys…seen my phone?”
“Nope,” Logan was quick to reply, drying and putting away dishes now like it was his job.
“Um, no - sorry,” you shook your head.
“Hm…okay,” Scott mumbled, clearly suspicious of whatever it was he’d just seen. You both exchanged a look of panic when he left the room.
“That was close,” you huffed, returning to the task at hand.
“Yeah,” he agreed, “and he’s probably the last one we want to find out - Summers is a blabber mouth.”
You knew exactly what he meant. If you told Scott anything, he couldn’t keep it to himself. One time Jean had tried to plan a surprise party for your birthday and you already knew about it before she could even pick the decorations.
Jean and Ororo had thankfully kept their word, though. It was damn near torture for them to keep from shouting the truth aloud every time you got into your usual spats. The sly jokes, however, were another story.
“Will you two just kiss already?” Jean had blurted when you were pelting each other with beanbags during an outdoor game of cornhole. 
Ororo wasn’t any better. 
She was sitting next to you at dinner one night, Logan across from you. Everyone was chatting about their days or telling stories and she volunteered you to share.
“Anything new happening with you? You seem extra happy lately,” she was grinning.
Your eyes darted to Logan and then back to her, taking a deep inhale.
“Uh, nothin’ - nothin’ new,” you swallowed, "just happy.”
Logan was smiling to himself, his gaze focused on his dinner.
After everyone had finished dinner and vanished off to their rooms, he stopped you at the bottom of the staircase.
“Hey,” he nervously scanned the hallway while gnawing on his bottom lip, “can you meet me in the garden out back in fifteen minutes? I wanna show you somethin’.”
“Sure,” you nodded, “but the ‘something’ better not be beef jerky and a picnic blanket - which, by the way, is not a date.”
He clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, a contradiction to the smile tugging at his lips.
“That was one damn time - you’re still mad about that?”
“Eh - not really, but I am gonna mention it in every argument we will ever have,” you joked.
“Oh, shut up, ya’ brat.”
 You giggled and he beamed at the sound, already undeniably smitten with you. He’d never been so sure of any other feeling in his life. Your serene voice, your perfect hair, the smell of your perfume, the way you walked, the way you laughed and smiled - it was all things he’d taken notice of before but chose to bury within himself, terrified of whatever it was that had given you so much power over him. 
Set on trying to impress you, he’d gone around the garden that morning and picked a couple flowers out of each different plant he saw. He felt a little ridiculous - his six foot frame and two hundred pound body towering over a bed of tulips and daffodils - but he reminded himself this was for you; to see that smile on your face that could bring him to his knees. He had fallen for you and he fell fast. He didn’t know when he’d truly realized it - maybe during one of your midnight conversations or during one of the movie nights when you made yourself comfortable under his arm - but it was a feeling so intense that he’d never experienced anything like it before. He’d never had that ache in his chest, the pain of wanting someone so badly that it physically hurts; the twisting feeling in the pit of his stomach when he thought of losing you, the way the thump of his heartbeat became so much louder and faster when he caught even a glimpse of you. Weeks ago, he probably would’ve made fun of the poor sap who was acting just as he was - like a lovesick dog on your leash - but he found himself finally starting to embrace the idea that there was someone for him in the way there was for Jean and Scott or Marie and Bobby. Maybe it wasn’t all permanent - nothing ever was - but whatever connection he had developed with you was one of the only things that he thought of first thing in the morning and right before he went to bed at night.
After what felt like the longest fifteen minutes of your life, you made your way outside and to the well kept garden. You admired every variation of flower in bloom while you walked, taking in the peaceful atmosphere of the garden in the moonlight. You planted yourself in the middle of the extensive displays of flora, nervously rocking back and forth on your heels. You scanned the landscape and that’s when you spotted him. 
Logan was making his way towards you and even through the darkness, you could see the bright arrangement of flowers held in his hands. Your heart felt like it swelled so much with adoration that it was going to burst. He’d done this for you, went out and handpicked every flower. Receiving so much affection from him was unusual, in a good way. Recently, he’d absentmindedly begun holding your hand in his at times, talking away while his fingers intertwined with yours like it was second nature. He’d play with your hair, kiss your cheek, embrace you from behind, even pull you onto his lap so you could nuzzle into his chest. Even when you weren’t alone, he was having trouble keeping himself off of you. He’d place a guiding hand on the small of your back or let his touch linger when your fingers brushed up against each other - small things, almost unnoticeable. It was a stark contrast to his behavior weeks before and you couldn’t have been happier. 
“These are for you,” Logan held the bouquet in front of you, pointing at some of the bulbs, “a couple of ‘em might be a little bent - I may have accidentally yanked ‘em out of the ground with more force than I needed to.”
You were beaming, your hands on your cheeks in excitement and surprise.  You delicately took the arrangement of flowers from him, admiring the beautiful ribbon that kept them together. Jean had helped with that, of course.
“Oh, Logan,” you pouted, “these are beautiful!”
“I wanted to give you somethin’ nice, y’know - after being such an asshole for so long,” he shoved his hands in his pockets. 
You knitted your eyebrows, “you didn’t have to, you know.”
He shook his head, waving a hand dismissively, “c’mon, none of that, princess. You deserve ‘em.”
Your heart felt like it would jump out of your chest whenever he’d call you sweet names. He’d called you princess before, sure, but only to tease you. The way he said it now was affectionate, as if to say you really were a princess in his eyes. You were head over heels for him already but you held your tongue, fearful that it was far too soon to admit something like that. The last thing you wanted to do was drive him away and lose the only relationship you’d had in years that made you absolutely lovesick to the point of losing sleep.
“I wanted to, uh - I wanted to tell you something, too,” he began, resting his hands on your waist. He seemed a little nervous with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.
“So, tell me,” you smiled up at him. You’d be lying if you said you weren't a little nervous yourself, picking up on his hesitation.
He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, standing up straight and keeping his eyes trained on yours.
“I love you.”
You only blinked in response, lips parted in surprise.
“You don’t have to say it back if you don’t - “
“I love you - I love you, too.”
It was like letting go after holding your breath for so long, a sense of relief that couldn’t compare to anything else.
A wide grin crept onto his face, one he couldn’t hold back even if he tried. Your expression mirrored his - complete adoration for one another.
He was staring down at you the same way he had during dinner that night you first kissed. You’d wondered since then what it was, what made his pupils dilate when his eyes focused on yours or why he would tuck his lip between his teeth. You knew now that it was love.
“It’s gonna be even harder now to keep this - us - a secret,” he mumbled in a low voice. He brought his hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. He cupped your cheek after, unable to keep his hands off you.
“Well,” you bit the inside of your cheek, “we could tell them? Tell everyone, I mean.”
“Do you think you’re ready? I mean - not that I'm not ready, but I don't want you to feel rushed into anything.”
Your knees could’ve buckled right then and there at how truly sweet he was with you. You took his words into consideration and had a realization.
“We haven’t even really figured out what we are yet. What would we tell them?”
He nodded solemnly, grazing his thumb over your cheekbone, “Yeah, you’re right.”
You hoped this would be it - this would be the moment he finally told you that you were his girlfriend, you were something - but he gave a small smile and dropped his hand from your face.
“It’s getting late, we should get back before anyone notices we’re gone.”
You simply nodded, clearing your throat to replace the exasperated sigh you were about to let out.
You followed him on the way back, mind racing for the entirety of the short walk and drowning out anything Logan was saying. You wondered if he’d ever ask you that one question at all. Maybe he’d said he loved you to keep you hanging on, wrapped around his finger. Maybe it was meant to be casual and you’d misunderstood. 
But there was a bouquet of flowers in your hands. You’d fallen asleep on his chest more times than you could count, held hands at any moment you could and he did just tell you he loved you. So, maybe he did mean it.
As you snuck down the hallway to your bedroom with the arrangement of flowers, you wondered how long you’d have to keep this a secret.
Unbeknownst to you, it wouldn't be much longer.
It all came to a head when the team decided to go out to dinner together, settling on some chain restaurant. You’d coincidentally ended up next to Logan in the large booth, the both of you on the very end of the table. You were all reading from the menus and Marie piped up from across the table.
“Honey, do you wanna switch seats?”
She was talking to you. You didn't look up from the laminated paper in your hands, responding automatically without a second thought.
“Nah, I'm fine.”
She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and looked at Bobby, who only shrugged. You two never sat next to each other, usually bickering so intensely that you’d be asked to shut up or leave the table. 
The unusual interaction was soon forgotten when your drinks were brought over, the waitress placing them in front of each of you. She was pretty and her long hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Logan being on the very end made him the closest in proximity to her and you being so close meant that you could hear her hushed voice when she leaned down before she walked away.
“And here, this is for you.”
She slid a napkin onto the table, your eyes automatically drawn to the movement. There was a clear phone number written in ink, her name scribbled underneath next to a smiley face.
Everyone at the table had noticed the interaction and waited for Logan to speak after she walked away. Instead, they watched in curiosity as he silently slid the napkin under his drink, the ink bleeding immediately from the condensation on the outside of his glass.
“Okay, what's up with you?” Scott questioned from across the table.
Logan raised his eyebrows, “I don’t know, what's up with you?”
“I asked you first.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Marie chimed in then, leaning forward with her elbows on the table to interrogate him, “you always take girls’ numbers when they give ‘em to you. Why not hers?”
He shrugged, “just not interested.”
“I call bullshit.”
“Watch the language, kid.”
“Whatever, you’re so full of it!”
You pretended to be uninterested in the conversation, folding your napkin into unrecognizable shapes. 
“You know what? I think you might be in love,” she giggled, “you’ve been way too happy lately. Like, absurdly happy.”
You froze in place, gwaning on your bottom lip. 
It was true, though. He was waking up early, smiling more, making more jokes that weren’t at Scott’s expense - they really had never seen him so happy.
“Um,” he hesitated for a second when you stole a glance at him. He was smiling to himself already.
“I guess you could say that.”
Everyone turned to stare at him in mild disbelief, including you.
“What? I was just kidding! Oh my god, you didn’t tell us?” Marie exclaimed, “spill it!”
Jean and Ororo were smiling wide behind their hands and exchanging knowing looks.
“Well, she’s real pretty,” he started, “and she’s sweet.”
You were trying so hard to fight a smile, covering your mouth with your fist as you leaned an elbow on the table.
“I never thought i’d hear you talk about someone like that,” Marie knitted her eyebrows and stuck out her bottom lip - the kind of face you’d make when a kid confesses their first crush.
Logan rolled his eyes and scoffed, a grin stuck on his face. Marie was still asking questions, determined to not let the topic go till she knew every detail.
“Is she your girlfriend?”
Logan was nervously chewing on the inside of his cheek. He looked like he was thinking of an answer.
“Uh… I don’t know. I haven’t really asked her.”
You must have been pink all the way to the tips of your ears. You brought your glass of water to your lips, hoping it would help cool your face. 
“Why not?”
Marie was really not gonna let this go and you dreaded to hear the answer come out of his mouth.
Logan sighed, picking at the skin around his fingernails as a nervous habit.
“Just a little nervous, I guess. I don’t wanna screw it up.”
“A girl that makes you nervous? When do we get to meet her?” 
Your eyes were stuck on the wood grain of the table, both of your hands covering half your face at this point.
“When the time is right,” he responded, taking a sip of his drink.
Ororo rolled her eyes.
You’d all finished eating a good while later and the check came. After you’d both put cash down, he mumbled under his breath with his hand shielding his mouth.
“Meet me outside in a second, okay?”
He slipped out of his seat and you watched him disappear around the corner.
No one had noticed him leave his seat, too engrossed in conversation. After a minute or two, you muttered something about using the bathroom before you left the table and swiftly made your way back to the entrance you had come in through. It was starting to rain a little, barely drizzling.
Logan was standing in the parking lot with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. He beckoned you over when he saw you, taking your hand in his and leading you to a spot outside that wasn’t directly in front of the door. His nose was starting to turn pink from the cold evening air and your cheeks were doing the same.
“So,” he swallowed hard, brushing his thumb over your knuckles, “I guess it’s about time I asked you, huh?”
“Ask me what?’
You were smiling so wide that your face ached. You knew exactly what, but of course you wanted to hear him say it.
His expression mirrored yours and he let go of one of your hands so he could cup your face.
“Would you be my girl?”
It may have been a little juvenile - the teasing, the hiding, the avoidance of labeling what you had - but it had worked.
“I already am,” you told him, leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips. He happily reciprocated, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you even closer.
If either of you had taken a second to look around you first , you would’ve spotted the rest of the team turning the corner the second you kissed him. 
“No way!”
Marie’s squeal echoed through the parking lot and both of you jumped, turning towards the sound. You both stood in stunned silence, Logan’s arms still locked around your waist.
“Uh…” He was like a deer in headlights.
“I should’ve guessed,” Scott clicked his tongue, irritated that he hadn’t figured you out sooner.
“Guessed what? We’re - uh, we were just - “ Logan shot you a look, hoping you’d be able to think of something on the spot - even with his arms still locked around you. You could’ve squirmed out of his hold, made some unconvincing excuse about having something in your eye and needing his help. You almost did. Looking up at him, his features highlighted by the flood lights that illuminated the nearly empty lot and his cheeks peppered in rain drops, you had a realization. You didn’t want to lie. You didn’t feel the need to anymore. You weren’t afraid it wasn’t going to work or that you might be better off as enemies rather than lovers. Everything felt like it was finally right - as if every piece of your life finally fit into its perfect place. If you were wrong - fuck it. You’d deal with the consequences later if you had to. 
“Kissing. We were kissing - we’re dating,” you sputtered out to your friends, looking back to Logan after. You almost expected him to be embarrassed, to tell you to keep your mouth shut.
 But he was smiling. He was smiling wider than you’d probably ever seen. He leaned his head down to kiss your forehead affectionately, mumbling into your hair, “I guess the cat’s out of the bag now, huh?”
You hummed in affirmation and peeked back at everyone else. 
“How? Since when? Oh my god, I need to know everything,” Marie was as giddy as could be, nearly jumping up and down.
“Since they went on that mission where they had to pretend to be married,” Ororo piped up, “they liked pretending a little too much.”
You all began walking to the two cars you came in, Logan’s arm draped around your shoulders. He was holding you so close that you were practically stepping on his boots.
“Aw,” you heard Marie whisper to Bobby from behind you, “they’re so sweet together.”
“Now that they're not trying to kill each other? Yeah,” he replied with a small laugh.
“I thought you guys hated each other,” Scott said, “what happened?
“Well,” you smiled to yourself, “he’s a good fake husband, so I figured he might make an alright boyfriend.”
You stopped when you approached the car and Logan wrapped you into a tight embrace, your face smushed against his chest. You giggled into his shirt until he finally let you go.
“How’d you guys even keep it under wraps anyway?” Scott asked.
You looked up to Logan, “Willpower?”
He chuckled, “I don’t know, really,” he rested his hands at your waist, “I guess we got lucky that you guys aren’t too bright.”
Ororo lightly smacked the back of his shoulder, rolling her eyes but holding a smile on her face.
You all piled into the cars you’d came in - you, Logan, Marie and Bobby in one and Jean, Scott and Ororo in another - and made your way home. Logan drove and you sat beside him, his hand in yours for most of the ride.
When you all got home and everyone went off to their rooms, Logan stopped you with a gentle grip on your wrist.
“Would you, um,” he looked to the floor for a moment, biting back a smile, “would you maybe want to spend the night in my room?”
You and Logan had been alone together a handful of times, but never like that - in his bedroom. The thought made your palms start to sweat. It wasn’t that you hadn’t thought of it - you’d been together about a month now and every time you’d gotten the chance to make out, you usually didn’t have an opportunity to go any further. Someone would call your name, Logan’s phone would ring, you’d hear footsteps - always something to pull you apart. It was torture, knowing you could kiss him till his hands started to creep up your shirt or your hand rested on his belt buckle but never actually get to go any further.
“We don’t have to do anything but sleep,” Logan could see the hesitation in your expression, “whatever you’re comfortable with.”
“I’d love to,” you replied, letting him take your hand in his and lead you down the hall. 
“How about this - I'll change into pajamas in my room, you can change in yours and then come down,” he swiped his thumb over your knuckles, “is that alright?”
You almost wanted to insist you could change in his room - let him see you bare in front of him like you wanted for weeks - but you simply nodded and slipped your hand from his grasp as you walked the short distance to your room. After changing into a tank top and pajama shorts, you shuffled up to his door in your slippers and gave a small knock.
He answered in an instant, wearing sweatpants and his usual white beater. You unintentionally let out a sigh, eyes immediately scanning over his muscular torso under the thin white fabric. 
Christ, he’s hot.
“Everything alright, pumpkin’?”
It didn’t help that he was so damn sweet to you.
“Huh? Uh - yeah, I just,” you stopped, realizing there wasn’t much of a need for an excuse, “I like the way you look in that.”
You boldly reached out to playfully tug the hem. He smiled and used your hand on him to pull you out of the hallway and into his room, wrapping you in his arms. 
“Yeah?” He said softly, kissing your cheek and forehead before finally meeting your lips, “I like the way you look in these.”
His hand slid down to the hem of your shorts, hiking them up a little to squeeze your upper thigh.
You giggled, a blush forming across your cheeks.
“And you’re so damn cute,” he led you to his bed, laying down and patting the spot next to him, “c’mere, sweetheart.”
Still, even after all those weeks, the pet names made you feel weak in the knees.
You obeyed instantly, crawling onto the mattress and snuggling up next to him. You rested your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, steady and strong. 
Logan had a mirror across the room, coincidentally angled so that, from where you were, you could both see your reflection. He was playing with your hair when he began to stare at your reflection, smiling to himself.
“What?” You interrogated, looking up at him and then back to the mirror.
“We look good together,” he admitted, “well, you look good.”
You clicked your tongue, “are you kidding? Please, girls practically throw themselves at you.”
“Well, there’s only one girl I ever really wanted to throw herself at me.”
“I think you got your wish.”
You still had that spark - the back and forth quips and competitive nature - except that it was always something sweet now.
“I love you, a lot,” he muttered into the top of your head, pulling you as close as you could lay to him with your leg slung over his thighs.
“I love you too, Logan,” you smiled into his shirt, taking in the smell of him.
His hand came to rest on your thigh, gently kneading and squeezing. You already felt your breath quicken and heart start to race again as his fingertips traced the hem of your shorts. 
“Like I said,” he cooed, having picked up on your rapid heartbeat, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
Staring up at him, his large hand still kneading your upper thigh, you’d decided - just like in the parking lot earlier - you’d had enough of holding back. You swiftly brought yourself further on top of him, straddling his lap with your knees on either side. You didn’t give him time to protest as you cupped his face and kissed him in a slow mess of tongues and teeth, savoring the feeling of finally having him beneath you. It wasn’t long before his hands found home on your thighs, his fingers already slotting beneath the fabric of your shorts. He then slid his hands up to squeeze your ass, pushing you even further into him while your tongue explored the inside of his mouth. When you finally pushed yourself up with your hands on his chest, he almost looked dazed. 
“I wouldn’t start somethin’ you can’t finish,” he panted, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips.
“Oh, I think I’ll finish,” you joked, raising your eyebrows at the innuendo. 
“Yeah? I know you will.”
You squealed and giggled when he flipped you on your back, climbing over you and caging you in with his forearms on either side of your head. 
“Been wantin’ to get my hands on you like this forever, you know,” he continued with a wicked smile, peppering kisses from your jaw to your collarbone, “thinkin’ about you.”
“W-What were you thinking about?” you managed to stutter out, eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head when he began to lightly suck and bite at your warm skin.
“Having you here, in my bed. Getting to undress you, having your thighs ‘round my head.”
You nearly choked on your saliva at the filthy way he was mumbling against your skin and squeezing your hips.
“Me too,” was all you could say, lost in the feeling of his hands now sliding under your tank top, resting right below your tits.
“ ‘s that what you thought about?”
You can tell he wanted you to say it, let him know just how bad you wanted him.
“I thought about being in your bed, sitting on your lap,” you took a deep breath, “and having you - having you, uh…”
Your sentence trailed off, cheeks tinted pink.
“What, sweetheart? C’mon, don’t be shy. What do you want me to do, huh?”
He still knew how to tease you, even if it wasn’t out of spite anymore. 
“Fuck,” you swallowed audibly, “want you to eat me out, fuck me - anything.”
You sounded desperate and you knew it. You really didn’t care, too engrossed in everything about him to even consider it. 
“Really?”
Your eyes met his, filled with lust and ambition to please you any way you wanted. His lips were parted in surprise when he first heard your words, slowly turning into a devious smile.
“Please.”
That was all he needed to trail his lips down your shoulders, gently pushing the straps of your tank top down. He sat up to let you pull it off and if he wasn’t already set on worshiping you, he definitely was now.
You’d yanked the garment over your head and onto the floor, revealing your bare chest. 
Logan groaned, laying you back down and almost immediately latching his lips onto the newly exposed and incredibly soft skin. 
“So beautiful,” he mumbled against you as he took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue.
“Oh my god,” you huffed quietly, arching your back to push yourself even further into him.
He was trying to hold back a smug grin, switching between each breast, sucking and biting gently.
“ ‘s good, baby?”
You were lost for words, even more so when you could see the string of spit that connected his mouth to one of your tits.
“Mm-hm,” you hummed, your fingers having found their home in Logan’s hair. 
You whined when he pulled his mouth from you with an audible pop.
“Words, sweetheart,” he told you, his eyes glued to yours while he licked his own spit off his lips. 
“”Fuck, yes, yes -“
You were cut off by your own moan, gasping when you felt the pressure of his thigh in between yours. He slid his hands down your body to grab your ass in an attempt to grind you down on his leg.
“I like it when you make those noises for me,” he muttered into your chest, his hands still kneading your ass when he pulled you forwards.
You wanted him for so long that the reality of being with him had made you over sensitive to his touch. Even through the fabric of your panties and shorts, the feeling was intoxicating.
You were practically whining as he ground you down so hard that you were soaked all the way through your shorts and panties, the fabric of both sliding to the side.
“Fuck, you’re so wet already,” he chuckled a little, feeling the soaked patch on his sweatpants, “all for me?”
You hummed, hands tugging at his hair, “for-for you.”
His hands came around to the front of your shorts, his fingers hooking onto the fabric.
“Can I take these off you?”
“Please,” you responded immediately, already lifting your hips off the bed so he could drag your shorts down your legs. 
When he turned to throw them somewhere on the floor, he caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. Your chest was heaving and your hair was all over the place from rolling around in the bed. He could see that you were still looking up at him, even when he was turned away.
“I got an idea, scoot up a bit,” he told you suddenly when he turned back to face you. You moved forward on the mattress as he momentarily stood up, stripping himself of his beater. He sat behind you and arranged himself so that he was holding your back against his chest with his arms around your waist, his legs spread out so you could lay between them.
You instantly caught sight of your reflection in the mirror. Your head was leaned back on his shoulder and he planted delicate kisses down your neck.
“ ‘s that why you wanted to sit like this?” you nodded weakly in the direction of the mirror, your eyes nearly fluttering close when he slid one of his hands to rest on the inside of your thigh.
“You look real pretty, I wanna see all of you,” he explained, his middle finger grazing your cunt through your damp panties.
Your eyes were glued to your reflection - your legs spread with his hand between them and purple hickies darkening on your chest. Logan was staring at your reflection too, his mouth still working on your neck.
“Look at you, all spread out for me,” he mumbled into your ear, “so fucking gorgeous.”
You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips. If he kept saying all those filthy things, it wasn't going to take long before you were coming apart in his arms.
You shivered when his fingers hooked around the wet crotch of your underwear and moved it to the side.
You could hear him swear under his breath from behind you, his fingers barely grazing your heat.
“God, Logan,” you were squirming, trying to push your hips towards his hand, “you’re gonna make me beg?”
You could see him smirk into your shoulder in the mirror, “you know what?”
He moved his hands to drag your panties off, nearly tearing them in the process.
“Yeah, I am.”
He let his head fall back to rest on the headboard, lidded eyes staring into your reflection while his hands laid still on the outside of your hips - even farther away from where you wanted him. He really wasn’t going to move an inch until he heard you beg for it, though he couldn’t help himself from digging his fingers into your soft flesh.
You groaned in frustration, “Fucking hate you.”
“Nah, you don’t.”
His lips grazed your earlobe and you wanted to roll your eyes at the smug look on his face, “Now, c’mon, baby. Beg.”
You moved your hands behind you so you could thread your fingers through the hair at the back of his head.
“Fuck, please, Logan - need you.”
“Need me how?”
He really was an asshole.
“Need your hands - need your fingers, please,” you groaned.
“I don’t know, you think you’ve been a good girl? Think you deserve it?”
You would’ve been pissed at him had he not turned you on beyond belief. You gave in, becoming putty in his arms.
“ ‘m good - been good for you,” you whined, using one of your hands on his to try and move it between your legs, “please.”
He sighed, returning his hand back to the hot skin of your inner thigh, “Shit, need me that bad? Huh, pretty girl?”
You were so worked up you could have cried from his teasing. You nodded eagerly, attempting to clamp your thighs together to force his hand to at least graze your cunt that was dripping onto his sheets.
He clicked his tongue and used his strong hands on the inside of your thighs to spread your legs again, “Gotta keep ‘em open for me, sweetheart.”
He dragged two of his fingers between your folds, messily toying with you. You gasped, gripping his arm and inadvertently leaving imprints from your fingernails.
“So fucking wet,” he huffed, gaze glued to the reflection of your spread legs in the mirror, “Pretty pussy’s all mine.”
You were already whimpering and moaning from the slightest touch.
“ ‘s yours - fuck, I‘m-I’m yours,” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed.
He hummed in agreement, his fingers prodding at your entrance.
“Please, please, please,” you whined, trying to push your hips forward.
“I think you’ve been real good, angel,” he was slipping his fingers further into you at an agonizingly slow pace, “think you deserve it.”
You were whining and whimpering so loud that you were sure someone had to have heard you by now. You couldn’t help the noises slipping from your mouth, feeling like you’d black out just from the sight of Logan’s fingers slipping between your swollen lips and into your cunt.
When he finally thrusted his fingers into you all the way down to his knuckles, you brought a hand up to cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle what you knew would be a pornographically loud moan.
He clicked his tongue, grabbing at your wrist to tug your hand away.
“Uh-uh, baby,” he panted into your ear, curling his fingers inside you, “wanna hear you - want everyone to know who’s makin’ you feel good like this.”
His thumb started to draw circles around your clit in rhythm with the movement of his fingers and you could feel the pressure in your stomach starting to build.
“Fuck,” he cursed, his jaw hung open while he watched his fingers disappear inside you over and over again with ease, “takin’ my fingers so well. I think you’d take somethin’ else real well, too.”
The intent of his words nearly drove you over the edge, your mind unable to stop conjuring up images of what it would be like when he finally did fill you like you’d wanted him to.
“Logan, Logan, I’m -,” you groaned, so close to finally coming on his fingers.
Until he slipped them out of you and pulled his hand away completely.
You choked out a sob, squeezing your eyes shut in frustration.
“I’m gonna let you finish, don’t worry,” he promised. You watched him suck his fingers clean before he used his arm around you to rearrange you both so that he was laying on his back and you were facing him with your legs straddling his torso. You could feel his erection poking at your ass and you licked your lips when you imagined being able to take him in your mouth, letting him fuck your throat to the point that your chin and the base of his cock were coated in your drool.
“C’mere, sweetheart,” Logan’s voice brought you out of thought and you let him guide your legs up until your knees were on either side of your head.
You looked down at him in curiosity, not yet understanding what it was he wanted to do.
Noticing your expression, he wrapped his arms around your thighs to pull your dripping pussy closer to his mouth.
“I’m gonna let you finish, baby, but it’s gotta be on my mouth. Sit.”
“You…” you hesitated for a second, feeling your face redden, “you want me to sit on your face? What if I crush you? Or suffocate you?’’
He chuckled at your concern, lovingly caressing your thighs, “You won’t, trust me. It’ll feel good, I promise. Besides, If you did suffocate me? I don’t think I’d wanna go any other way.”
You laughed nervously and let him pull you down further, sinking onto his face. His tongue swiped up your folds and you gripped the headboard so you wouldn’t fall forward.
“Jesus, Logan,” you gasped, your other hand gripping his hair, “feels so fucking good.”
“Uh-huh, told you, princess. Jus’ lemme take care of you,” he mumbled into your pussy, eating you like he was starved. He moved his head back and forth and up and down to lick every inch of you he could.
“I think I would’ve - ah, would’ve said somethin’ to you much sooner if I knew you could do this,” you joked a little, your small chuckle turning into a gasp when he slipped his tongue even further down so he was inside you. He hummed into you, his nose nudging against your clit. You began to grind your hips back and forth over his mouth, drunk off the way he moved his tongue.
“Atta girl,” he grunted, “use me, c’mon.”
His hairy arms were hooked around your thighs like a vice, to the point that you couldn’t lift your hips even if you wanted to. When his eyes weren’t trained on you above him, they were squeezed shut in an attempt to savor every second his tongue was in your pussy. He was pulling your thighs forward every time you rocked yourself back and forth, desperate to feel you come on - in - his mouth. 
You could already feel the pressure building in your stomach. The obscene wet noises coming from his mouth messily eating your cunt didn’t do much to ease it, either. Your eyes rolled back and you continued to ride his face, mouth hung open in ecstasy. Logan could tell you were close just from how sloppy your movements had become. 
“Gonna come for me already, honey?”
You hated how hot it was when he teased you, mocked your desperation.
“Fuck, yeah,” you groaned, your hips rolling forward.
“Lemme see it, pretty girl, come for me.”
You gasped at the filth spilling from his lips into you. It was more than enough to finally make the tension snap in your lower stomach, still rocking your hips over his mouth while you whimpered his name over and over again like a prayer.
Logan was practically growling into your cunt, feeling your muscles contract around his prodding tongue. He was trying to catch anything that possibly came from your release. You tasted good, but when you finished? Even fucking better.
“Lo-Logan, too much, s’ too much,” you tried to protest as he kept your thighs locked around his face, still lapping at you without slowing his pace. He hummed in response and finally let you go when he was sure he’d licked you clean.
You lifted your hips and moved to sit beside him on your heels, almost in pain at the loss of physical contact. When you finally got to see his face, his lips were red and raw, his chin and even the side of his cheeks coated in your slick. You watched in awe as he wiped his cheek, bringing his hand up to his mouth after to lick it clean.
“Taste fucking amazing,” he assured you, keeping his eyes on yours when he sucked on one of his fingers.
You caught sight of his obvious and rather large erection and your mouth began to water. Once again, you were lost in the thought of how good it would be to feel the weight of his cock in your mouth.
“You alright, baby?”
“Yeah, I - um,” you sighed, leaning forward on your hands, “can I - can I have it in my mouth? Just for a little bit?”
Your hand rested on his hip, fingers grazing the waistband of his sweatpants, dangerously close.
“Shit,” he huffed, his cock twitching from the anticipation, “you wanna?”
You nodded eagerly, pulling his pants and boxers down his thighs when he lifted his hips.
“Hey,” he tenderly stopped your hand as you reached to touch him, “I’m tellin’ you now, girl -  you can suck it ‘cause you asked so nicely but I’m not comin’ unless it’s in you.”
He let go of your wrist and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, continuing to speak.
“I can fill your throat another time, yeah?”
You were speechless, lidded eyes switching from his face to his swollen cock and back again. You nodded in agreement.
You guessed Logan would be big - he was generally a large guy - but you could feel the drool gathering in your mouth when his cock sprung out of his boxers to hit his stomach. He was fucking huge. You might’ve been nervous if you weren’t so eager to fit him into your mouth. You finally leaned down to wrap a hand around the base of his cock, softly licking at his leaking tip.
Logan threaded your hair between his fingers, gathering as much as he could to form a makeshift ponytail that was held together by his fist. 
“Like seein’ your pretty face. You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?”
His words only spurred you on and you gathered as much saliva as possible so you could spit onto his cock. When you did, you started to stroke him in a slow rhythm that had him rocking his hips towards your hand already. His mouth hung open and his eyes were glued to your movements, watching you work your hand up and down. Your spit coated your hand and his cock to the point that it was dripping down his balls.
The moment you finally closed your mouth around him, he was practically a mess.
You took him as deep as you could, relaxing your throat and steadily breathing. You gagged as his tip hit the back of your throat and he groaned. He watched your head bob up and down while you simultaneously stroked whatever you couldn’t fit into your mouth. He huffed out your name in between cursing under his breath. His gaze caught the mirror he’d nearly forgotten about and he could’ve came just from the sight of your mouth drooling around him.
“So good, baby,” he sighed, licking his lips, “you look so pretty suckin’ my cock.”
You reveled in the praises spilling from his lips. Chasing more, you used your hand that wasn’t around him to cup his balls and massage gently. He actually whimpered and you could feel Logan’s legs start to shake a bit.
“Alright, enough - ,” he grunted, using his grip on your hair to pull your mouth from him and push your hand away.
You almost looked hurt, pouting while looking between him and his glistening cock. Truthfully, you liked the taste of him. Loved it, really, so much so that you had to hold back from diving right back into position. Just the idea had you clenching your thighs together when you thought of it. When your mouth was already on him? You were so wet again that it was starting to smear across your inner thighs.
“Sorry, doll,” he apologized while swiping fallen strands of hair from your face, “too close.”
It felt exhilarating being able to turn big, bad, scary Wolverine into a whimpering mess after only a couple minutes in your mouth.
“I’m gonna come in you,” he reiterated, “gonna make you mine.”
You just about melted into putty from his words.
“ ‘m yours, ‘v been yours.”
Your voice was desperate and you crawled onto him, straddling his hips. Your bare cunt slid against the base of his cock and his hips jerked up.
“Fuck,” he panted, “you wanna know somethin’? Been thinking about this for so long, even when I thought you hated me - I couldn’t help it.”
“Me too,” you replied, hands on his chest to steady yourself, “even when I thought you hated me. Used to think - to think about jus’ getting you alone.”
“Yeah?” He teased, one of his hands coming down to align his cock with your entrance, “what did you think about doing when you got me alone, hm?”
“I - ah, f-fuck,” you tried to speak, stuttering when he started to slip himself in as slowly as possible, “letting you fuck me, having - having your fingers in me.”
“So, is it as good as you imagined?”
“Mm,” you tried to respond and only whined from the pressure of Logan pushing you down further onto his cock and stretching you out, “better, it’s better.”
“You think you can take all of it, sweetheart?”
“I need it, please, please, Logan - need you.”
You could rarely recognize your own voice, strained and desperate.
“Only ‘cause you begged so nice.”
In one hard thrust, he pushed your hips down onto his.
Your jaw hung open and your eyes rolled back into your head. You’d never felt so fucking full before, like he reached every inch of where you wanted him. 
“Fucking - Christ, Logan, you - ah,” your sentence was cut off when he began to grind up into you, using his grip on your hips to keep you steady and gently help guide you up and down. 
“Hm? What, baby?”
When you sat back down on him, he used an iron grip to keep you where you were, pushing himself as far into you as he possibly could. The friction on your clit made your pussy twitch and he definitely felt it, pulling you back and forth a little bit.
Again, you couldn’t speak - too distracted by the indescribable feeling of having him sheathed completely inside you. Your eyes started to water, tears forming from the overwhelming pleasure in the pit of your stomach. 
“Fuck me,” you nearly sobbed, leaning forward to bury your face in his neck, “please, please.”
He finally let you lift your hips up and down again and you were a whining fucking mess. Logan could see over your shoulder into the mirror and he marveled at the white ring you left around the base of his cock every time you lifted your hips. You were messy, exactly how he wanted you - he’d probably lick you clean after, if you’d let him.
You were rambling into his neck, panting, “so fucking - you’re so big, oh my god, need you all - ah - all the time.”
He was smirking to himself, smug from how he was able to fuck you to the point that you were just letting go completely - telling him every thought that popped into your mind while you were still on top of him. You worked yourself up to a steady rhythm and he indulged in the image of your tits bouncing above him when you sat up. 
“So good, honey - takin’ me so well, like you were made for me,” he groaned. His eyes never left yours.
“ ‘m made for - for you,” you slurred, rolling your hips.
“That’s right, sweetheart. Who’s this pussy belong to, huh? Tell me.”
“Yours, I - it’s yours, Logan.”
Your thighs started to ache pretty quickly, your pace faltering as he kept steadily drilling up into you. 
“Are you sore, baby? You wanna switch?”
His voice was so soft in comparison to how he was speaking moments earlier through gritted teeth. You nodded and let him lay you on your back, climbing over you and caging you in with his forearms on either side of your head. He placed a tender kiss on your forehead, both cheeks, the tip of your nose and finally, your lips. You were absolutely giddy from the sickly sweet moments you shared inbetween the times where he was fucking you so hard you were out of breath. 
Your ankles locked behind Logan’s back to pull him into you while he tried to guide himself with his hand. He slipped back in effortlessly and ground his hips forward, pinning you down to the mattress. One of his arms was snaked around your back to hold you closer and the other was holding your wrists together above your head.
His hips rolled forward and he hit a spot inside of you that made the fire in the pit of your stomach rise.
You choked out a sob and tried to squirm in an attempt to free your wrists, but you both knew there was no way you’d wiggle out of his grip unless he let you. To no surprise, a man made of mostly metal was almost impossibly strong when he pinned you down with his hands and hips.
“I gotcha’.” he panted, so close that your noses brushed together when he thrust forward, “you’re not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.”
As if you’d want to move from your spot underneath him.
Your eyes caught the shining metal of the dog tags hanging from his neck, swinging back and forth over your chest when he moved. When you looked back up to his face, his eyes were boring into yours. His face was flushed and his mouth hung open, sweat accumulating on his brow. He looked fucking gorgeous. You were going to tell him so, try to lean up to kiss him, but he spoke again before you could.
“I’m in love with you - ‘m so in love with you, you know that?”
The pace of his thrusts quickened and you could’ve cried at the sincerity had he not been drilling into you so hard that you could barely open your eyes.
“I - I’m, ah - in love with - with you, too,” you choked out between gasps.
“So pretty,” he muttered, finally letting go of your wrists so he could hold your chin to force you to keep your eyes on him, “i’m so fucking lucky.”
It was all too much - the sincere adoration in his voice combined with the filthy way he was snapping his hips into yours - and you could feel the knot in your lower stomach start to come undone.
“Logan, fuck, I’m -,” you tried to tell him you were close, but his thrusts were knocking the wind out of you.
“God, please - c’mon, c’mon,” he was pleading through gritted teeth, trying with everything in him to hold back from coming before you did. His hand slipped between your bodies so he could draw tight circles around your clit and your eyes squeezed shut in ecstacy. 
You were chanting his name after a couple more strokes, tears rolling down the side of your face while he pounded you through your orgasm. You were practically seeing stars, your legs shaking around his waist.
He could feel your muscles contract around him and his movements became sloppy. He was grunting with every roll of his hips, muttering praises under his breath.
So fucking pretty
Look so beautiful like this
So perfect
He was spilling into you seconds later, animalistically groaning into your ear. His hips slowed to a halt, his arms still wrapped around you. You were both shiny and sticky with sweat, panting with flushed faces. When he pulled his face from your ear, he was beaming like an idiot, already drowsy.
“Was that good, baby?”
He was still out of breath, using one arm to weakly hold himself above you while he stroked your hair. 
“Are you serious? More than good,” you chuckled, “amazing.”
He tenderly kissed your forehead and rolled beside you, immediately wrapping you in his arms.
“Don’t we have to clean up?” you asked, eyes already starting to flutter closed.
“Mhm,” he hummed, nuzzling his face into the back of your neck, “can do it later - wanna cuddle.”
You grinned wide, amused by how damn cute he was. You simply hummed in agreement, resting your hand over his.
“Logan?”
“Mm?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
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A/N: I had to close my laptop and walk away a a couple time while writing this so I hope it drives you as insane as it did me! I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure
If you enjoyed, thank you for reading and pls like/reblog!! <3 and thank u sm for the love on part 1!
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kroosluvr · 5 months ago
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featherman seeker
as usual da cele notes under cut
had to get some food so thsi si late... i lterally gluedm yself to my chair to finish this LMAOAO
all of the not-dialogue is just straight up lines frm featherman seeker LMAOOO just rearranged
this takes place during 3rd semester (see: infiltration log on wall on 4th page, also their winter clothes strewn around akira's room) after drawing it i was rereading like oh u cld prob see this as like post-third semester but nah i intended it to be such BECAUSE
i rock w the canon that sumire has no clue abt akechi's past and black mask and the mental shutdowns and shido and the engine room she doesnt know hes supposed to be dead, that he sacrificed himself, etc. so ofc shes going thru the game like yayyy featherman yay and her sort of naivete Gets thru to goro. i imagine this is like idk a game he played in childhood bc he was a featherman fan but now revisiting it bc sumire wanted to try it, hes like. damn. this kinda. uh. well thats crazy how things line up. so i think it kinda grates at him but sumi's excitement and like. enjoyment! of it kinda helps him also enjoy it more
SO LIKE He knows he's going to die. He knows thats how grey pigeon's story ends. but he's happy here, and now, with the people he loves, so that makes it All right for now. it's a sad story but it's the good ending.
also i forgor how/where/when goro exactly Actualizes back into existence but can u imagine if he spawned right into the winter wonderland of shibuya square like (head in hands) smth so like. isolating abt it. in a crowd of ppl being excited over christmas and hes like what the hell im supposed to be Dead right now.
also "you are not alone" in the first panels very important..... right under hte panel w goro and sumi side by side :') yea
ryuji and ann holding akira back. YEA.
i really like the 3rd slide. the colors mmmm BUT YEAH so its goro/akira fighting/saving sumire, hanging out at jazz jin, last stand against adam kadmon, then goro holding sumi and akira's hands in the snow, then them smiling :') kinda like a procession of memories, or to-be memories or whatever
ANYWAY this is also like part of my whatever canon divergence where the royal trio section of 3rd sem is just longer for no reason . (aka: the thieves take longer to win over to their side, idk maruki gives u a longer time on the deal, etc etcetc.) just more royal trio time :3
sumibun akimeow and gorodog in 4th img... hidden.... also tennis rackets. ALSO THE LITTLE POLAROIDS Important. and all their clothes! i imagine they stay over at leblanc A Lot. akira prob convinces sojiro to Keep morgana at his house LOL and he handles the business and stuff just so they can have their safe haven while they struggle to try and win the thieves back and infiltrate the palace etc . (I kinda have a comic or something in the works for this)
more abt dialogue choices
"it's tough for a tutorial stage" - this means smth. i didnt think this thru 100% ASKJDHASDKJA but its to do w akechi's life and how everything was so fucking difficult for him as a kid when it shouldnt have been.
"is the second phase giving you trouble" - also smth to do w akechi. (As u can see these are all half baked metaphors) smth to do w his 'second life" aka: third semester being Difficult. because now he has sumire and akira and he doesn't want to leave them, so dying the 2nd time is gonna suck real bad.
i like shuakesumi btw
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jilsthings-rb · 8 months ago
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CAN I GET AN AMEN IN THE HOUUSEEE YOOWWWWWWWWWWWWZAAAAAAAAA‼️‼️‼️‼️🔥🔥💢🔥‼️‼️🔥🔥‼️💢‼️💢🔥🔥‼️‼️‼️🎉‼️🎉🎉🎉🎉‼️🔥💪🔥💪‼️💢🔥💢🎉🎉🎉🎉‼️‼️🔥🔥💢💢‼️‼️💢🔥💢‼️💢‼️💢🎉🎉🎉‼️🔥🔥
I Really Wanna Stay at Your House
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Sypnosis: Pico invites Lara to sit down and talk with him. What she didn't expect is the reason for it.
Ship: Pico/Lara 💚🩷
Word Count: 3k
WARNINGS: Hurt/Comfort, Degradation (Pico @ himself, I need to save this man). Not sure what else so lmk!
Happy PicoLara Anniversary!!! The long awaited fic is finally here! Just as a little funfact but this was originally supposed to be a comic but the script got too long bc I kept writing... oops. So it's a fic now! Hope it's a good read still. I haven't written in a long while and this isn't completely proofread but enjoy still 🫶
DNI: prosh1p/comsh1p do not even touch this post.
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May 13th, 2024. Monday afternoon. Today was their anniversary, and it was luckily a quiet and slow day. At least it was supposed to.
Pico finds himself seated on the couch, back slouched on the backrest, fiddling his fingers as he was staring at the ceiling. He was feeling nervous.
He wasn't usually like this most of the time, especially on days like these. But today was different, because today, he invited his girlfriend to sit down and talk with him because there was something important he wanted to mention. No, it wasn't about the anniversary– they were both fully aware of that already. It was something more personal to him, something that has been troubling him for quite a while now. He couldn't start on that conversation just yet though, because she wasn't there with him.
She was still in their bathroom cleaning herself up. He had knocked on the door prior to this– asking her to join him on the couch once she was done. She agreed of course, and now he was just waiting for her to finish. But as every second passed by, he was starting to get a little more restless.
He was alone with his thoughts for the time being, his mind swirling around the topic he wanted to talk about with her. It was terrifying, imagining all the made-up scenarios on how this one conversation he'll have with his girlfriend could go wrong. He should really try looking on the brighter side more often, but right now he can't.
Right now he feels his stomach twist and turn, and it almost makes him want to throw up. He clenches one of his hands into a fist until the knuckles turn white, forgetting his own strength of all things. He hates how uneasy he gets with simple confrontation, even though this wasn't a confrontation at all. It was really just a simple little talk. But the fear of it still gnaws at him from the inside out.
All those negative thoughts die once Lara enters the room.
"Hey, what's up?" She smiles, and it's as almost as bright as the sun that's shining through the window. Maybe if Pico stares hard enough, he could see the faintest outline of a halo right above her head.
He notes her appearance briefly. She's wearing shorts and a loose tank top. Her hair was slightly fluffed up, an effect of hair-drying such thick hair after taking a shower. She looked so relaxed and refreshed, and it makes his heart skip a beat. She looks so pretty.
Pico clears his throat as he finally loosens up, lifting one hand up to wave at her. "Hi, hey." He greets, and the words come out more quiet than he'd like. He feels like he's staring. He's definitely staring. It's so obvious to her that it makes her chuckle, the soft laughter finally snapping him out his trance.
"Here, take a seat." He moves to one side of the couch, making room for her to sit on.
Once she's seated, she looks at him expectantly. "So..." She starts, looking off to the side momentarily before returning her gaze on him.
Being on the spotlight like this makes a lump form in Pico's throat. There it was again, that sinking feeling of how this whole thing could go wrong. He clears his throat once more, pushing his fear back before speaking.
"So... about what I wanted to talk about." He pauses, trying to find the right words to describe the topic he has in mind. "It's... well, pretty serious."
"Did something go wrong?" She instantly asks. She tried to keep it casual, wanting to keep the light and airy atmosphere despite the topic (whatever it may be). But she couldn't stop the worry that slips in her tone when speaking, her protectiveness starting to override.
"No, no- everything's fine actually. I mean it as- this is really important, at least to me." He explains, and it makes her sigh in relief. He wouldn't want to give her a heart attack this early on.
"I'm listening."
"Well, you see... it's not really easy to talk about."
"Something personal?" She asks carefully, wanting to make sure she's not overstepping any boundaries. She knows he should know he can decline answering if it touches on something private.
"I guess you can consider it that way." He answers with a shrug, seeming unsure himself if it could be deemed as such.
"Well, whatever it is, take your time. I'm listening whenever you’re ready."
"Right, uhm..." He mutters, finding himself a lot more hesitant all of a sudden. He doesn't know why he still finds himself this way, scared to open up and be vulnerable still. The person across him has witnessed him at his complete worst. They've both been through hell and back for each other, yet there's still unease despite it all.
He gulps again, trying to swallow down his dread. "It's just..." He groans, and it frustrates him how complicated he's finding this. "It's- it's really not that easy. I-"
"Hey, it's okay." She immediately tries to reassure him, reaching out to hold him. Her hand rests gently on his arm, hoping it provides some form of comfort. "Like I said, take your time. But if you can't tell me then there's no need to force it-"
"But I want to tell you!" He cuts off, his face practically pleading. "I've been dying to tell you this and it's killing me, I-"
"Pico-"
"Lara," he grips her by the arms, white eyes staring straight into her own. "You are the love of my life and the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. You've stuck by my side after all this time even after everything. After every breakdown, argument, every time we'd wake up in the middle of the night because one of us had a nightmare. Even after I've hurt you-"
"So did I-" She's confused and startled. She wasn't expecting this yet she's still listening. She just couldn't help but butt in during that one sentence.
Pico huffs. "That's not the point. My point is that you still stayed. Stayed to love me, care for me. Made the best out of the fucking mess I am. Everything. And I just-"
"Pico-"
"You're everything. You're seriously fucking everything to me and I- I don't know where I'd be without you. Not here, not right now that's for sure. I'd probably- no, I'd definitely be dead sooner or later if you didn't come into my life."
"That's not true!"
"It is. It fucking is and you know it."
"Pico- please," she's the one pleading now, worried on where his words are going. Although she appreciates his adoration for her, she didn't want it to come at the cost of him demeaning himself. "I- you're shaking."
"You're just... I don't want to loose you." He admits weakly as he looks down, feeling his grip loosen when she moves his hands away. They're wrapped around hers now, slender and soft fingers cradling his shaky and calloused ones. He intakes a breath of air and it's an unsteady one. "I can't loose you."
"I'm not going anywhere, love. You know that." She responds, gripping his hands tightly into hers. "We've talked about this. I'll always be right here for you, just like you will for me."
"You're- that's not-"
"What? What's not? Explain it to me, I don't-"
"Fuck. Just-" He's exasperated now. He knows he's not making any sense and the conversation isn't going the way he wants it to. But he just can't bring himself to say the right words. The direct ones.
It's when he finally pulls a hand free from her hold, reaching into his pocket before dragging something out. He places the item on the palm of her hand, albeit a bit roughly.
"Just take it."
"Wh-" She's so much more confused now.
When she finally looks down and reluctantly opens her hand, she finds a small, golden colored band, with a shimmering stone encased neatly on it that she knows is worth thousands. It's settled gently on her palm, and that's when realization hits her.
He was proposing to her.
"Pico- This is-"
When she looks up to look at the ginger, she finds him facing away from her. He was trembling ever so slightly and... is that sniffling she hears?
Oh.
It makes her sigh, free hand reaching out to tap him gently on the shoulder. The action makes him flinch for a second, but she hopes it makes her lover look at her once more.
"Pico..." she says softly.
He slowly turns around to face her again, and that's when she sees it. The state of his face, eyes filled with tears that couldn't stop themselves from spilling, and the flush on his cheeks that was evident. This isn't the first time she saw him get this emotional, but the reasons for such a breakdown is different this time around. It makes her sigh again, reaching her free hand out to hold him.
"Oh, Pico... love..."
"'m sorry."
"Don't be."
She softly whispers, cradling his face now, letting her thumb wipe away some of his tears gently. It makes him instinctively lean into her touch, nuzzling into the palm of her hand despite the wetness. Soon enough, he moves closer, starting to embrace her now as he hides his face away into the crook of her neck. She lets him do so, the action second-nature as she moves her hand to his back now, starting to rub soothing circles on it.
"I could've worded this whole thing better." He mutters, his breath hitting her skin and making her hair tingle.
"You did fine."
"No I didn't. I'm such an idiot."
She sighs once more, a bit more frustrated this time. "You're not! You're the smartest person I even know honestly." She contends, not tolerating his degrading comments any longer.
"Seriously though, you did okay, I promise."
Pico merely stays quiet, gripping his hands a little tighter on her waist as he contemplates things. The silence takes over for a few minutes, but it doesn't bother her. Not one bit, at all. She'd wait for eternity on him if she needed to, but luckily she didn't have to when she hears his voice once more.
"You don't have to... y'know, say yes."
"Now why would I do that?" She tilts her head to try and look at him, even though the only thing she can really see is the back of his head.
He hums for a moment. "Multitude of reasons. Main one is that you aren't ready."
"Well, are you ready?" It felt redundant to ask such a question, considering he did just propose to her. But knowing him? She knows immediately that despite him taking initiative- he still had some reservations in doing this whole thing. She knows him like the back of her mind at this point, and it wouldn't exactly hurt to ask still.
Just as she expected, she feels the hands on her waist grip tighter for a moment, while the face that was hiding in the crook of her neck lets out a muffled answer. That was all she needed to know his true feelings. He was still hesitant.
"I'm taking that as a no, then?"
"No- I mean-" He finally looks up to her now, revealing his face from hiding. His eyes meets her once again and it makes him feel like he's caught red-handed. His voice was a bit more raspy and strained, but he cleared his throat before speaking again to let his words sound clearly.
"It was... hard. I thought about it a lot, so many times, for a long, long time." He admits now, his voice slow and almost quiet from the shame he feels. "Every time I thought of proposing, it scared me shitless. I didn't feel ready- I wasn't at all ready. But the more time flew past us, the more scared I got about losing you. Scared you'd get bored eventually with how long we're still dating. But it also felt too soon. But I still wanted to show you much you mean to me- how precious you are. But I'm still-"
"Hey. Hey, breathe. you're shaking again."
"Sorry, I-" He intakes a deep breath of air. When that wasn't enough, she guides him with a breathing exercise to help calm his nerves properly. When she sees he's finally relaxed, she speaks up.
"It's okay. It really is." She gives him a gentle smile, wanting to reassure him. "I can understand how hard this is for you, I'm not mad at you or blame you for feeling scared. But I want you to know I'd never get bored or leave you just because we've been dating for so long now. Do you really think I'd throw away all of this—what we have—just because you haven't proposed to me sooner?"
"No, but..." He trails off, realizing soon enough how she has a point.
It was purely paranoia on his part, clouding his common sense and reasoning. Even after all the progress they did to lessen it and make him feel safe in this relationship, the doubts still crawl back into his mind every now and then. Now is one of those moments. His face shows the inner conflict that he's going through, and it makes her frown. She places the ring in her hand on her side for a moment, before using that same hand to cradle his face fully to make him look at her again.
"I love you. I love you so much, Pico. I could care less when you'd propose to me, so please don't worry about it too much. Do it whenever you're ready."
"But I want to do it now. I want you to- I just want to show how you're everything to me. I don't want to push this back any further."
"So are you proposing now?"
His breath hitches, but he nods. "Yes."
"Then I do. I mean- sorry," she giggles, and it makes the ginger chuckle in response too. "I mean yes. Yes, I will marry you."
His features finally relax as it contorts to give out a relieved smile. His laughter becomes louder now, more joyful as he wraps his arms around her tightly. It pushes her back onto the couch with him on top of her now, still embracing her as he sounded and seemed so happy. It makes her laugh back in response, the laughter contagious.
"I'm glad. I’m so fucking glad..." He sighs, before pausing for a moment as he looks up to her. "Ah, where's the ring actually?"
"Oh, I set it down somewhere on the-"
"Found it." He says with a chuckle before lifting himself up from his fiancé now. Right, she was his fiancé now, and so was he to her. He could get used to calling her that.
He sits up properly to look at her now, and it makes her do the same. He holds out his hand to her, making her understand immediately and comply as she put her hand on top of his.
Slowly and gently, he slots the diamond ring into place, watching as it glimmers slightly. Once it was in place, Lara brings her hand up to admire it, shifting her hand in different angles as she observed the precious ring now wrapped around her finger. It makes her smile.
"It looks beautiful." She whispers.
"Glad you like it."
"Like it? I love it! But also... you shouldn't really have gotten me something so expensive."
He scoffs. "But you deserve it."
"I'm scared I might loose something so precious. The guilt of doing so would eat me alive."
"Nonsense. I'm sure it wouldn't slip off your finger that easily. How does it feel?" He eyes the ring closely now, running his thumb over the jewelry to check if he got the right size for her.
"Fits perfectly." She answers, and that alone makes his insides swell with pride.
"See? No need to worry. Even if you did loose it, I don't mind buying a new one."
"Pico!"
"Whaaat?" He shrugs innocently, but there's already a clear smirk on his face that he was anything but such. "Buying that one didn't even leave a dent in my savings. Surely another one wouldn't hurt." He says it so playfully that the angel couldn't help but just sigh.
"You're unbelievable."
"C'mon. Let me spoil you every now and then." He wraps her arms around her once more, gently guiding them both down to lay on the couch again. He nuzzles his face into her neck and it makes her laugh.
"It's not that- just..." She looks away as she hesitates on continuing, her cheeks heating up from the next few words she thought of saying. It only makes the ginger all the more curious, trying to encourage her to speak up. When she does, her voice is soft and quiet, and reasonably so.
"Save the rest of your money when we settle down, yeah?" She says sheepishly, but there's also a hint of sweetness to it. It doesn't help the gentle expression she has on that sets butterflies loose in his stomach.
"So soon?" He teases, although it did make his heart skip a beat just thinking about it. "Not like I can get more as extra."
"I'm just saying. Better to be safer than sorry."
"Fine, fine." He sighs playfully, surrendering to his lover's decision. He moves his head to be on top of hers now, pressing their foreheads together. There's that same adoration in his eyes as he whispers. "Love you."
She can't help but chuckle, smiling as she returns the same gaze. She feels her heart swell with the love she has for this man that it almost feels overwhelming. "Love you too." She replies, before feeling the soft press of his lips against hers.
She moves her hands upward to run through his hair, and it makes him smile during it. They'll be here for a while.
#OH MY HEAD HURTS MY HEAD HURTS IT IS THROBBING#LOOK IM GOING TO SKIP THROUGH YOUR SKILL IN WRITING BECAUSE LIKE EVERYONE SAYS ITS GOOD. I'M GOING TO GO PAST COMPLIMENTING#BECAUSE IM GOIGN TO ANALYZE THE WRITING VERY HARD WATCH ME WATCH ME WATCH MY TAG LIMIT WARNING IS IMPENDING BUT SO IS ME YELLING AT YOU#PICOFIOO MY BROTHERRRRR MY GREEN LOSER /LH OHYNHKOFDD I WAS NOT PREPARED FOR THAT 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#the way this was set up - i did not even think in the slightest that this was going to be a proposal because first of all it was AT HOME#and secondly he passes this off as a NORMAL CONVERSATION THIS BITCH IS TRYING TO PROPSE THIS IS A SPECIAL DAY FOR THE SPECIALEST LOVERS CMON#I DEFINITELY THOUGHT THIS WAS SOME SORT OF INTERVENTION - MAYBE EXPRESSING HIS WORRIED AND SHE'D BE COMFORTING HIM OR WHATEVER#because the way pico fuckig talked dude it felt like he was about to vent to her discord style/lh HE WAS ALREADY EMOTIONAL#BUT LIKE BORDERLINE AGGRESSIVE - HE HAD A WHOLE ROLLERCOASTER GOING ON he was like lara you are so important to me. -> I can't lose you ->#NO FUCKING LISTEN I CAN'T FUCKING LOSE YOU I SWEAR -> cries like a bebe wiwiwiiw sniff ue ue -> (he is actually proposing to her)#WHEN I TELL YOU I KEPT RAISING MY EYEBROW LIKE GOD JUST SAY IT ALREADY (I KNOW HE'S PROCESSING HIS EMOTIONS BUT FOR ME AS A READER I WAS-#- LIKE. OHMY GOD GET STRAIGHT TO IT I'M ITCHING TO KNOW WHAT'S THE CONTEXT OF THE CONVERSATION)#and then he says here take this and then my eyes nearly popped out of the socket HE DIDNT HAVE TO SAY IT HE HAD TO SHOW IT BITCHHHHH#TAKING IN ALL THISE CONTEXT CLUES (EMOTIONAL) (I CAN'T LOSE YOU) (TAKE THIS) IT'S A FUCKING RING BITCHHHH!!!!!!#BY THE WAY AT THE LITERAL MOMENT I READ “here take this” and understood - I /GEN YELLED LOUDLY MY MOM GOT SCARED AND ALSO TOTO RIP DOGGIE#hes an emotional trainwreck bro he cant even help himself with it thank the HEAVENS ( ha. ) she was prepared to say yes#genuinely enjoy his quick recovery - all he needed was her to say something and it was something he was aching to do but was afraid -#but she was quick to say yes and just have him released from his anxiousness like he recovered fast but it's not funny because its beautiful#he really needed that#she was very chill (and she did intend to not come off as intimidating) about this whole thing and even abt the dating for years topic#its never too late to propose to someone and id argue the dating phase is really important because you need to know that you trust them -#and thats ironically the most difficult part in relationships so pico my guy nothing wrong with waiting. she is never bored of you ya#so does that mean you're bumping him to the fiance title? or it's just for the fic? like you're putting him on the same tier as teppei#I MEAN THEY'RE IN THE SAME TIER OF LOVE BUT I KNOW PICO IS LABELLED “DATING” AND TEPPEI IS “MARRIED” - PICO FIANCE NOW?#WELL ANYWAY 😭😭 I WAS THERE TWO YEARS AGO AND THEY'RE STILL ACTIVE AS EVER 🩷💚🩷💚🩷💚 YEHEYYYYYY 😭😭😭😭 BLESS THEM SMMM#content : writing#dynamic : romantic#user : lara#fandom : fnf#this is the 30th and last tag i can write in hello
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iamumbra195 · 9 months ago
Text
School Bus Graveyard incorrect quotes because I'm bored
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o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Taylor: Look how creepy it is looking down this hallway.
Ashlyn: I'm gonna get vertigo.
Aiden: I'm a Virgo!
Tyler, deadpan: No, you're a virgin.
...
Aiden: You lying, cheating, piece of shit!
Tyler: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD
Aiden: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING ASHLYN WITH ME
Logan, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.
...
Taylor: Why is Tyler so upset?
Logan: He took one of those “Which Character Are You?” quizzes
Taylor: And...?
Logan: He got Aiden.
...
Ashlyn: What did you do with the phantom's body?
Aiden: What didn’t I do with the body?
Everyone:
Aiden: Okay, that sounded more sexual than I intended. I disposed of the phantom respectfully.
...
Aiden: Here’s a fun Christmas idea. We hang mistletoe, but instead of kissing, you have to FIGHT whoever else is under it.
Logan: Aiden, no.
Ben, with text to speech: Mistlefoe.
Logan: Please stop encouraging him.
...
Taylor: Who thinks I can fit 15 marshmallows in my mouth?
Tyler: You’re a hazard to society
Aiden: And a coward. DO TWENTY.
...
Emma, trying to be nice to Ashlyn's new friends: Would you like to stay for dinner?
Mike, excited for his daughter: WOULD YOU LIKE TO STAY FOREVER?
...
Logan: What's a word thats a mix between 'sad' and 'mad'?
Ben: Disgruntled, miserable, desolated-
Aiden: Smad.
...
Ashlyn: Why are you on the floor?
Aiden: I'm depressed.
Aiden: Also I was stabbed, can you get Ben, please.
...
Taylor: Aiden and I were crossing the street, and this dude drove by and honked at us
Ashlyn, sighing: What did he do?
Taylor: he chased him to the next red light, then reached into his window and...
Aiden: Who wants a steering wheel?
...
Aiden: If I accidentally sat on a voodoo doll of myself, would I be trapped forever in that position, doomed to starve to death?
Logan: How am I supposed to know?
Tyler: You say that as if we don’t use you as a source of knowledge of the occult.
Logan: ...You wouldn't be trapped.
...
Ashlyn: Tyler, keep an eye on Aiden today. He's going to say something to the wrong person and get punched.
Tyler: Sure, I’d love to see him get punched.
Ashlyn: Try again.
Tyler, sighing: I will stop Aiden from getting punched.
...
Aiden, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him
Tyler: You did WHAT–
Ben: William Snakespeare
...
Ashlyn: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life
Taylor: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind?
Ashlyn: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die.
Aiden: edible
...
Taylor, whispering to Aiden, who’s on the phone with Ashlyn: Ask her something!
Aiden: How are you feeling?
Ashlyn: Fine.
Taylor: Something personal!
Aiden: At what age did you start hearing voices?
...
Aiden: If I die, my funeral is going to be the biggest party ever and you’re all invited
Logan: If?
Tyler: Great, the only party I’d actually go to and he might not even die.
...
Logan: We need a distraction.
Ashlyn: Is anyone here good at jumping up and down and making weird noises?
Aiden, whispering: My time has come
...
Tyler: Where are you going?
Taylor: To get ice cream or commit a felony, I’ll decide on the way there
Tyler: I'll come with
...
Mike, buying a whole bag of knives, guns and other weapons like he's going to war on a random Tuesday: I can explain
Jacob (shop owner): Can you?
Mike: If you give me thirty seconds to think of a lie.
...
Taylor: Heads up, if you try to make a candle with food colouring, it will just sink to the bottom of the glass, and when the flame eventually reaches the bottom all the food colouring will catch fire and become one giant tall flame that you cannot possibly blow out and the glass will start to crack and then you'll throw your tea on it in a panic and then the extremely hot food colouring will boil and sizzle horribly and then the glass will shatter.
Tyler, sighing: What did you do?
Taylor, wailing: A MISTAKE
...
Mr. Thomas: What are your goals?
Ashlyn: To pet all the dogs.
Mr. Thomas: No, I meant your goals for this trip.
Ashlyn: To pet all the dogs in Savannah.
...
Logan: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming?
Ashlyn: Does anyone in this godforsaken group ever think before they speak?
...
Taylor: Aiden isn’t answering their phone
Ashlyn: I’ll call
Taylor: Ben and I have both tried six times each, what makes you thi-
Aiden: Hello?
...
Aiden: I was arrested for being too cool.
Tyler: The charges were dropped due to a lack of supporting evidence.
...
Aiden: Jail is no fun. I’ll tell you that much
Taylor: You’ve been to jail?
Aiden: Once. In Monopoly.
...
Mike: You love me, right?
Emma: Normally, I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere and I don’t like it.
...
Aiden: Let’s watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl.
Ashlyn: Okay
Aiden: And make out during the scary parts.
Ashlyn: The-
Ashlyn: The scary parts?
Ashlyn: Of Sharkboy and Lavagirl.
...
Ashlyn: How petty can you get?
Tyler: I once edited a Wikipedia article to win an argument I was wrong about.
Taylor: I KNEW IT-
...
Aiden: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them.
Logan: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.
...
Mike: So what’s for dinner?
Emma, staring at the food she just burnt: Regret.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
That's all for today!
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cryptidghostgirl · 11 months ago
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omg omg omg totally new silly idea- human! alastor x human! reader where they meet at a party and go outside for a walk near the pier and the moon is beautiful and… they pull out weapons on each other (specifically Alastor a knife and reader a gun) and thats when they decide to form a partner in crime partnership
And in other to keep appearances they are forced to “fake date”
Mimzy: youve been spending some time with that new girl havent you, is she your gf or smth?” chuckle
Naize 20 yr old smth Alastor trying to think of a response thats not that:...
Mimzy: OMG IS SHE?
Alastor: sureeeeee
And they aren't actually into each other until a lot later into their partnership when they’re chasing some guy and reader gets to them first and just starts going at it “hey man i think hes had enough” “YOU WANT WHAT HES HAVING???” thpe shit
and Alastor has to catch his breath and he lowkey thinks hes dying because his heart starts beating a lot, And he goes again to mimzy for advice cuz i dont think he has anu friends and shes like “oh sweetie…”
And because its quite impossible to not get attached at one point theyre in another chase and reader starts laughing hysterically like “did you see him trying to run away??? lmao” and he goes “I couldnt take my eyes off you” and then just grabs her face and SMOOCH >:)
I think its a good trope- fake dating to actual dating even if its. about. murderers- :3
A/N YOU GUYS COME UP WITH THE BEST REQUESTS JESUS CHRIST!!! Also I promise I will get to the rest of the requests this weekend, I had two exams today so this is the only thing I am gonna post. Sorry.
Cover Up (Human!Alastor x Human!Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: uh, murder. Mild gore. Violence. Weapons.
Word Count: 4,460 (I went a little overboard with this one)
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
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"I'll walk her home, don't worry Mimzy." Alastor was saying as Y/n pulled her coat over her shoulders.
The noises of the party still raging on filtered into the grand entryway of the house, muffled through the walls. Mimzy shot her two friends a suspicious look.
"It's nothing like that, Mimz." Y/n sighed, straightening the collar of her fur coat, "I just asked cause of all those murders in the news. Kinda freaky, don't you think? I don't really wanna be out alone at night and Al here was kind enough to offer."
Mimzy crossed her arms, eyebrows raised.
"Sure." she teased.
"Mimzy." Alastor sighed in response and she put her hands up in false surrender.
"Sorry! Sorry." she hummed playfully, "I know you two free birds would never."
Alastor rolled his eyes and, turning to Y/n, held out his arm. She took it daintily, a grateful smile on her face. The pair had just met a few hours earlier but had quickly fallen into a casual camaraderie. He lead her from the house, Mimzy calling her goodnights and wishes for their safety after their retreating forms.
It was a mostly quiet walk through the desolate midnight streets of New Orleans. Y/n hummed softly, kicking a can along with the toes of her healed shoes.
"You'll ruin them that way, wont you?" Alastor asked, feigning concern.
Y/n just shrugged.
"They're shoes. Yeah, they're nice but I wont let that stop me from living. Let's stop by the water, it's so pretty tonight."
Alastor turned slightly, looking out at the Mississippi with it's slightly turbid waters reflecting the light of the stars. He tried not to smile, it was like she wanted him to carry out his intended work. She was making it so easy for him.
"Sure."
They turned towards the rail and Y/n let go of his arm, leaning her elbows against it. She let out a sigh of longing as her eyes tracked the ripples in the surface.
Alastor watched her for a moment, the moon illuminating her features. She was a handsome woman, there was no doubt about it. It had been proved to him tenfold by the amount of prospective partners she had turned down dances with at the party in favor of drinking with him at the bar. That was not what Alastor was interested in, however. Once he was sure she was distracted, once he was sure she had no intent to take her eyes from the glowing river, he looked down. Moving his coat slightly to the side, his hand quickly found its way to the hilt of the knife he had stashed in his waistband for just such an occasion.
He pulled it out, the weight familiar, almost comforting in a sense, in his hand. There was a click. He looked up, the blade pointed to its intended target.
Y/n was facing him now, a wry smile on her face. One foot in front of the other, she took a step forward. The muzzle of the gun, the cocking of which had been the source of the noise which had drawn his attention, just a few centimeters from his chest. The tip of his knife hovered indefinitely by the open center of her coat. He chuckled in amusement, eyebrows raised.
"I thought there were a few more bodies in the news than there should have been. A gun? Really?"
Y/n shrugged.
"I'm little. I don't have the privilege of being able to overpower my victims like you."
Alastor hummed softly. A slight breeze picked up, playing with the edges of their hair.
"What a shame."
Y/n laughed lightly.
"I don't think so. It works well enough."
"Those machines are inelegant, they are detached."
"And you prefer a sense of intimacy to be involved in all your escapades?"
Alastor removed the knife, holding it up to his eyes. He turned the blade over in his hand, examining it closely. Following suit, Y/n let her hand fall to her side, the gun still cocked should an occasion arise to use it.
"I have an idea." he suddenly announced.
"Oh?" Y/n asked.
She took a step back, returning to the water's edge. Alastor followed, leaning over the railing beside her. They watched one another closely, weapons still clutched loosely in their hands.
"Yep."
"You gonna tell me what it is or am I gonna have to guess?" Y/n teased after a moment, breaking the oddly comfortable silence that had fallen after Alastor's last words.
"There have been a few times, of late, where I've come a bit... uncomfortably close to being seen."
"Getting lazy." Y/n hummed, "Or maybe just cocky."
"It seems like you could use a hand, someone with brute strength in case anything goes wrong."
She scoffed, smiling just the slightest bit.
"Are you proposing we work together?"
"You're the one who said it, not me."
Y/n shook her head slightly, amused.
"How would I know you wouldn't just turn on me? End up killing me or decide not to step in if I needed help?"
"And how would I know that you wouldn't rat me out? Alert someone to where I was and what I was doing rather than telling me someone was coming? It's called trust, Y/n."
Y/n thought it over, fiddling with the gun in her grip as she did so. Alastor watched, seeing the gears turning in her mind through the light of her eyes.
"Fine." she said at last, un-cocking the gun and holding a hand out to him, "You've got yourself a deal."
Alastor smiled, slipping the knife back into his belt before grasping her hand in his. It was chilled by the air of the January night enveloping them.
"Deal."
Y/n quickly learned Alastor's preferred demographic. He had a penchant for angry men, drunks. Y/n had been a one off, a spur of the moment opportunity he had thought to take hold of. Alastor had not been like that for her. Y/n's preferred victims were also men. Anyone that showed any pressing interest in her, anyone who tried to take her home for the night, always ended up six feet under. For both, murder was a way of processing their personal experiences and traumas.
As a result of their deal, Y/n and Alastor began to spend more time together. They had to learn one another's intricacies, their ways of thinking, their nature of being. It was a necessity if anything was actually going to work. They both had rather busy work schedules, Alastor as a radio broadcaster with his very own show and Y/n as a seamstress at a local dress shop. Because of this, more often than not, the only time they had to get to know one another was through shared meals. Both of them had to eat, needed a lunch break or dinner. It was just what worked. Because of their slightly shared demographic of victim, they ended up in bars together quite frequently as well.
It was in one of these meet ups that they ran into their first difficulty. Y/n was sitting across a table from him outside a cafe, lazily sipping on a coffee as she perused the missing persons list in a newspaper. The newspaper was old, they were exchanging information about who was responsible for what. Working together didn't just mean knowing one another as they were now, but their histories as well.
They should have known not to sit in such a public place. Both had many connections in the city due to their jobs, though few friends. It just so happened on that day that the one true friend they did have in common was walking down the very street they sat on.
"Alastor?" Mimzy exclaimed, catching sight of his familiar face and moving towards their table.
Y/n folded the newspaper, placing it on the table as she turned towards the sound. Mimzy came to a stop, her brow furrowing in mild confusion as she saw her friend was not in fact alone.
"And Y/n, fancy meeting you two here."
"Pull up a chair, Mimz." Y/n smiled and Mimzy obeyed.
Swinging a spare chair from a nearby table, she quickly joined them.
"I haven't seen you two since the party! How have you been."
"Fine, fine." Alastor hummed and Y/n nodded her assent.
"And whats this with you two getting coffee?" Mimzy asked, a teasing smile slipping onto her face as Alastor took a sip of his own drink, "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"
"No, not at all Mimz." Y/n shook her head, a slight smile on her face, "It's always a pleasure to see you."
"You sure this isn't a date or something? I mean, with the way you two left and everything... having coffee alone..."
Alastor nearly choked on his drink. Y/n and Mimzy turned to him as he put a hand to his chest, clearing his throat.
"Excuse me." he said and Mimzy's grin widened.
"Oh this is totally a date."
"No!" Alastor exclaimed, exchanging a fervent glance with Y/n across the table.
She raised her eyebrows, pursing her lips. Without words, she told him to handle it. Alastor sighed.
"Are you sure?" Mimzy asked, a suggestive tone to her voice.
"I... uh..." Alastor stuttered, his brain working in overdrive to think of anything else. It came up empty, "Fine. Yes. We're... we're on a date."
"You caught us." Y/n chimed in and Mimzy turned to her.
"Oh my stars! You two.... I shoulda guessed you'd get on like a house on fire. Shame I can't invite you to any more of my singles parties though Y/n, you are a riot."
Singles parties. A hunting ground. Y/n smiled.
"No, no, Mimz. We're not exclusive or anything."
Mimzy's eyes widened slightly at the revelation as Alastor shot Y/n a look across the table. Dating was going to be hard for them to sell but swingers too? What was she thinking.
"Really? How exotic." Mimzy hummed in thought.
"We're all going to hell anyways so, why not." Y/n shrugged.
"Oh you." Mimzy laughed, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder as she got to her feet, "Well, I won't keep you love birds any longer. I'll see you next week for the next party then?"
"We'll see." Alastor hummed placidly.
Once Mimzy had gone, he rounded on Y/n.
"Swingers?" he asked, eyebrows raised, "Really?"
"Hey, you're the one who started the whole 'we're dating' thing." Y/n sighed, picking the newspaper back up and resuming the task at hand, "I just made it easier for us."
"It will utterly destroy my reputation if this gets out you know."
Y/n shot him a look over the top of the paper.
"Al, you got a lot more to worry about than pretending to be a swinger in terms of your reputation. Now, Marcus Alcost? Six four, buff, scar on his left forearm? Brown hair?"
"Blue eyes?"
"Umm... yeah."
"Yep, that was me."
"Nice. Musta been a tough one to take down."
Alastor would track men, following them out as they left the establishments in the small hours of the morning with the intent of returning to their families. He would stalk them, corner them, lead them in. Y/n would stand watch, alerting him at the first sign of trouble.
The moment she heard footsteps, chatter, Y/n would duck in. Grabbing Alastor by the arm, she would whisk him off in some random direction, having consistently used the time she was on lookout to scout for escape routes.
They had had a few close calls, one or two times he had had to press her up against a wall and pretend to kiss her to avoid prying eyes. They always had a good laugh after something like that. Mostly, things worked out well. They each had survived on their own for years at this point. They knew what they were doing, adding another person into the mix just made it a tad easier.
Y/n, on the other hand, didn't need to track her victims down, they did that work for her. She would dress up all pretty and the moment someone asked to take her home or something of the like, would agree. Then she'd pull them into some ally or another under the guise of not wanting to wait a second longer and attack. Alastor would stand behind her, arms crossed menacingly as she carried out her work. He threatened so she could perform and she never had any trouble thanks to him.
That was, until one night about a year into their little partnership. As the time had passed, their relationship had grown. They still held the ruse of dating up before anyone who asked why it was they each spent so much time with the other but, a real friendship had begun to blossom between them as well. As it turns out, they had a lot more in common than just a tendency to commit brutal murders. Y/n knew Alastor well by now, better than anyone else most likely, and he knew her as well. That was how he could tell something was wrong.
Y/n had given Alastor the usual signal from across the bar and he had settled his tab. As he followed the pair, Y/n and the tall man whose hand she held, Alastor had noticed something was off. Normally by this point Y/n was stumbling around, pretending to be drunk and ditzy. She was doing this very thing now but in a more halted and jagged way. The man she was with seemed more believably drunk than she was, swaying this way and that. Her movements were uncharacteristically harsh as she pulled the man into the ally about a block ahead of him.
Alastor picked up the pace, breaking into a light jog. He reached the ally and turned down it, expecting to see Y/n flirting with the man or with her gun out already. Instead, he was met with something entirely different.
At the back of the ally lay the huddled mass of the man. On top of him was Y/n. The thuds of her knuckles against his face was the only sound breaking the silence of the night. She hit him, again and again. Alastor stood there, stunned.
"Dear, whatever is the matter?" he asked at last, trying to wrap his head around the situation.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
"Y/n."
Thud. Thud. Thud.
He could see the splatters of blood now, on the ground around them and the wall behind. The thuds included the occasional squelch, the crack of a bone.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
"You'll ruin your hands for work tomorrow if you keep at this."
Still, she ignored him. There was a sickening crunch. Sighing, he approached.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
He could see it now, the man's mutilated face. Part of his skull looked like it had caved in. He had stopped moving long ago.
"Y/n, dear," Alastor tentatively reached out a hand towards her shoulder as he spoke, "don't you think he has had enough?"
Y/n whipped around to him, her eyes wild and her bloody raw knuckles raised. He froze, his hand hovering above her shoulder. There was blood everywhere. It soaked the sleeves of her collard shirt, it dripped from her fingers, it decorated her face and her bared teeth.
"What, you fucking want some too?"
Alastor's breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded against his ribcage, begging for escape. It wasn't fear, it couldn't be. He could take this girl down in ten seconds flat, blood hungry as she was.
Y/n's eyes, sharp with violence, softened slightly as she saw his reaction. She let her hands fall, resting them on the man's chest.
"He tried to drug me." she revealed, turning her eyes back to her mess, her masterpiece.
"He what?"
"Yeah." she sighed, using the back of her hand to push her hair from her eyes, leaving a residue of blood in the wake of the movement, "I caught him, switched the drinks."
Alastor shifted his gaze to the man before falling on Y/n once again. Her face was blank now, all the rage gone.
"He tried to drug me." she said again, her voice hollow.
At last, his hand found its home on her shoulder and she turned to face him once again. Alastor extended his free hand to Y/n. She examined it for a moment before daintily placing one of her own in his and allowing him to help her to her feet. Both her hands now rested in his as they looked back at the remains of the man.
"Well, he's definitely dead."
Alastor let go of Y/n's hands. Now free, he used one of them to turn her face to his. Blood spattered, wide eyed, lips slightly parted -- his heart fought for freedom from his chest once again.
"He deserved it."
Alastor let go of Y/n's chin and used the cuff of his jacket to wipe some of the blood from her face.
"Can you walk me home?"
Normally if she had asked something like that, Alastor would have teased her to no end. Why be scared of the monsters in the dark when she herself was one of them? But her voice had been small, timid. She had avoided his eyes and his fingers tingled at the prospect of her viewing him as protector.
"Of course, my dear."
They did not have another planned meeting until two weeks from that day. Y/n had a big project at work and wouldn't have any spare time because of it. Alastor, normally restless at the idea of having to wait so long to satisfy his bloodlust either by killing or seeing the show of death, was grateful for the respite. He was confused, overwhelmed even, because his strange reactions, the change in his patterns of thought towards the girl, hadn't ended at Y/n's front door.
No, she was haunting him. Like a vengeful ghost, he saw her in his mind. She took up every waking moment, he didn't know what to do. Alastor waited a day and still, it persisted. The skip of his heart, the odd slightly sick feeling in his stomach at the thought of their reunion. He waited three days and it didn't stop. By the time the end of the week rolled around and Alastor still found himself smiling at the prospect of only having to wait another week not to kill but to see Y/n again, he did the unthinkable. It was the only option he could come up with. Besides Y/n, she was the only other person in the world he even half trusted. Alastor called Mimzy.
"Alastor, darling!" she excitedly exclaimed into the phone, "What a surprise! What can I do for you?"
"Yeah, hey Mimzy. Um..." he struggled to find the words, fiddling with the phone cord as he walked to the window, looking down at the street below, "I just... I need your advice about something."
"What is it, hun?" she immediately replied, "Seems its got you in a tizzy, not a lot can do that."
"I... It's about Y/n."
"Uh-oh, trouble in paradise?"
"No. Maybe?" he turned from the window, collapsing in his desk chair, "I don't know."
"Spill."
"Well, we... I just.... Mimz, I can't stop thinking about her."
"Well I would hope not, you've been together for almost a year now."
"Yeah well, about that. It may have been a... stretching of the truth? Shall we say?"
"Al." Mimzy warned after a moment's silence, "If you are playing with this gi-"
"No!" he exclaimed, cutting her off and quickly crafting an excuse, "No. It was just to get our parents off our backs. We had a deal. They were both pestering us about when we were gonna get married, you know how it is."
"I thought your dad was dead?"
"My ma though, she really wants to see me settled down."
"I guess that explains the swingers thing." Mimzy sighed, "It didn't really seem in character for either of you. So, whats the matter?"
"I told you, I can't stop thinking about her. It's like... it's like... look, we're not dating, but we're friends, you know? And we were out at a bar together a few nights ago and she just... she did something and when I looked at her, it was like I died."
"That little minx." Mimzy laughed in glee, "What the heck did she do?"
"Just something, okay?"
"I have got to quiz her about this."
"No! Please, no. She'd... probably be embarrassed."
"Mmm... okay...." came Mimzy's doubtful reply, "So what was it you needed help with?"
"Well, that. It was like the breath had left my body entirely. I felt... sick, my chest hurt. It was so strange. I thought it would go away once I got some sleep but it didn't. Every time I think about her, it feels like there is a vice around my heart and I can't stop thinking about her."
"Al, seriously? This is what you're asking me about?"
"Yeah?" he uncertainly replied after a moment.
"What are you, twelve?"
"Mimzy, are you going to help or not?"
She sighed.
"Alastor, you have a crush on her."
A beat.
"I do not."
"Yes, you do. Maybe even more."
"I..." his brow furrowed, his breath left his body.
This was bad. This could be dangerous, detrimental even.
"Are you sure?"
"Butterflies in your stomach? Pains in your chest? Can't get her out of your mind? You're even breathless for christ's sake Al. It's textbook first pangs of love."
"Fuck."
Mimzy laughed.
"You're already pretend dating, what harm would asking her to do the real thing with you do? My bet is, she's probably been feeling the same thing about you. That tends to happen in cases like yours, I've seen it before. The whole 'fake love turns real' trope. It's overdone if you ask me."
"Mimzy, this isn't one of your trashy romance novels. This is my life."
"So live it radio man! Go get that girl."
Alastor was nervous, trembling even as he sat at the bar. His glass of whiskey had gone warm on the table as he watched Y/n dancing and having fun in the crowd. This was how it usually went when it was his turn to hunt, she'd have fun and he'd find a target. Once the target left, he'd grab her and they'd move out.
Tonight he was distracted and it showed. The man had nearly given them the slip. With Alastor's knife still sticking out of his shoulder, he had ducked away and started running. Of course that meant Alastor and Y/n had to give chase. They ran after him through the streets of New Orleans as he screamed bloody murder and Y/n's heels clicked definitively on the ground. He was thankful that the hour was late and no one was out and about, thankful the man was so drunk his words came out closer to garbled singing than pleas for help, thankful he was slowed by his consumption.
When they at last caught up with him, Alastor grabbed his second knife from his belt and, taking the man's hurt shoulder in his free hand, buried it deep in the man's back. He fell to the floor, sputtering, coughing up blood. In a few moments he was still. Alastor turned to Y/n, panting.
Her pretty eyes traced a path between murderer and victim a handful of times before a smile broke out onto her face. Before he could really register what was happening, she was doubled over in laughter, clutching her stomach.
Alastor watched Y/n, eyebrows raised as they both caught their breath. After about a minute, she straightened up and turned to him, wiping a tear from her eye.
"What?" Alastor asked with a wry smile, "What is so funny about a dead man."
"He..." she broke out into laughter again, "He... the way he ran! And we almost lost him?! Oh my god, Al, that coulda been so bad."
"The way... he ran?"
"He... didn't you see it? Oh my god, it was so funny. Like he was running in a three legged race with an invisible partner." she wheezed.
Alastor felt the heat pooling in his cheeks. Mimzy was right, it was time for him to live his life. A normal existence could coexist with his hobby, Y/n had already proved that to him.
"Didn't you see?" she asked again.
"No." he shook his head, "I was... I was watching you."
"You were... Al, theres no way you were." Y/n scoffed, "No way. If you were watching me, he would have gotten away. If you were watching me, it would meant that you were unconcerned by your oh-so-precious reputation being ruined. If you were watching me, it would mean..."
She trailed off as he took a step closer to her, his gaze flicking between her eyes and her lips. Y/n's cheeks flushed pink.
"Alastor."
Her voice was a dying prayer. Reaching a trembling hand up, he laid it on the back of her head, his fingers tangling with her hair as she looked up at him with wide eyes. Alastor closed the gap.
He had been so scared. Scared she would push him away, that she wouldn't kiss back. Even a little bit scared he'd just become the next name on her list of degenerate men she'd killed.
There was a moment, a split second, where his fears were realized. Then, she washed them all away. Hands buried in the lapel of his jacket, she pulled him closer, Y/n leaned in.
They broke apart after a moment, their cheeks flushed and utterly breathless.
"I-"
"Would you like to go on a date with me, Y/n?"
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Are you going to try to kill me again?"
"Oh please, I thought we'd moved past that darling."
Y/n smiled, still holding him close. Alastor let his hands fall onto her waist as they swayed slightly under the light of the moon.
"Yes Alastor. I will let you take me on a date."
"We will not be swingers."
Y/n laughed.
"Just had to make that clear."
"No, Alastor. If I am going to get you, I want you all to myself. Now, what are we going to do about that body?"
----
Next Part -> Cover Up pt. 2
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