#i need to just COVER him with love and affection

[jjscrybaby]

could you do kook!reader spoiling jj? like, they're surprisingly really good friends and she's always getting stuff that she thinks he might need or want, like he comes over and she's doing skin care and she'll do his, or bringing him lunch, even buying him rings or surf supplies and everytime he gets all choked up and red because she's so sweet to him, just wanting to make him happy, and all his friends tease him for it calling her his sugar mommy and everything (all cutesy, sfw ^^)

jj maybank x sweetheart!reader | fluff | (kook!reader, both are massive simps honestly, reader spending too much money on jj, lotta fluff!)

finally getting to my requests! hope you enjoy baby🩷 after writing this i’ve realised i have an obsession with jj and a sweetheart kook so if anyone has any requests for them i’m allll ears!!

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

One thing about JJ was that he wasn’t used to being spoiled. That made sense, with the way he’d grown up and the people he was friends with. The Pogues all adored each other, but they showed their love with banter and loyalty not with gifts and affection. That was probably the reason he turned into a teenage girl every time you were around, because you always had something for him.

It was a known fact that you had a crush on him, ever since Sarah had started dating John B and dragged you along with her you’d thought JJ was cute. At first, he wasn’t a huge fan of you, you were a Kook and in his eyes that made you the enemy. It only took a few days for that novelty to wear off, once he realised there wasn’t a cruel bone in your body.

It was after a couple months of friendship that the never-ending string of affection began. Showing up to his work with his favourite sandwich in a paper bag — a heart drawn on like you were his mother sending him to kindergarten — buying him a new board after he was complaining about how old his was getting, realising there was hardly any body wash left in the bathroom so ordering three bottles for next day delivery. He’d blush and stammer over his words every single time, you just had that effect on him and he couldn’t work out why.

“There she is, JJ’s sugar mama,” John B teased as you came skipping into the Chateau with a shopping bag in hand; nothing out of the ordinary.

“Shut up,” JJ grumbled, shooting him a look before turning to you. “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Hi, guys,” you beamed, sitting down on the couch beside the blonde. Your knee was bouncing excitedly, just waiting for one of them to ask you what you’d brought.

“What’s in the bag?” John B finally asked, a smirk on his face.

You instantly opened it up, grabbing a shirt from the top to throw his way. You didn’t want him to feel left out, although Sarah spent enough money on him that you didn’t feel quite so guilty for showing up with presents for JJ and nothing for John B.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” John B laughed, catching it with ease. He held it up, grinning at the shirt. You imagined he was similar to JJ in the sense that he didn’t get a lot growing up, although you always smiled in the same way whenever you bought yourself a cute outfit.

“It’s the same colour as your eyes!” You exclaimed, a cheesy smile on your face. You liked treating your friends, it was probably the thing that brought you the most happiness.

“Well, I appreciate it, thanks kid,” John B smiled, standing up to give you a pat on the shoulder. “I’m guessing everything else in there is for Mr Maybank here.”

JJ’s cheeks instantly lit up, looking away to try and cover it before his friend could make fun of him. John B stifled a laugh as you nodded sheepishly. You knew that they’d all worked out how you felt about JJ, you’d always drunkenly told John B and Sarah that you wanted to have his babies so that probably gave it away.

“I’m gonna go try this on,” John B decided, ruffling your hair before disappearing inside the Chateau. JJ took a moment to thank God for that, he hated reacting like an idiot in front of the others.

“You know, us inviting you ‘round doesn’t mean you have to bring presents,” JJ stated, scratching his chin awkwardly.

“I know,” you shrugged. “But I was at the mall, and there was so much cute stuff! I got this skirt, too.” You tugged on the end of your baby pink skirt and he let out a soft laugh.

“Go on then, show me what you got,” he sighed, watching as you squealed and started to empty the shopping bag.

There were at least six new shirts in there, a pair of cargo shorts because he’d ripped his at a kegger, some new rings just because and a sweatshirt he himself had been saving up for. He had the same reaction as always, a lump in his throat as he wondered what he’d done in his past life to deserve such kindness and a blush coating his cheeks as you rambled on about how good you thought he’d look in the shirts.

“Do you like them?” You asked softly, after he’d been silent for longer than usual. Normally, he’d stutter out a thank you, kiss your temple and flip off the Pogues as they laughed at him.

“I— yeah, of course I do, but I don’t know if I want you to keep buyin’ me stuff,” JJ said, running a hand over his face.

He could see the way your smile dropped, a look of confusion and hurt in your eyes. “Why?” You asked quietly.

“Because, babe, I— I can’t return the favour, y’know? I don’t have enough money to go ‘round buying you a bunch of stuff, as much as I’d love to. Makes me feel guilty,” he explained, placing his hand on your arm to show he wasn’t mad.

The hurt faded from your face and instead you gave him a soft smile, one reserved for him. “I don’t want you to buy me stuff, I don’t care about that. I like getting you stuff. Besides, it’s not like you don’t do anything for me.”

“What do I do for you?” He questioned, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to think.

“Lots of stuff! You make my coffees when I stay over, and you give me your extra fries. You scare away the boys at parties and you always say I look pretty,” you listed, this time a blush coated your cheeks.

He’d never really thought about it like that, like he was actually doing something for you. In his mind, he knew you liked a coffee so he’d make you one before waking you. He knew the Wreck’s fries were your favourite, that was a given from the way you’d scoff them down, so when you ran out he didn’t mind sharing. The scaring away boys was more for him, he didn’t want any of them swooping you off your feet whilst he was trying to work out how to do that himself. And calling you pretty? Well, you were.

JJ didn’t say anything, an idea came to mind. He reached behind him, undoing the shark tooth necklace he’d been wearing ever since he could remember. You watched him in confusion as he moved your hair out of the way and did it up, grinning as it rested just above your cleavage.

“I know it ain’t designer or anything, and it probably doesn’t got with any of your outfits, but it’s my favourite—” he cut himself off, watching as tears ran down your cheeks. You threw your arms around him and he was quick to wrap his around your waist, letting out a chuckle. “It was, like, a few dollars. No need for the tears, baby.”

“I love it,” you sniffled into his shoulder.

He felt himself pressing a kiss to your cheek, hand stroking over your back. Maybe one day that kiss would be on your lips, and instead of a stupid necklace he’d be buying you a damn ring. Not today though, today he was content with just knowing you’d be wearing a piece of him.

[insidekatmind]

Valentine’s Day -Levi Colwill

Valentine’s Day had finally arrived, along with the romantic weekend Levi had planned for the two of you. He hadn’t told you much—just that it would be special and that you needed to trust him. So, with your heart pounding in excitement, you let him drive you to your secret destination.

After a couple of hours on the road, filled with lighthearted conversation and laughter, your eyes widened in surprise when you saw the cabin where you’d be spending the weekend. It was nestled among snow-covered trees, with large windows that let in a warm, golden glow. It looked like something out of a fairytale.

Levi glanced at you with a satisfied smile. “Well? Do you like it,baby?”

“Do I like it? love, it’s beautiful,” you exclaimed, throwing yourself into his arms. He chuckled, holding you close before stealing a sweet, slow kiss, as if he wanted to engrave this moment in his memory.

As you stepped inside, the scent of wood and vanilla candles filled the air. A fireplace crackled in the corner, the couch was draped in soft blankets, and a bottle of red wine was already waiting on the table, ready to be opened.

“You really thought of everything, huh?” you said, turning to him with an affectionate smile.

“Only the best for you,” he replied, gently caressing your cheek. “Now, how about we start this weekend the right way?”

And so, between toasts and laughter, the evening slipped away with a warmth that filled your heart. You cooked together, danced in the kitchen to soft music playing in the background, and lost yourselves in endless kisses by the fire.

When night fell, you curled up together under a cozy blanket, the dim lights casting a soft glow around you as the wind howled gently outside the window. Levi pulled you closer, his breath warm against your neck.

“I don’t want this weekend to end,” he murmured, his voice full of sincerity that made your heart clench.

You intertwined your fingers with his, pressing a soft kiss to his hand. “Then let’s make every moment count.”

And in that precise instant, as he gazed at you with pure love in his eyes, you knew there was no other place in the world you’d rather be.

You smile softly and kiss him. He smiles softly, his heart swelling with affection as he returns the kiss. His hand gently finds its way to your cheek, his thumb tracing light circles over your skin. "I love you," he murmured, his voice soft and sincere. "More than words can express."

You cling to him. “I love you so much too,” you whisper softly. Levi pulled you closer, his hand gently exploring your back, tracing the curve of your spine.

"You look amazing tonight," he whispered, his gaze fixed on you with raw admiration. "Like a vision, straight from my wildest dreams." You shiver from his touch, feeling the intensity of his gaze on you. His words sent a pleasant heat through your body, a mix of emotions welling up within you.

"You don’t have to flatter me," you say, a soft smile playing on your lips. "I’m already yours." He chuckled softly at your response, the sound a mixture of affection and desire. "I know you are, and that’s precisely why I want to shower you in compliments."

Levi pulled you even closer, his body pressed against yours in a way that made your heart quicken. His hand slid up to your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your bottom lip, the touch sending electricity through your veins.

"You’re beautiful," he murmured, his gaze fixed on your face with an intensity that made your breath catch. "And you’re mine."

You feel your cheeks flush, his words sending a thrill down your spine. You can’t help but smile, feeling his possessive touch and the intensity of his gaze.

"I’m all yours," you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Completely and utterly yours."

[slytherinshua]

ᝰ　LOVE THINGS　( 엔시티 위시 )

      summary . . . little things they do in a relationship !

genre fluff , established relationship , headcanons , nct wish x reader   cw kissing , teasing , some food mention , not proofread    wc 887   request no   note ugh i'm going crazy i love wishies so bad. these were just little thoughts that came to me while i was watching some behind videos and lord i love these boys so much :( put on tears are falling and trust my tears WILL start to fall   net @kstrucknet @chrimatanet

OH SION ﾐ 오시온

needs hugs to recharge throughout the day. same with kisses. always begging you for affection even if you give him a lot, and will cling to you as well. he can just never get enough and will come up with excuses just to get an extra kiss out of you.

gets excited even for the little things like a surprise day off or an extra hour to spend with you. never lets you get bored and always has ideas of what to do together to make it a date. any time spent with your boyfriend is time well spent. 

definitely has a picture of you as his phone background. on long work days or overseas schedules he misses you too much and likes to still see your face when video calling isn’t an option. likes the idea of matching couple rings or a necklace to have when you’re apart and gets a pair for you at some point.

MAEDA RIKU ﾐ 前田 陸

wears tank tops or t-shirts that look really good on him and then pretends he doesn’t know why you’re staring at him or all over him. he can’t feign ignorance for too long, though, because he always ends up giggling at how cute you are. 

shares his food with you and always makes sure you eat well. would rather order something you like and share it than order something he’s personally craving, especially if you are slightly pickier with your food. he loves enjoying food together and seeing you satisfied. 

has to hold your hand if you’re ever walking somewhere. more of a comfort than function. he knows he won’t lose you, but he likes the feeling of having your hand in his. will also reach out to hold your hand if you’re sitting next to each other. he likes the feeling of your soft skin.

TOKUNO YUSHI ﾐ 得能勇志

eye contact from across the room leads to mini staring contests that end in giggles and laughter. he’ll stare at you like a little cat until he gets your attention just to smile or wink to see you blush or roll your eyes. 

appears out of nowhere sneaking behind you for hugs or planting kisses on your cheek or neck. you often hear him before you see him if he whispers his favourite nickname for you or a simple hey before his arms are wrapping around you.

lies on top of you whenever you’re sitting on the couch. loves when you play with his hair or kiss his forehead. but will also tease you by blocking any attempts to kiss his lips. until you push him onto the floor and then he’s coming back to you begging for a real kiss. 

KIM DAEYOUNG ﾐ 김대영

always texts you throughout the day, sending memes or little updates. especially during practice when he’s surrounded by the other members’ antics. he sits on the side of the studio and finds his own peaceful quiet by messaging you. 

loves taking couple photos and practically has to take a new one each day. whether an ootd photo in the mirror or a cute pose where you’re kissing his cheek, he loves his little collection of them to remember each day with you. prints them out as polaroids and puts his favourite one in his phone case.

will sing any song you like and sends you little covers through voice messages throughout the day. he’ll include raw takes too when he messes up the lyrics or forgets the melody and you might just love when his giggles interrupt the cover even more than a perfect take.

HIROSE RYO ﾐ 廣瀬遼

shares all his clothes with you and even accessories too. his hoodies are practically your sweaters, and his necklaces end up on you more often than he wears them. he thinks it’s super cute, but you do have to compete with sakuya sometimes for dibs on ryo’s sweaters.

teases you with his kisses by pulling away too fast or kissing just beside your lips. only does it to get a reaction out of you and will of course give you a proper kiss eventually, but he lives for your grumpy face. 

is so patient with you and puts up with your cuteness aggression for him. perhaps he understands it because he feels the same urge to squish sakuya’s cheeks (and yours, too). doesn’t mind if his face is showered in kisses and he’s trapped in a tight hug for minutes. let’s you squeeze him like he’s your personal teddy bear. 

FUJINAGA SAKUYA ﾐ 藤永咲哉

the king of matching everything with you: shirts, nails, shoes, even hair ties. he always lets you play with his hair or put it up before he has dance practice. and if his nails aren’t matching with yours, he’s doing something wrong. 

he’s your best friend truly before being your boyfriend, and all the inside jokes you made as friends still make you giggle when they’re brought up. sakuya loves to recreate them whenever he can to make you giggle uncontrollably.

is still super shy with you at times, even though you’ve been dating for a while. if you kiss him by surprise his cheeks will tint pink and he might even stutter over his words. he’s used to being teased by the members for being the youngest and lovesick, and he may never grow out of his shyness towards you.

nct wish taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @lexeees,, @nyukyusnz,, @planetkiimchi,, @haecien,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @hursheys,, @mjupis,, @lilly-cherry7,, @kpopandbookschild,, @taroddori,, @lexeees,, @voikiraz,, @xikskrrrs,, @cupidslovearrows,, @yvshi,, @nicholasluvbot

[dualityvn]

After your answer to my ask about the boys meeting MC by pretending to be their boyfriend, I couldn't get the idea out of my head. So even though it's scary, I wanted to share with you my first ever fanfic. I hope I did Keith justice in it. I'll send the Tenebris one in a separate ask so it doesn't get too long.

x x x

“Shit shit shit shit shit! Why me?!” you mutter, sneaking a glance into the reflection of a shop window. It’d been a couple blocks since you left the cafe where you’d been trying to enjoy your afternoon off. Some rando had approached you, ignored all signs that you wanted to be left alone, and asked for your number. You’d turned him down. Politely even! He’d insisted. You’d turned him down again. He left and you’d assumed that was that. Now he’s following you. Not wanting him to find where you live, you try to lose him.

That’s when you spot a tall blonde man exiting a flower shop just up ahead. “See you tomorrow, Melissa!” he calls in a friendly voice. A desperate idea forms in your mind and you break into a jog hoping this will work.

“Surprise!” The man startles as you wrap your arms around him. He turns to face you with a look of bewilderment on his handsome face. “Oh shit, he’s cute.” you think belatedly.

“Wha-” he starts to say as you stretch up to frantically whisper in his ear.

“Please play along! I’m being followed,” You subtly tilt your head and that’s when he notices the man behind you. The florist’s gorgeous blue eyes dart back to you and he gives the smallest nod before gently wrapping his arms around you. You force yourself not to collapse from relief into his warmth.

“Well now, what brings you here, my dear?” he says with a smile you definitely wouldn’t mind seeing again in better circumstances. The affection in his voice is impressive, considering he had zero time to prepare.

“Thank fuck,” you think breaking into the most radiant smile you can manage. “I thought I’d come pick you up from work, love! You’re done for today, right?”

He flushes when you call him love, but replies smoothly enough. “I just finished actually. Why don’t we go on that date I promised you the other day?” You notice him shoot a glare over your shoulder, but you don’t dare turn around.

“You read my mind!” You reach up to gently fluff his hair before sliding down to cup his face. His eyes snap back to yours and you hear his breath hitch a little. Mentally apologizing, you softly stroke his cheek with your thumb as you give him your most convincing lovestruck look. The poor man’s clearly blushing now, but you need to make sure the creep behind you gets the message loud and clear. 

Angling your bodies carefully, you stretch up on tiptoe and plant a kiss on what you hope appears to be the (understandably surprised) florist’s lips. In reality you move your thumb to cover his mouth at the last moment. To his credit, your accomplice cups the back of your head with one hand while the other wraps around your waist, really selling the moment. You hear a scoff behind you and the sound of footsteps retreating. You linger in place a few moments more just to be sure.

“Is he gone?” you breathe mere centimeters from his face. 

Your savior’s eyes flick away from your face and back before he clears his throat to mutter a “Y-yes.” You step back, your breath leaving you in a whoosh. If you didn’t know better you’d say he released you reluctantly, but that’s probably wishful thinking on your part.

“Oh my god! Thank you so much, um…,” you pause realizing you don’t even know your rescuer’s name.

“Keith,” he supplies warmly, cheeks still tinged pink.

“Right. Keith, I am SO sorry, but thank you! I don’t know what I would’ve done if I hadn’t spotted you,” you tell him earnestly.

“It’s alright. I’m glad I could help,” he reassures you. Now that you’ve had a moment to calm down you realize just how up close and personal you got with a total stranger. You feel yourself flushing, and turn away shyly. You hear him give a gentle chuckle.

“Will you be alright on your own? I can walk with you for a bit if you’d like,” Keith asks. You look up and take in his kind gaze, still concerned, and find yourself nodding, “If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like that.” He assures you it’s not and the two of you set off. Keith is a perfect gentleman as he escorts you part of the way home. You try to ask for his number so you can ask him on a date buy him a coffee as a thank you, but he turns you down. “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he says, a touch of sadness in his voice. You’re disappointed, but accept it. “Then I’ll come buy a houseplant from your shop!” you offer, “You really were my hero back there.” Keith seems a little flustered by your praise, but brightens when he realizes you like plants. As you take your leave you turn back to look at him once more. For a moment, you feel like there’s something off about his eyes as he watches you go. You give yourself a mental shake, chalk it up to the afternoon’s events, and give him one final wave before turning towards home. You definitely don’t have anything to worry about anymore, right?

Just like the Tenebris one, I really enjoyed reading this!

[exhaustedpirate]

warm, clingy bodies

day 10 of @bucktommyfluffebruary (better late than never, right?) thought about making this smutty, ended up going the real fluffy route, as everything with bucktommy, i don't plan anythin, i just let them take over my life, my brain, my heart!

rated T | 1064 words also on AO3

Evan was clingy.

There was something about physical affection that seemed to appeal to the younger man. Tommy often found himself holding Evan’s hand at any given time, or with arms wrapped around his waist, or with the younger firefighter perched on his lap. He had fallen asleep many times with Evan’s fingers running through his hair.

Well, Evan was very clingy.

There wasn’t a moment where his boyfriend wouldn’t have his hands on him. It was probably unconscious, just a need to touch, to connect, to make sure Tommy was still there. He wasn’t sure. 

Tommy’s last relationship wasn’t like this. It was colder, distant. Evan was the sun, warm, so warm. He was becoming obsessed with his boyfriend’s need to touch, to hold.

The boxes of the pizza they had for dinner are scattered along the coffee table, their empty beers carefully placed next to them. A movie about a man and a woman falling in love under strange circumstances is on TV. 

He doesn’t really know the title anymore, hasn’t retained any information regarding plot, character names or even if it’s set in America. He’s distracted by other things.

Evan’s leg is draped over Tommy’s and his arms are wrapped around his torso. His head is a weight on his shoulder and his breathing warms up his t-shirt covered chest. Tommy’s hand runs slowly up and down Evan’s back while the other strokes his forearm. There’s a blanket over their legs and it’s all so warm, so intimate.

He didn’t think he would ever get this.

He never wants to let it go.

Evan’s breathing is starting to slow and Tommy smiles. The music is swelling on the TV and he’s sure the main couple is going to kiss - formulaic but not a criticism.

“Evan?”

He feels the answering hum vibrating along his side and tightens his hold on the younger man.

“Do you want to go to sleep?”

There is a minute shake of his head and Evan’s hand clings to his t-shirt, in the middle of his chest, while he hooks his fingers in his beltloop with the other. “I’m good,” He answers and hums appreciatively at the kiss Tommy lays on the top of his head. “I wanna see those crazy kids have their happily ever after.”

Tommy laughs and feels Evan snuggle closer to him, nose rubbing against his collarbone. “You’re gonna be snoring by the time those end credits roll, babe.”

“I don’t snore,” Evan complains half-heartedly. He does, Tommy has watched him sleep enough times to know that he loves Evan’s little snores. It’s not creepy, it’s romantic. He hopes. “And I’m not gonna fall asleep.”

“You wanna bet?”

It’s not fair, essentially a scam. He already knows Evan is falling asleep, knows all the signs of a sleepy Evan - his body warmth changes, his eyes flutter, his breathing settles and he clings. 

All’s fair and all of that, he guesses.

“If I don’t fall asleep, you have to carry me to bed.” Evan clears his throat to make his voice clearer, no mumbling or drawn-out syllables. Tommy smirks at the attempt, sign number 5.

“And if you do?”

“You can be the little spoon tonight.”

Tommy laughs, how can he not? It’s not as if he won’t carry Evan to bed regardless. It’s not as if Evan doesn’t manhandle him during the night so he can wrap himself around Tommy’s back.

He can almost see the smirk in his boyfriend’s lips and he runs his hand up and down Evan’s thigh, relishing in the trembling of his muscles. “You have yourself a deal.”

Evan lifts his head to look up at Tommy and he gets his confirmation on the smirk. “Seal it with a kiss?”

As if he ever needs to ask. Tommy runs his hand up from his back to cup his jaw, Evan cushioning his head on his bicep, and tilts his boyfriend’s head up for a kiss. He swallows Evan’s sigh with his lips and lets his responding moan reverberate into the kiss. The kiss is slow, warm, all-consuming, unrushed, intoxicating, perfect.

Evan’s hand runs slowly up and down his chest, making its way under the shirt. Tommy shivers at the soft touch of his hand reaching up to his pecs, his hand tightening on Evan’s thigh. He presses small chaste kisses on Evan’s soft kisses as he disengages, relishing the contented noises his boyfriend makes, in the way he slowly blinks his eyes open.

There are declarations of love, of forever, coming from the TV. All Tommy sees is the slow smile spreading across his boyfriend’s lips, the bright hue of his eyes, the faint blush on his cheeks, the way his hands cling to him. 

Tommy hopes Evan never lets go.

“Should I take you to bed?” Tommy’s voice is low, hoarse.

“Mhmm,” Evan nods, his eyes glinting with a promise before he straddles him, wrapping his arms around Tommy’s neck. “I won.”

Tommy blinks away the haze of arousal the kiss started and that the weight of his boyfriend on his lap heightened. Chancing a glance at the TV, he sees the credits rolling, names of actors and characters - ugh, who wants a love interest called Walsh? - that neither of them paid attention to.

“Guess I have to carry you then,” Tommy huffs in faux reluctance, his hands running up Evan’s thighs to grab hold of his ass. He bites his lips at the way his boyfriend shuffles in his lap at the touch. “Does that mean that I get to be the big spoon tonight?”

Evan hums, pressing a slow kiss to Tommy’s lips, fingers running up the back of Tommy’s neck. He is putty in his boyfriend’s hands. “Take me to bed and we’ll see.”

After a smacking kiss, Tommy grunts as he gets up from the couch, Evan wrapping tightly around his body with a delighted laugh. With a sigh, his boyfriend hides his face in the space between Tommy’s neck and shoulder completing his clinging hold.

Evan is very clingy, the clingiest boyfriend he ever had. The clingiest boyfriend he ever wants to have. They take up the least amount of space in Tommy’s massive bed, bodies tangled so close together, not even a dust particle could get between them. 

Evan is very clingy. Tommy hopes that means he’ll want to keep him forever.

[candycandy00]

General NSFW Headcanons for One Piece Men

These are just some general sex/intimacy based Headcanons for some of my favorite OP men. I left out Law and Kid until I see more of them post time skip.

Keep in mind these are just my personal opinions! These are all assuming a Fem Reader. Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more!

Luffy: 

I’ve noticed while rewatching/ catching up that this guy is a hugger. He’s not shy at all about giving out affection to people he cares about, and I think that would carry over to more intimate moments. He’d definitely be the type to snuggle up to you during sex, wanting to be as physically close as possible. He might even wrap his arms around you multiple times, not in a restraining way but in a “I just want to completely wrap myself around you” way. 

Some people seem to think Luffy would be completely clueless about sex, but I disagree. I think it’s very likely that Ace explained a few things to him. They were at perfect ages (17 and 14) before Ace set out for a big brother to tell his younger brother about stuff like that. Even if Ace had no actual experience himself, he had to have heard a lot of talk from the bandits. So I think Luffy is aware of the basics at least, and his instincts would cover for whatever knowledge he lacks. He’s surprisingly perceptive at times.

Zoro:

Zoro is the one who would be clueless. Not about the mechanics of sex, but about what you want. This man would miss every signal you send his way, so you’d have to literally state outright that you want to have sex with him. During the act, you’d have to be very clear about what you want him to do, at least the first few times. You’re better off just taking his hands or head and putting them where you want because this guy can’t follow directions to save his life. 

Once the two of you have had sex a few times and he’s learned what you like, he would be a great lover. Zoro puts his all into everything he does, and that includes pleasing his darling. One of his best points is his stamina. He could go for multiple rounds without breaking a sweat, so prepare for long nights.

Sanji:

He’s all about his darling’s pleasure. He’d get much more satisfaction from watching you cum than from cumming himself. He would have a massive praise kink, both giving and receiving. He’d also be clingy and want to be intimate in some way with you nearly all the time (though he’d be happy with just cuddling, giving massages, etc. if you’re too tired for sex sometimes). He’d definitely prioritize your needs and wants over his own, mostly because making you happy is what he needs and wants. 

I think he’s definitely a virgin, and he’s the type who will fall madly in love with the first woman who sleeps with him. Once he’s in love and in a committed relationship, he’s not going to be chasing other women. He’ll still notice a beautiful lady, but he won’t comment on them or visibly react, because he doesn’t want to upset his darling or make her feel insecure.

Usopp: 

This guy right here? He’s the one to keep your eye on. Because once he actually gets some experience, he’ll be one of the best lovers in the series. The first time he’s gonna be nervous and awkward, probably boasting that he’s had a thousand lovers whom he satisfied completely (while nearly fainting from nerves). But once he gets over those initial nerves, he’s gonna lock in on learning all the best techniques. When Usopp gets serious about something, he studies and practices until he’s great at it. 

I also have a headcanon that he’s got a huge dick (I mean, look at that nose) and just doesn’t know how to use it yet. Emphasis on yet. Give him some time and he’ll rock your world.

Franky:

The best thing about Franky as a lover is that he’s completely nonjudgmental. Have a wild kink you wanna try? He’s shrugging and saying sure, let’s go for it. Insecure about a part of your body? He’s showing you some crazy modification he’s made to his own just to prove all bodies are unique and wonderful. You’re never gonna feel shamed over anything with Franky, and that’s so freeing. The next best thing is that this guy will come equipped with all sorts of toys and gadgets to spice up the sex. If he doesn’t have what you want, he can just construct it on the fly. 

It’s hard for me to decide whether I think he’s had a lot of experience or not. I’m guessing he’s had some given his age, background, and being a self professed pervert. He seems like he would be a sex positive person, or maybe just see it as no big deal. Just another way to express affection. I think he’s pretty chill about sex, basically.

Brook:

Okay, so Brook is pretty limited by the fact that he’s a skeleton and has no dick or tongue to work with. But he does have those long pianist’s fingers, and he’d certainly be happy to use them to please his darling. As we all know, he also has a panty fetish, so the easiest way to get him riled up would be to model the cute new sets you bought. He’s still a gentleman though, so he treats his darling with care and respect, always asking for permission before touching you and making you feel valued. 

He probably had a decent amount of experience when he was alive, but he’s very new to being intimate as a skeleton. There would be some trial and error and he might get a little depressed about his limitations, but I think he’d get over it fairly quickly and just be happy to have someone special in his, uh, life.

Ace: 

In my opinion, Ace would be very warm and loving in bed. Very passionate. Like his brother, he’d be very affectionate with his darling. This is a man who places a ton of value on bonds, on loving and being loved. He’s definitely going to show how much he loves you, in the most intimate way possible. Think lots of eye contact, physical closeness, slow and very deep fucking. I don’t think he’d be the super romantic type to leave a trail of rose petals to the bed or whatever, but once the two of you are in bed he’s giving you his undivided attention and just enjoying the feeling of being inside you. Also kinda think he’d have a bit of a breeding kink. 

I think it’s highly likely he’s had some experience. He’s a handsome, likable guy who traveled around a lot by himself. Judging by how he blushed around Makino, it’s a safe bet he likes ladies. Specifically, pretty ladies who show him kindness. I don’t think he’d be shy or awkward but I can’t really see him acting like some arrogant sex god either.

Shanks:

Get ready for some sloppy drunken sex. I’m talking making out as you both make your way to the bed, tripping on stuff along the way and giggling like teenagers. You might not remember everything that happened, but you know it was fun! I somehow can’t picture Shanks settling down in a committed relationship but he would agree to being exclusive with you. So you guys wouldn’t be a couple but anytime he’s drunk and horny you’re the one he goes to. And if you’re in his crew, you’re probably half drunk yourself. But you guys have an agreement, so consent was already given. Shanks would give you a great time and be charming and funny, but he’s gone by the time you wake up. 

He’s definitely had an active sex life. He’s too charming not to. Too well traveled and handsome. And while some of his past lovers miss him, none of them regret their time with him and look back on it fondly.

Buggy:

Similar to Usopp, Buggy would be full of false bravado at first. But when it comes time to do the deed, he’s strangely shy. Buggy isn’t used to being loved and cherished. He hasn’t had that since he was a kid, so he’s going to need a lot of reassuring. You’d have to stroke his ego a bit to get him in the right headspace to have sex. But once you do, he’ll be a surprisingly sweet and giving lover. He’ll want to be a dom, but will usually end up being a bit subby to you. He’d probably become very emotionally attached to you if you give him a blowjob. Giving him any sort of kindness or genuine love will make him fall head over heels.

I’m torn between thinking Buggy is still a virgin and thinking he had some experience in his younger, wilder days. He doesn’t strike me as the type to have a lot of one night stands, but he could have had a relationship at some point that we just don’t know about.

Crocodile:

A lot of people want to see him as a brat tamer, and I see the appeal, but in my opinion he’d prefer a mature relationship. I think he’d want someone classy that would match his vibe. So he’s going to keep his darling dressed up in the finest clothes and jewelry. I have a headcanon that he’s a sucker for fancy lingerie. He loves buying it for you, seeing you wear it, and especially taking it off you, slowly, piece by piece. I also think he’d be into some light bondage. Nothing too elaborate, just tying your wrists together with his belt occasionally. 

For Crocodile, the most intimate act would be showering together. Because of his weakness to water, he’s incredibly vulnerable while showering, so he’s only going to invite you to join him if he trusts you completely. Doesn’t get more intimate than that.

Rob Lucci:

He’s going to be a very stoic lover, not very verbal at all in the heat of the moment, but his body will tell you all you need to know. He would be very primal, hands on your throat, taking you from behind, growling in your ear. But at the same time, he’s making sure you’re totally satisfied. Don’t expect an actual relationship with this man. He’ll rearrange your guts and then disappear before you can roll over. But he keeps coming back to you. He might even develop a soft spot for you, so long as you respect his privacy and don’t ask for a commitment. 

The bird stays in the room, but give it some crackers as a distraction and it won’t stare the whole time. 

[peepawispunk]

Efflorescence

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Rating: M for language

Summary: The disease of the lovesick, his Mom used to call it. Love with nowhere to go, that turned inward and grew into flowers in your lungs.

Warnings/tags: Angst, hanahaki disease, mutual pining, hurt/comfort.

I never use Y/N in my fics.

Word count: 1K

There will be a second part.

My Masterlist My AO3

It starts with a tickle in his throat. One he puts down to smoking cigarettes. He tells himself he'll quit, just as soon as this Escobar shit is over. 

Then, the shortness of breath comes. The feeling like he can't get a full breath of air into his lungs.  Again, he eyes off the packet of cigarettes on his desk. Not yet. 

Then, the cough. Not bad enough to affect him, not really. He is starting to wonder if the cancer sticks are living up to their name. Knows he should quit. But fuck, he's so close to catching Escobar. Can't afford the distraction of quitting right now. It's just a cough. 

Then, one quiet morning as he's waiting for his coffee to brew, a petal. Tiny, white, unassuming. And covered in saliva as it sits in the palm of his hand.

“Fuck.” He swears gravely, staring in disbelief and denial. He hears your bedroom door open, and quickly shoves the petal into his pocket. The bathroom door closes a second later with a quiet snick, and he breathes a sigh of relief, grateful for the extra moment to process this new information, the tiny petal a lead weight in his pocket. 

Fuckin’ Hanahaki disease. 

The disease of the lovesick, his Mom used to call it. Love with nowhere to go, that turned inward and grew into flowers in your lungs. 

Petals were just the beginning. The earliest stage that people were usually diagnosed. As it progressed, it would become whole flowers, stems, and root systems for him to cough up. Until the roots took hold and made it impossible to shift the plant matter from his lungs. 

No treatment existed. No cure, except reciprocated, requited love.

Well, at least it wasn’t cancer. He could still smoke. It wouldn’t make a fuckin’ difference to the progression of the disease.

He was so fucked.

In love with his fucking roommate, and lungs full of flowers to prove it, too. He’d known he had feelings for you; how could he not. He hadn’t realised it was love, though. It’s a cruelty, to finally know what love feels like with certainty, and to know that it’s going to kill him.

It’s with shaking hands that he retrieves his cigarettes and lighter from where they sit on the counter. He’s definitely not going to quit now. There wouldn’t be a point. 

He slips a cigarette between barely-parted lips, lighting it up and closing his eyes, leaning against the counter. 

“Long night?” You ask, bare feet padding into the kitchen. You look adorable as always, sleep-mussed and wearing that oversized shirt you favour as pajamas, fuzzy purple socks on your feet.

He exhales smoke out of the side of his mouth, away from you. His brow is furrowed slightly, a crease of tension in his forehead. 

“Something like that.” He mutters, taking another drag. 

He’s not a morning person at the best of times, but your gut instinct is telling you something is wrong. Men, in your experience, tend not to realise the signals and body language they put out when something is off. They think they’re mysterious, or just great actors. But women can always tell, always read it when the vibes are off. Just like you can tell, right now. 

It could be one of a hundred things, with Javi. He’s a complicated man, plays things close to his chest. You’ve seen him vulnerable only twice, and he was very drunk both times, so you know that whatever he’s going through, he’s probably not going to tell you.

It kills you to see him like this. 

The instinctive need to comfort him, be there for him, wars with the logical side of your brain that tells you he won’t let you. Sure, you have a great friendship, but he’s not exactly a touchy-feely kind of guy. 

Still…

“You look like you could use a hug.” You say biting the dry skin of your bottom lip as you watch him.

He rocks his jaw, taking another drag of his cigarette, but he doesn’t say no. His brows draw tighter, and you make an executive decision, telegraphing your movements to give him enough time to stop you if he doesn’t want this. 

You step closer to him, wrapping your arms around his middle, and his body sags immediately. He exhales smoke against your ear, and you notice he smells oddly…floral? Perfume, maybe? You know he has a…habit, of sleeping with his informants. Maybe something happened with a woman? 

He drops the lit cigarette into the sink so he can wrap his arms around you, and you hear the hiss it makes as it lands in the shallow water, extinguishing.

You realise he’s shaking, his breathing hitched and unsteady as he tries to hold himself together. Your hands pull him tighter, closer to you, as if you could hold him together just by holding him tighter. You’ve seen him upset before, stressed, frustrated, mourning. You’ve never seen him like this. 

“Hey, it’s going to be okay.” The words are meaningless when you don’t know what’s wrong. You’d make it okay if you could, though. You’re going to try. 

He doesn’t answer, but he shakes his head, burying his face in your neck. 

“Is it Steve? Connie? Chucho? Did something happen?” You ask, mind racing with the possibilities. 

“No.” He croaks, shaking his head again. 

“Is someone sick?” You’re starting to really worry now.

He can’t lie to you. Can’t even try. He’s a raw nerve, busted open. He can’t tell you the truth, but he can’t lie, either. So, he nods.

“Fuck.” You squeeze him tighter still, forcing the air from his lungs. You loosen your hold immediately, but a cough bubbles up in his chest, crackling and violent, and you release him as he turns to cough over the sink. 

Petals fall from his mouth.

No.

He struggles to catch his breath, the floral scent of edelweiss permeating the air in the small kitchen. Your hand goes to his back to rub it soothingly even as your world collapses. 

The man you love is in love with someone else. And it’s killing him. 

A tickle begins in your throat.

[wildsaltair]

husband? husband???

[skitskatdacat63]

I don't think I can ever emotionally recover from these

[lilacxquartz]

love you, love you, love you;

mr. crawling x reader

plot: some things are best expressed without the need of words — themes: spooning/cuddling, smut, maybe yan vibes — w.c: 1.1k

a/n: my first homicipher related fic. i want to try one for mr. silvair & mr. gap next, bc they were also my favs. this game has been taking over my life so much lately. like it’s been in my dreams, haaah.

masterlist • ao3

Mr. Crawling was always loud when he was excited within your company; his laughter filled out the vast empty spaces that were otherwise unadorned with familiarity. Whatever you once sought from those winding corridors was ever-fleeting, temporary, leaving you stuck within the confines of his company.

Yet, when he felt what you could only interpret as affection—that’s when Mr. Crawling then became different—quiet, soothing, kind but also… curious.

And when you would usually sleep, he would stand watch, knelt over the floor as per his usual stance but sometimes crouched near you, sometimes leaning back against the wall with his legs pressed up against his chest. He would watch you as his life depended on it, unwavering in focus and with eerie intensity. He would watch as your chest rose and fell, leaning close on occasion to catch the sweep of your breath and sometimes, he would trace the pad of his milky fingertips in long, languid strokes against your face. Always so delicate, so tender, but for the most part, quiet and even shy.

Having once caught a glimpse of Mr. Gap in your blanket space, however, set something territorial off for Mr. Crawling and he was never able to recover from such an invasion. The very idea that someone else was able to infiltrate what he deemed to be your space—especially someone who he disapproved of—wasn’t something he could stand for. Especially with the sort of trickster Mr. Gap was, he couldn’t bear to see you get hurt. It would kill him on the inside (and on the outside, too).

So, just as you were getting into bed to rest up once more, he too, slipped in under the covers with you. At first, you were startled as usual, turning to face him with confusion evident in your eyes, murmuring out some words in a language that he still could not understand. He repeated something back, the meaning lost and indecipherable upon your ears, though soon surrendering to emphasis using gestures instead. A hug to bring you closer, a reassuring pat on your head and a small, longing kiss over your nose.

You listened to his words again, repeating over and over like a broken record.

Perhaps he meant no harm, after all.

You turned your back to him and settled into his chest, finding that he was surprisingly warm for what he was. His taller frame encased your body, wrapping his ashen arms around your waist—accidentally brushing the fabric that sat over your breast—nicking the cloth ever so slightly. Your breath hitched in surprise and as though in sheepish realisation, he withdrew right away, terrified that you were upset with him.

You drew out a long breath, reminding yourself again, that after everything that has happened thus far…

That, Mr. Crawling does not want to hurt you.

That Mr. Crawling has only ever helped you.

So perhaps, right now, Mr. Crawling only wanted to be closer to you.

You relaxed your breathing, settling into his comforting shadow once more and allowed for his presence to envelop you. He repeated the soothing motions of his grappling arm, although he held onto you softer that time. His hands explored your body with a delicate touch, as though afraid of breaking you—of upsetting you again—his motions growing confident the longer that you didn’t protest. It wasn’t long before he, otherwise not disturbed by your lacking, conscious awareness, decided to explore further with you. Mr. Crawling’s fingers didn’t ask for permission that time, creeping beneath the clinging fabric, feeling your skin against his palms, inviting a pleased, almost delighted smile to curl on his lips.

The silence remained unbroken as Mr. Crawling continued his explorative focus on you; the quickly-building evidence of his need growing harder the longer he pushed himself behind your body, the repeated touches arousing something warmer within him. To both his surprise as well as your own—you were not repulsed, allowing him to creep even lower, below the skirt of the dress and up, brushing his hand up to your exposed skin and, reading into it—you communicated your consent from the moment you parted your legs, allowing him to get even closer.

Confidence surged in Mr. Crawling as he pushed himself into your hilt, allowing his hardened length to slip inside. Betraying the stagnant silence, he shuddered out a ragged gasp before giving into his own rising need; grinding himself into your sopping sex with steadily increasing fervour. His fingers clamped around the curve of your hips as he held you in place, slamming every last inch of himself deep into your core.

Ever touch-starved yet wanting nothing more than to surrender to the sensation of you, Mr. Crawling continued to drive his cock into your needy cunt, soon wrapping his winding arms around your body and holding on tight. He bucked intensely as you soon succumbed to breathless whimpers, incoherently begging for his name. Equally desperate whines rolled off the slip of his tongue as he found his lips pressed into the crook of your neck, dampening your skin with sloppy wet kisses—as many as he could give.

It felt overwhelming for you in a way to be worshipped like this but you did your best to keep up with such intensity, especially as the warm, tingling pleasure built up inside of you, too. You held on just as tight as he did, your hand seeking out his own—fingers weaving into his bony digits—interlocking and squeezing tight the closer you got, your grip and otherwise clenching need tightening simultaneously. To feel him losing himself inside of you was dare you admit, addicting, feeling him completely fill and stretch you out leaving you almost dizzied from the impaling force.

Mr. Crawling, like you, soon surrendered to the rolling bliss from the flick of his hips, feeling a surging warmth mount and rise, encouraging him to lose himself to the searing heat of the moment and you. Encircling your body in a possessive hug, he suddenly began to mutter out a new word in a strained mantra, again and again.

Given how desperate he seemed to be, you understood the meaning as ‘close’, especially as his actions grew more strained and less controlled.

“Close, close, close,” he repeated.

It didn’t take his chased release to catch up as his hips grew to a stutter, rutting out one final pump before melting into you. Mr. Crawling cried into your neck, spilling out the entirety of his overflowing love, feeling the pent-up devotion trickle down your thighs—yet not letting you move away—still retaining his claim on you.

Instead, he kept you even closer than before, not allowing you to part from him ever again (despite understanding your yearning for rest).

Words were never the problem, it seemed.

Mr. Crawling would have always found a way to… connect with you.

[eclips-moon]

The Batboys being clingy headcanon:

Including Duke and Bruce <3

Hope you guys like it!

Tim Drake Tim’s clinginess is low-key, but it’s also constant. He’s the type to text you “What’s up? I miss you <3” while you’re just sitting 5 feet away from him. If you so much as stand up to go get a snack, he’s immediately there, like, “Where are you going? Don’t leave me.” He’ll lean against you, his hand finding yours without him even realizing it. When you're watching TV or reading, he’s definitely leaning into your side, trying to get as close as possible without being too obvious. But if you move to shift positions? Nope, he’s following you. He’ll slip his arm around your waist, all like, “Don’t think I didn’t notice that.” He’s not a big PDA guy, but when it’s just the two of you? Prepare for cuddles, hand-holding, and small, random kisses. He’s gotta be touching you constantly.

Jason Todd Jason is obsessive, no doubt. He’s that partner who’ll try to act like he’s tough and independent, but the moment you show him any kind of affection, he’s all over you. Like, you can’t just hug him. No. He’ll climb into your lap and basically trap you there, rubbing his face into your neck like a cat. He’s gonna constantly ask for kisses, too, but not just little pecks—he wants full-on, deep kisses where he can pull you close and remind you that you’re his. If you’re doing something, like, working or even hanging out with friends, he’ll try to drag you away, be like, “Hey, come hang out with me, stop ignoring me for two seconds.” He’s possessive, but in the cutest way, constantly needing your attention. If you even talk to another person for too long, he’ll give them side-eye and pull you back to him like, “You good? You’re not gonna leave me for some random guy, are you?” He’s also the type to cling to you in bed, hogging the covers and curling up like a human koala.

Dick Grayson Dick’s clingy energy is pure gold. He’s the most affectionate of the bunch and doesn’t shy away from public displays of love. He loves hugging you from behind, nuzzling into your neck, and just randomly planting kisses all over your face. He’ll text you “miss you <3” every few hours when you’re apart, and when you’re together? It’s all about touch. He’s sitting on your lap, or leaning on your shoulder, or pulling you into his chest just because he needs to be close to you. If you’re watching a movie, he’s definitely going to have his head in your lap, just to be as close to you as humanly possible. He gets giddy when he gets attention from you, too. You could be playing with his hair, and he’ll melt. He’ll whine like, “I’m not clingy, you’re clingy. But also, I love it. So don’t stop.” Honestly, Dick doesn’t care if he’s acting like a bit of a puppy—he’s obsessed with you, and he makes sure you know it.

Damian Wayne Damian’s clingy moments are hilariously dramatic. He might start out cold, acting like he doesn’t need anyone, but as soon as you show him any affection? He’s all in. He’ll randomly grab your hand and hold it like it’s the most important thing in the world. If you try to walk away from him for whatever reason, he’ll growl and pull you back in, like, “Where are you going? You’re staying right here.” He has this whole vibe of “I don’t need anyone else, just you”, so if you’re talking to someone else or looking away from him for too long, he’ll wrap his arm around your waist and be like, “I don’t think you should be talking to them. They might steal you away from me.” In bed? He’s a hug monster, wrapping his arms around you like he’s never letting you go. He’s all about the intimacy, though—when it’s just the two of you, he’ll be soft and surprisingly vulnerable, making sure you know that he needs you more than he lets on.

Duke Thomas Duke is lowkey super clingy, but in the way that’s goofy and endearing. He loves to follow you around, like, just wherever you go, he’s tagging along. You’re going to the kitchen? He’s there. To grab something from the laundry room? He’s there. If you sit down, he’s sitting on the floor next to you, asking if you want to “cuddle and watch dumb shows together.” He’s always finding excuses to touch you—like, his hand will just casually rest on your knee or he’ll come up behind you and play with your hair. And if you don’t give him attention? He’ll pout, even if he’s trying to play it off, like, “Aren’t you gonna give me a kiss? C’mon, don’t leave me hanging.” He’s the type who’ll give you a silly smile, lean in for a kiss, and then pull you into a full-on hug like, “Don’t go. I’m not done with you yet.” He’s all about the hugs, especially after a long day. You’ll be just chilling, and suddenly he’s like, “Hug time, right? Let me get one.”

Bruce Wayne Now, Bruce is not the type to openly admit he’s clingy. He’s still the stoic, brooding billionaire who’s been through a lot, but when it’s just the two of you? He’s softer than anyone expects. He’ll always make sure you’re physically close—his hand on your lower back, your legs touching when you sit next to him, and if he’s standing near you, his hand will casually rest on your arm. When you’re working late or doing something serious, Bruce will occasionally pull you away for a few minutes just to kiss you or hold you close. He’s not great at asking for attention, but when he’s feeling clingy, he’ll show you through little gestures. You’ll find him just sitting beside you in silence, just content to be in your presence. He’s a man of few words, but when he’s clingy, it’s all about the touch—the way he holds your hand, how he presses his shoulder to yours, and how he’ll insist on driving you home or waiting up for you, just to make sure you’re safe.

[all-eyes-no-dragon]

Learning shape theory was so great for my art

I was able to make body types for my characters, I found out why I hated Alan's glasses so damn much, I made a cool gargoyle today who is truly the gargoyle of all time someone said he looked like the minion from clash royale, which I suppose is better than old man?

Edit: the moment I doodled over the oval glasses and decided he needed a change of shape

[sleep-0-deprived]

Yandere CEO who is serious and strict but becomes a real puppy at the reader's feet, he gives everything the reader wants and kneels before him asking to be able to touch and give pleasure to the reader.

Yandere CEO x male reader imagines~! ૮꒰ྀི ⸝⸝․․⸝⸝ ྀི꒱ა

A/N (I did the Yandere as a sub top and I thought of the Yandere being mid forties while reader being late twenties because I thought it fit best anon!) <33

Just imagining Yandere CEO being a complete heartless man to the world, old and cold as they say. Until he seen your resume running across his desk and if you told him of love at first sight he would scoff at you and kick you out but oh my, when he seen the small picture of you next to your resume he didn’t even care to read it because this man was going to have you. The only words he could think of was “he must’ve been crafted by the gods, I bet Adonis himself spent his life carving those lips” shivers went through him dialing your number trying to get a interview with you.

Just imagining Yandere CEO who hires you at first for your pretty face making you his assistant putting you a desk in his office wanting all eight hours of your days to be spent close as he can get to you, being soft and sweet for you unlike his mean and cold demeanor with the rest of his employees. he’d glance over at you typing something on your computer quietly asking “are you alright? Did you need a break, your hands aren’t sore are they?….i can get you into a nice spa if you’d like. I don’t want my best employee burnt out”

Just imagining Yandere CEO who gets you gifts on the daily nearly pouting if you tell him not to, all he wants is for you to cling to him! He’d beg and plead asking you to let him suck you off whispering in your ear “let me help you out, boy?…I wanna ease you up a bit, you deserve the best so just let me give it to you” he’d mumble getting on his knees and massaging your thighs nice and gentle getting your cock out of your slacks worshipping it nuzzling his face into it peppering your angry tip with wet kisses.

Just imagining Yandere CEO who sends you flowers takes you on fancy trips. Sending you to Rome with him when he goes to sort out business you’re sitting somewhere in a fancy restaurant holding his black card telling you “buy anything you want, I wanna spoil you baby..” and by the time he gets back to your five star hotel room all he asks os for all your affection groaning into your ears holding you by the waist bucking and thrusting his hips up into you from beneath murmuring on and on rambling having you on his cock sending shivers through him “oh you’re so perfect~ pretty little thing~ hng oh fuck moan a little louder you sound angelic like that—“ he’d whimper spilling into you nibbling on your shoulder softly.

Just imagining Yandere CEO who asks you all sweetly if he can have you cock warm him while he manages files, pleading just wanting to please you wanting to have you all sprawled out like a happy cat with his chubby tip pressing and massaging your walls just bullying your prostate while he tugs at your cock like its glass having you orgasming more times than you can count pleasing you like it’s his life’s mission “c’mon baby boy, one more for me? I know you can push it out shhh doin perfect there’s a good boy”

Just imagining Yandere CEO who loves your chest, worshipping them as his holy grail sucking at hurrying his fave in your pretty s/c pecks. Nibbling at your nipples pressing little kisses to your peaks using his hands to massage them while he rotates back and forth making sure each one gets the perfect amount of attention “they are so beautiful sweetheart, god your skin tastes so divine” it was like sex polling with your skin covered in the finest nectar for him driving him insane hazily looking up at you with complete and utter infatuation.

[not-neverland06]

Hey! Your writing is amazing! I’ve been checking daily for new fics lmao

I was wondering if your requests were open would you be able to write some angst with a happy ending w/ Peanut?

Perhaps a Shy!Reader who has flirty banter with Logan. They’re on a mission and Logan has to make a quick decision on who to save — Reader or Jean and he saves Jean without thinking. Reader ends up surviving with a few injuries but her and Logan’s relationship starts to deteriorate. Logan’s not good with verbal apologies so he does acts of service — bringing reader food/drinks etc. reader is stubborn and Logan starts to get frustrated. He eventually proves himself to reader.

I’m sorry if this is confusing!! I’m not creative enough to write it myself and you’re really really skilled. Love your work x

a/n: I read this request and then read them together and my brain imploded because I loved it so much, no smut in this one Summary: Logan saves Jean on a mission and it's the wake-up call you desperately needed to understand that you will never be her. You can't stand to look at him anymore and he doesn't understand why you've stopped talking to him.

“What’re you thinking of doing after this?”

You shrug, leaning back on the uncomfortable bench seats and looking over at Logan. “Not sure, got any plans?”

Logan smirks and you immediately know whatever he’s about to say is going to send you spiraling. “Yeah, whatever you’re doing, sweetheart.”

Oh. My. God!

You know you’ve got it bad when something as simple as that has you swooning. It’s so easy to fall into this routine with him, to pretend you’re more suave than you actually are. Despite your usual tendency to fade into the background, you find it nearly impossible to do with him. 

Where someone else might let you stay quiet and go ignored, he seeks you out. He makes you feel seen and heard. Some days you don’t know if you appreciate it or despise it. You laugh a little, trying to hide just how affected by him you are. “Sounds good, Lo.”

He smiles and leans back on the seat, his arm coming around the back to rest lightly over your shoulders. You can tell from the look on Storm’s face that she’s trying not to laugh at you. You can’t blame her, you’re sure your eyes have tripled in size and you look absolutely stunned. 

Flirting isn’t out of the usual for you and him. Lately, though, he’s upped the game. Touching you more than usual, spending more one-on-one time together. You can feel it all building up to something. You’re shy, not stupid, you know when a guy’s going to ask you out. 

But it feels like he’s dragging it out longer than necessary like he’s enjoying teasing you a little too much.  “Alright,” Scott stands up and moves towards the back of the jet. “We’re almost there, get ready.”

You, very reluctantly, pull away from Logan and get to your feet. He walks past you, briefly squeezing your hand before joining Scott by the ramp. You grin, flexing your hand by your side and trying to memorize the feeling. 

The ramp lowers to the ground and Scott and Logan lead the way out. You’re expecting this to be simple. Stake out the area, find some information about the people running the warehouse, and figure out what exactly it is that they’ve been doing. 

The air is bursting with moisture. It’s suffocating, how humid it is, how it makes the material of your suit cling to your skin. You know the rest of the team can feel it. That it’s irritating them just as much. 

None of you want to be out here in the peak of summer, trying to be stealthy in these ridiculous costumes. Your thighs squeak every time they rub together. It’s beyond embarrassing. You know that that’s what has you all distracted. 

You’re struggling through ankle-deep mud and sweating buckets. So none of you are paying any particular attention to the area around you. Technically, you shouldn’t have to, you’re still about a mile out from where you need to be. 

You duck, hands coming up to cover your ears as Charles’ voice screams through your mind. It’s a trap!

Even with the warning, there’s no time to prepare. The ground around you explodes, grass and dirt flying through the air. Logan grabs your arm, he shoves himself in front of you and takes the brunt of the bullets. Splatters of blood hits your cheeks and he runs you both behind a tree for cover. 

The other three have all found their own cover and they’re struggling to figure out where the shots are coming from. You spot something in the underbrush and scream, “Behind you!”

It’s more of a warning to duck than it is to move. You throw your hands up, shoving the man away from them and sending him flying into the trunk of a tree. You swear you can hear the snap of his spine as it hits the bark. 

You look to Jean and nod towards the small clearing of trees. “Don’t,” Logan warns. But you’re already slipping out of his grip and solidifying the air in front of you. It provides enough of a cover, absorbing the bullets, and giving you all time to figure out a plan of attack. 

Jean moves beside you, eyes narrowing on the perimeter of your cover. “There are too many of them, more than I can count.” 

“How did they know we were coming?” Scott snaps, keeping an eye on the area behind you. 

Your arms struggle under the weight of your power. The more bullets they shoot into your cover, the harder it is to keep up. You’re forced to absorb their energy, push it out tenfold to try and keep the blockage solidified. 

“Guys,” you snap, “we need a plan. I can’t hold it much longer.” You grit your teeth, taking a step forward to try and push against the strain. It does nothing but make your bones ache. Logan shoots you a concerned glance, coming up behind you like he wants to take the weight off your shoulders. But there’s nothing he can do. 

There’s movement behind you, a boot snapping a twig in two. You can’t risk looking back but you can hear the worry in Jean’s voice. “Ten of them-”

You can tell by the sounds of their movement that the others don’t give her much of a chance to finish. Ororo, Scott, and Logan all shoot forward to deal with the threat. Ten isn’t much to worry about. But that doesn’t change the fact that the men in front of you haven’t let up and you’re about to weep from the weight of keeping the wall up. 

Jean stays beside you, brows furrowed in concern. She places her hand on your shoulder and closes her eyes. A second later you feel something like a cool blanket laid over you. The tension in your arms and core eases just enough for you to stop clenching your jaw so hard. Some of the strain eases away and you know she’s sharing it with you. 

But just as quickly as the relief was given, it’s yanked away. Jean jumps back with a gasp, “Flux, we need to move!”

“I can’t,” you shout, fighting to be heard over the sound of bloodshed and gunshots going off in front of and behind you. The others are steadily moving through the people surrounding you, but their numbers are still overwhelming. “It’ll all come crashing down,” you tell her. 

She glances towards the bullets, finally spotting the way they’re slowly, but steadily, moving through the thickened air. The second you let go you’ll be riddled with holes. “Shit,” she hisses. “Look, we can’t stay here much longer-”

She’s cut off by a loud bang. You’re so disoriented by the noise your hands drop to your sides. At the same moment, you hear wood splintering and cracking beside you. What has to be the largest tree in the forest creaks before it begins its descent down towards you both. 

You don’t what happened, or what they used, but it doesn’t matter. The wall in front of you is fading. You have seconds to get out of the way of the bullets and the tree, you’re not sure either of you is going to make it. 

“Jean!” There’s a flash of brown hair and Jean’s being tackled to the ground, safely out of the way of the tree and bullets. You feel something stinging against your shoulder and know the first bullet’s made its way through. 

You also see the tree is almost over top of you. You’ve always been a fight response in flight or fight scenarios. But when there’s nothing to fight, when you have nothing to go up against, you freeze. It’s horrible, you know it, but there’s nothing you can do about it. 

Even as you’re desperately screaming at yourself to just fucking move, all you can do is watch as the tree topples down on top of you. “Flux, duck!” The words trigger something in your brain just soon enough to drop to the ground. 

Scott releases a red beam, blasting through the tree and knocking it off course. You don’t even register the smell of burning flesh as you lay in the mud. Your blood is rushing so fast in your veins, there’s so much adrenaline pumping through you, you can’t focus on anything except the sound of your heartbeat. 

You let out a breath of relief, slowly lifting yourself up to your knees. You don’t hear any more fighting and you figure whoever they hadn’t taken down before, the beam took care of the rest. 

You look down, checking yourself for any bullet holes or serious damage but you can’t find anything. Something warm trickles down your shoulder, it drips across your arm and down your hand. 

You look at the blood curiously, it seems to steady a flow from the simple bullet graze you’d had earlier. “Oh my god,” Jean whispers your name and you turn around with a concerned look. 

You want to ask her what’s wrong but your eyes are trained on the way Logan’s arms are bracketing her. He’s practically on top of her, only now getting up to check on you. You get it, it was a stressful situation, he acted fast. 

But that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow the lump in your throat. It doesn’t ease the burn of betrayal. He saved her, not you. He chose her even though she doesn’t want him. The anger you’re feeling only makes it harder to be aware of your surroundings. 

It’s not until Scott kneels behind you a presses a gentle hand against your back that you lurch forward with a loud cry. The pain slams down on you all at once. The wind blowing gently against your back feels like someone’s dug razor blades in your skin and ripped. 

Feet rush towards you, someone kneeling beside you and grabbing your shoulders. Logan forces you up and makes you look at him before his gaze turns to your back. “What the fuck did you do?” He practically growls, lunging towards Scott. 

He grabs him by the collar and shoves him into the dirt. Ororo and Jean leap forward, trying unsuccessfully to rip him off. You try and keep your eyes open, try and stay focused. The pain is too much, you don’t want to be awake for this anymore. Every nerve on your back feels like it’s being forcefully exposed and plucked at. 

Your brain forces a shutdown and you slump into the mud, the world going black. 

When you wake up, you’re on your stomach. You’re a little dazed, not fully remembering how you got here. You try and sit up but there’s a steady grip around your wrists stopping you. “Don’t move,” Jean warns from somewhere behind you. 

You try and look for her but you can’t move much. Your head feels like it weighs a hundred pounds, stuck to the pillow beneath you. “What happened? Why can’t I move?”

Her shoes appear in front of you and then she’s kneeling down, a slightly worried look on her face. “We needed to make sure you didn’t roll over in your sleep.” Her brows crinkle and she frowns, “You don’t remember?” You shake your head minutely. She sighs, lifting her hand to your face and pressing her chilled fingers to your temple. 

The images rush towards you. You see it all from her eyes. The way Logan had grabbed her and thrown her to the ground, checking over her and not once looking at you. How Scott had tried to stop the tree from breaking your spine. His beam had just barely grazed your back as you had ducked. But it was enough for there to be serious damage. 

Through her view, you can see the way your skin had bubbled up and blistered. How horribly damaged it was. You have limited healing abilities, but it was enough to stop the nerves from being permanently damaged. 

She lets you go and you groan, the pain slowly registering in your brain. It’s dulled and you don’t know if they’ve given you drugs or if your abilities are still working to help you. “How’s Scott?” 

She chuckles and shakes her head while she undoes the restraints around your wrist. “He feels awful. He keeps coming by to check on you.”

The thought of him sitting beside you while you were strapped down to the bed makes you feel a little bad. It wasn’t his fault, he’d helped you. It was more than Logan had done for you. 

You frown, hating yourself for being bitter. If he hadn’t helped, Jean might not be here next to you. He had saved your friend. The thought didn’t bring much comfort, though. “I’m not mad at him.”

Jean eases you onto your knees and slowly helps you sit up. It causes minimal pain, but it’s still uncomfortable enough to grit your teeth and dig your nails into your palms. “I know, but he’ll probably be coming down here a lot to check on you.”

You almost ask her if anyone else has visited. If Logan had, but you don’t think her answer would make you feel any better. “He did,” she tells you and you click your tongue in irritation. 

“Out of my head,” you warn. She releases you with a small grin. “I don’t care,” you tell her, trying to appear nonchalant. 

She tilts her head, eyes narrowing on you. “Yes, you do. And I don’t need telepathy to know.” She walks towards your IV bag, fiddling around with something on the line. “He was here whenever he could be, practically lived beside you.”

“Don’t care,” you tell her again, but there’s less conviction this time. 

Jean frowns and you hate how guilty she looks. It’s not her fault he’s desperately in love with her and not you. You can’t force someone to love you or choose you. And you don’t want to. You want someone to love you for who you are, not because they couldn’t have their first choice. 

“Don’t,” you say lowly. “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.”

She doesn’t get a chance to say anything before the door bursts open, both Logan and Scott sliding into your room. Scott lets out a relieved breath when he sees you. He breathes out your name and approaches with a guilty smile, “You’re awake.”

“Charles told us,” Logan informs. You offer him a brief glance before diverting your attention to Scott. 

Petty, you’re aware. But you don’t want to see Logan right now. You’d put so much effort and time into your friendship with him. It doesn’t even matter if he doesn’t feel the same way about you. You two are best friends, and he didn’t even try to help you when you needed him the most. 

So, you smile at Scott. You forgive him and you tell him you're fine. You chat with him and Jean while Logan just stares at you from the other side of your bed. You can’t make yourself face him. You don’t want to look at him, it makes you sick to your stomach.

Eventually, Scott’s guilt is slightly assuaged and he and Jean leave for the night. Logan is a heavy presence beside you, one you no longer can ignore. You shift around, pretending to fluff your pillows until he grabs your hand. 

“What’re you doing?”

You look at his hand and then at him. Whatever look is on your face is enough for him to release you and back off. “Getting comfortable,” you spit out, more venom in your voice than necessary. Something clicks for him, you can see it as it happens. 

He backs up and narrows his eyes down at you. “Right.” He frowns and sucks on his teeth, nodding his head silently. “I’ll come back when you’re feeling a little better.” You don’t miss the hidden dig underneath it all, the way he’s calling out you’re unusual behavior. 

“I think that’d be best.”

He scoffs and shakes his head, slamming the door behind him as he leaves. You jump at the noise and it makes you hiss as a twinge of pain shoots down your spine. You feel slightly guilty about the whole interaction. Then, you remember the way he’d been cradling Jean and you feel slightly vindicated. 

You’re sure he doesn’t even give a shit. He’s probably pouting in his room, wishing Jean was in bed beside him. 

What the fuck?

It’s all that’s been playing through Logan’s head since he returned from your room in the medbay. He’s waited days for you to wake up, so he can finally take a breath and let go of the anxiety that’s been plaguing him. 

He’d thought that he’d lost you in that forest. When he’d gone for Jean, he’d assumed you’d just be able to use your powers to knock the tree out of your path. Or make it melt around you. 

Honestly, he can’t put a finger on what exactly he was thinking. But he knew that you could protect yourself and that would be your priority. So he’d moved without really thinking and grabbed the person who would be collateral damage if your powers went haywire. 

And then you hadn’t saved yourself and all he could smell was your burning flesh. The smell has been stuck in his nose since you were brought back to the mansion. He can’t escape it. Everywhere he goes, he sees you burning and hears your screams. 

He’d thought that you were dead and there was a moment where he genuinely was so lost he could do nothing but watch as the others swarmed you. He couldn’t move, couldn’t help you. He could only stare at your still body and pray to anybody who could hear him that you weren’t dead. 

He didn’t know what he would do if he lost you before he ever got a chance to love you. 

He’d, irritatingly, imagined all the different ways he would finally tell you how he felt when you woke up. He’d prepared himself for every possible reaction, except this one. He hadn’t expected you to reject him before he ever got the chance to confess. 

Anger stews within him as he paces through his room. He knows that it’s unfair to be upset with you. You’d gone through something horrific and there had been doubts about your recovery. Of course, you’d act off. 

Except, you only seemed to be directing that at him. Had you been just as dismissive to Scott, the person who actually hurt you, he would have looked past it. He’s tempted to go back down and see you again, maybe try and make you see some sense. 

Instead, he decides to give you both some time to calm down. He doesn’t want to do anything he might regret while he’s pissed off. He’ll see you tomorrow and, hopefully, you’ll be back to normal. 

You’d thought Logan might have gotten the hint with how you behaved earlier. That was not the case. He’s back today and you can smell the breakfast food he’s brought you. The smell is wafting deliciously from an inconspicuous brown bag. 

But you know it’s from the restaurant that’s twenty minutes out of his way. You’re not petty enough that you can’t appreciate the forty-minute round trip he’d taken for you, but you still aren’t excited to see him. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiles at you despite your clearly hostile energy. He tugs the chair towards your bed, ripping open the bag and pulling out enough food for the both of you. 

You think it should be considered a form of manipulation to call you that while you’re pissed at him. He has such a clear effect on you. You know he’s aware of it. He knows that when he calls you something sweet like that it makes your heart race and stomach flip. 

You turn your gaze towards your blanket. You pretend the thread pattern is the most interesting thing in the world so you don’t have to look at him. You’re sick of giving your all to men who couldn’t care less about you. 

You’re tired of being the second, third, fourth choice. You want someone to choose you first for once. And you genuinely thought Logan would be the man to do that. But he’d chosen Jean. You should have known. 

“Alright,” he huffs, crossing his arms and glaring at you. You’re pissed off that he’s acting like he’s the one who was hurt. “What the hell is your problem? You’ve never been this mad at me before.”

It’s his tone of voice that really grates on you. He genuinely does not understand what he’s done wrong. He doesn’t even comprehend the possibility that you might be mad he left you to die. Have you really become such a doormat?

Yes, you’re shy and generally reserved with the people you meet. But he is so different. You two met and it was an instant connection that you thought was reciprocated. You hadn't realized that you'd become so complacent in the relationship he thought he could get away with something like this with no repercussions. 

“You left me to die,” you snap at him, voice taking a pitch it never has before. You’ve never truly gotten angry at him. Pissed off sometimes when he teased you a little too much. But you’d never plainly shown anger at him. “You fucking left me behind and expect me to, what,” you scoff and shove the food back towards him. 

“You think some shitty breakfast is going to fix this?” His face contorts. It screws up into something like hurt and you worry you might have been too harsh. He doesn’t know how you feel about him. He doesn’t know that this would hurt you so bad. 

But, it doesn’t matter. You’re still his friend. You should have at least warranted a little concern. 

Just as quickly as it appeared, the hurt is washed away by his own anger. “I thought you could take care of yourself. Isn’t that what you’re always bitching at us about?”

If you weren’t so upset you might find it funny how quickly the two of you turned on each other. Clearly, there was something repressed between the two of you. Some brewing resentment that neither of you had ever acknowledged. The words are coming quickly now, without thought.

“Fuck you, Logan,” you snap back at him. “You didn’t give a shit whether I lived or died. You only cared about your precious Jean.” You spit out her name with so much venom it stings as it leaves your tongue. 

He laughs, getting out of his chair. He shakes his head and glares at you. His anger is always a physical thing. You know he’s pacing so he doesn’t do something worse, like destroy the entirety of the room. 

“That’s what this is, you’re jealous? Don’t blame your fucking incompetence on me.” You hate the way he’s speaking to you. Like you’re a little girl who's incapable of understanding even the most basic of concepts. He has such a patronizing look on his face, you want nothing more than to wipe it off. 

The tables beside you tremble, the vases of flowers rattling against the wood. “I’m your friend, Logan. You could at least pretend like you cared about me.”

He leans against the end of the bed, tilting himself forward until he’s aggressively imposing your space. You shrink back against the pillows, narrowing your eyes in disdain. “Don’t fucking pull that shit with me. I knew that your priority would be to save yourself and I acted accordingly. This wasn’t some goddamn ploy to get into Jean’s pants. Grow the fuck up, Flux!”

You flinch back at the volume of his voice. Unwillingly, tears pool in the corners of your eyes. It’s an involuntary response. Sometimes you just get so enraged that you have no other way to get rid of it than to cry. It’s infuriating to see the moment someone stops taking you seriously and starts to think you’re nothing more than a crybaby. 

Logan’s face pales and he winces, backing away from you. “I didn’t-”

“Enough,” you stop him, voice thick with unshed tears. He never calls you by your X-men name, it’s an unspoken agreement between the two of you. That’s a formality reserved for the other members. To each other, you’re nothing more than two people who care deeply for one another. 

Or, you had been. Before this one moment had blown your life and your back up. 

“I appreciate how much faith you have in my abilities, but the fact that your first instinct wasn’t even to protect me says a lot.” You take in a deep breath and shake your head. “Thanks for the breakfast, but can you please just leave?”

He looks like he doesn’t want to. You know he doesn’t want to leave. You two never fight like this. Even if there wasn’t a lot said, it’s still not normal for you. Maybe that should have been your first hint that things weren’t what you thought. 

It’s healthy to fight, to a certain extent. Sometimes it's needed. You two never have before and you know it’s just been brewing for a while, waiting to blow up. “I-”

“Get out,” you shout, and the tables beside you finally crumble under the weight of your emotions. They drip to the ground in an inorganic form of liquid wood. “Shit,” you hiss, glancing over at them. You wave your hand and they return to their normal state, but it doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t have lost control at all. 

The door slams and you look up to find the room empty. You sink back against your bed and run your hands over your face. You ignore the way the skin of your back screams in protest. 

You embrace the pain, the fiery shocks running up your nerves as the bandages chafe against the wounds. You focus on that instead of how things have ended with Logan. You always had such high hopes that he might be the one you finally man up and confess to. 

You should have known you were wrong. You should have known that it would never have ended with him picking you over her. 

You’re permitted to leave the medbay the next day. You don’t see or hear from Logan for the following week. You can’t confirm if he’s purposefully avoiding you or not but you have to believe he is. You both live in the same hall. You don’t know how it’s possible to have gone this long without even catching a slight glimpse of him. 

You force yourself to suffocate the part of you that misses him. You picture the side of yourself that longs for his presence and imagine shoving a pillow over her face. You don’t want to ache and cry over someone who doesn’t give two shits about you. 

You keep reminding yourself over and over again that when things got rough he showed you his true colors. But it’s more difficult than you imagined to just completely disregard so much history with him. 

Besides, you hadn’t realized just how little you interacted with the others until Logan was out of your daily life. It’s so difficult for you to bond with people that when you’d connected with Logan you’d latched onto him. 

It’s a little pathetic, honestly. Being grown and eating lunch alone because you only had one friend. You wonder if your feelings for him were genuine or born from a desperation not to be alone. You don’t let yourself linger on the question for long. 

It’s as your training with the students that you finally see him again. 

“Has he made much progress yet?”

Jean shakes her head and purses her lips. She watches as Billy, one of the newer students, struggles with the logs in front of him. He was a firestarter, a very inexperienced one who had only ever set his curtains on fire. 

His powers were more focused on the mental aspect of things rather than the physical. Which is why you and Jean were in charge of helping him. He couldn’t start anything on his own, he only really seemed to be able to activate the ability when he was emotionally stimulated. 

That meant whenever he was mad or sad, or anything in between, everyone in a fifty-foot radius was in danger. He was a risk to the other students and you were both trying to be gentle with him. But you’d been working with him for so long and there was so little progress. It felt like he wasn’t trying sometimes. 

He’d asked Rogue out a week ago and when she’d said no, her hair had caught on fire. You know he could have been hurt and lashed out without thought or malice behind it. But you’d seen the look in his eye. 

You’re fifty percent sure he knows exactly what he’s doing. This little act he puts on is just to get himself out of trouble. You hadn’t brought the issue to Charles yet because you’re trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. 

“Billy,” you call out. His head whips up and he sends you a vicious glare. You can’t help the sneer on your lips. “Just take a deep breath and try again. There’s nothing wrong with struggling, we all did.”

You put on your normal teacher voice, calm and collected. Assuring. But the little shit in front of you isn’t buying it for a second. He gives you a sarcastic little grin, “Right. Sorry, I forgot you’re a fuck-up just like me.”

“Billy!” Jean snaps, taking a step forward to reprimand him. She doesn’t get far before there’s a fireball shooting out of his palms and hurtling towards the both of you. 

There’s no chance to react before something slams into your side and is tossing you to the ground. Your head nearly snaps against the grass but there’s a hand underneath your skull softening the blow. 

You smell something smoking and look up to see a large scorch mark right where you’d just been. Jean’s standing over it, palm outstretched as she keeps the fire subdued. She gives you a worried look, “Are you okay?”

Surprisingly, yes. You glance up to see Logan hovering over you. He backs off when he notices you’re okay, getting to his knees and offering you a hand. Wordlessly, you slip your palm into his and let him help you into a sitting position. 

“You alright,” his hand hovers over your shoulder like he wants to pull you closer. But he resists, backing off and waiting for your answer. You nod your head, still a little dazed from the failed assassination attempt. 

He narrows his eyes, searching your face for any sign of head trauma. When he’s properly assured you’re okay he jumps to his feet. “Billy!” His voice booms across the courtyard and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen that little asshole scared. 

He’s barely on his feet before Logan is stalking towards him, jerking him forward by the scruff of his neck and dragging him towards the mansion. “We need to have a little talk,” the tone of his voice has you a little scared and you’re not even the one he’s mad at. 

Jean walks towards you and helps you to your feet. “Is your back okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod and brush your clothes off. You have to physically shake the shock of what happened off. “Yeah, I’m fine. I can’t believe he did that.”

Jean scoffs and glares towards Billy’s back. Your eyes widen in shock when you see the large scorch mark across his arm. “Jean! He got you, are you okay?”

She glances down at her shirt and frowns. “Yeah, practically a sunburn.” She gives you a reassuring smile, “I’ll be fine.”

As shitty as this sounds, you’re not concerned for her. You can only focus on the fact that she was in just as much danger as you and Logan had tackled you to the ground. You glance back towards the mansion, more fucking confused than ever. 

You’re not sure what compels you to follow Logan, but you’re running after him before Jean can stop you. He’s barely got a minute headstart on you, you’re not sure why you can’t find him. You’d gone through every inch of the first floor. 

You don’t know where he would have dragged Billy, but it’s nowhere you can find. After about ten minutes of looking for him, you give up on the hope that you’re ever going to figure out what’s happening inside his brain. 

You let out a defeated sigh, running a hand over your face and trying to shake off the funk of the day. You can’t believe that little shit tried to roast you. You’re not comfortable with the fact that he’s just roaming around inside the mansion somewhere. 

You turn out of the living room and nearly slam into someone. His hands shoot out, grabbing your shoulders and gently stopping you. “Logan,” you give him a strained smile. “I was looking for you.” You glance over his shoulder and frown. “Where’s Billy?”

Logan sighs, his hands linger on your arms for a moment before he takes a step back. “Wheels got to him before I could do anything.”

You laugh a little, the noise involuntary. “What were you planning on doing with the sixteen-year-old?”

He doesn’t find the question amusing if his expression is anything to go by. “He was really trying to hurt you.”

His words sober you up slightly and you drop the flippant attitude. “Yeah, I wanted to,” god, it feels like you could choke on the words. Just last week you were screaming at him for not helping you. Now, you could barely thank him because he had. 

“You’re always my priority.” He tells you before you can struggle any longer. Your head shoots up and you stare at him with confusion. He groans, the noise tired and resigned. “Saving Jean was a mistake. I mean it, kid, I just thought you could handle yourself.”

You open your mouth but he stops you before you can argue. “I know, that’s not the point. I should have saved you, no matter what I thought you could or couldn't handle.”

“No,” you stop him and shake your head. “No, Logan, I shouldn’t. I,” your mouth opens and he stares at you expectantly. What you were going to say gets stuck in your throat. This is a horrible idea. 

“I liked you in a way you didn’t like me and it was unfair of me to push my expectations onto you.” You wanted it to sound better, and more intelligent. Instead, it came out in one rushed breath and you’re not sure he even understood half of what you said. 

His brows furrow in confusion for a moment before a smile breaks out on his face. You’re not sure if it’s a good or bad thing that he’s smiling. You can’t tell if he’s mocking you or about to profess his undying love. 

You don’t have to wonder for long. He moves closer towards you, leaning forward until you’re practically sharing the same breaths. Unconsciously, you’re drawn into him, hands braced gently on his chest as you chase after him. 

“What are you doing?” Your whispered words brush against his lips and he gives you a small smile. His hands travel up your waist. He tugs you closer, his other hand looping around your neck and craning you up. 

“I’m gonna choose you every fucking time, kid.” His lips brush across your own and it’s like a switch is flipped in you both. Your arms twine around his neck, pulling him down until you’re practically melting into him. 

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and so different at the same time. You always thought your first kiss would be after some cheesy first date. He would have taken you out to dinner. Something would have inevitably gone wrong, you spilled something on your dress or the waiter brought the wrong order. 

You would both worry that it was a sign that nothing would work out between you. And then, at the end of the night, he’d tug you into his arms and kiss you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever held. 

That would be nice, but this is better. He’s not holding you like you’re something fragile or something too precious for this world. He’s kissing you like you’re the very air he needs to survive. He’s greedy with his affections and demanding with his wants. 

You’re being consumed and devoured. And you never want to stop. This is all you’ve ever wanted with him, from him. 

Sadly, you do have to breathe. You’re the one that forces the stop, you’re sure he would have happily suffocated if it meant he could keep touching you like this. You pull back, the air coming in short pants between your parted lips. 

You can already feel them swelling, the slight irritation on your cheeks from his stubble. You don’t mind, you quite like the feeling. He speaks before you can, a pleased smile on his face. “Forgive me yet?”

You chuckle, a little impressed by how cheeky he is, still slightly pissed off. “Why don’t you do that again and I’ll think about it?”

He rolls his eyes but you can see the smile fighting against his firm glare. “You’re really gonna make me work for it, huh?”

You smile and nod, leaning into him again. “You’re never gonna hear the end of it,” you whisper before dipping down and kissing him again. You can’t believe you ever doubted just how much he cares for you. 

He didn’t choose Jean over you. He’s just a dumbass. 

a/n: I had to resist putting in a “pick me, choose me, love me” line in there bc that would have just been too much lol

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

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Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  

@mrs-ephemeral  @wolviesgirl ♡ 

[jov1ii]

Sleepy Mornings

♡⃕.pairing: Husband!Salesman x Wife!Reader

♡⃕summary: a sleepy morning with your husband.

♡⃕.a/n: am I the only one who thinks he would be a super sweet husband?😭

The marriage you had with him was not one you had originally wanted for yourself. You always wanted something... slow. You always imagined yourself to marry your high-school sweetheart but when your father arranged a marriage with him, could you really deny it? For love bloomed from even the thorniest of gardens.

He was away most of the time— doing whatever he did to earn a living. But that did not mean that he was one who shyed away when it came to showing you the affection you deserved.

He would slip under the duvet whenever he'd find you alone, lying on his bed. Then he would plant gentle kisses on your shoulder, knowing that you weren't sleeping.

Even though the marriage was arranged, falling in love was inevitable.

He never wanted to feel emotions, but there he was, burying his face in your neck.

As the morning sun streamed through the windows, you found yourself enveloped in the warmth and comfort of his embrace. His strong arms held you close, and the steady rhythm of his breathing against your skin created a soothing lull.

"Don't move." He grunted, his chest pressed against your back, his lips caressing the crook of your neck.

"You're not going to work today?" You ask and his grip around you tightened.

He nuzzles his nose into your neck, closing his eyes. "No." He murmurs, his voice hoarse due to sleep. He holds you closer to his body, not ready to let you go.

He loved your skin. The way it felt under his fingertips, when he held your hand, caressing your fingers, or when you moved underneath him.

His nose was buried in your neck, a place that smelled like you, that smelled like home.

As you tried to get up again, he protested again. A low grumble leaves his lips, a rumble that sounds almost like a growl. "I told you to not move." He says.

"And why is that?" You ask, smiling to yourself. Your hand finds its way to his much larger ones, covering them.

"Because I want to have a morning in bed with my wife." He murmurs, his breath brushing against your skin.

He hated to admit it, but he needed you — and he didn't want to be away from you.

He loved your curves, the way your body arched under his touch whenever you were beneath him, how your body felt against his.

He kisses your shoulder, your neck, and a shiver shoots down your spine, making your heart skip a beat.

He buries his face into the crook of your neck once more, inhaling your scent deeply. He loves that smell. Your smell.

You smiled, giving in to his pleading. You knew you wouldn't be able to leave with him practically glued to you.

You turned your face so that you could look at him. He was pouting as usual, looking so damn adorable that you wanted to kiss the pout away.

"Don't smile at me like that." The man muttered, as if reading your mind.

He held you tightly against his chest, as if worried you might slip away if he loosened his grip even a little.

His eyes were still closed, but you could feel his fingers tracing patterns lazily on your skin.

And just like that, you knew that he had no intention of letting you go anytime soon.

[gojoscloset]

NSFW but the boys cumming prematurely simply by kissing has been on my mind heavy lately like—

I know I need to stop but I can’t stop thinking about getting hot and heavy with them and apparently it gets too hot too fast and they’re so embarrassed but you’re chill about it you actually find it hot endearing.

Satoru whose body stiffened as he pulled his lips away from yours. You could feel his body slightly shake and twitch beneath you, and he's looking at you with a sheepish expression, widened eyes and his lips slowly curled into an embarrassed grin. He makes jokes of the situation to ease his embarrassment and he explains how it wouldn’t affect his performance, confidence wavering in the slightest but you simply laugh at his jokes and assure him that it was okay and you actually found it cute.

Ooof or how Suguru is probably the one who is most embarrassed, pushing his body off of yours interrupting the steamy make out session. You wondered if you did something wrong but you knew that wasn’t the case when you looked at his expression. Head hung low and you both watched as the bulge in his sweats twitched, staining the gray with milky white drops that pushed past the fabrics. He facepalmed to cover his reddening face and apologized profusely. You didn’t mean to laugh but you did, giggles escaping your lips and you cupped his face that was hot to the touch, to let him know it was nothing to be embarrassed about.

Or Nanami who groaned into your lips, roughly grabbing your hips to stop from grinding on his. He looked down and you followed suit, eyeing how his legs flexed while his dick twitched some, a growing wet spot now visible on his slacks. He looked up at you, panting and speechless, confused expression on his face because this has never happened to him and he didn’t even know it was possible. He opened his mouth to say something but didn’t know what to say. You gave him a smile and guided your hips back on his, you didn’t need an explanation, you just needed him.

Gosh I’m a slut for tropes like these. Like yes love me love me love me love me.