#i think he should bite everyone he wants to bite

[cicerfics]

Oh my god???

Okay, yes. I love irascible-and-bitchy!Q. I love snotty-and-impatient!Q. I love Q being kind of a cunt sometimes.

And I love it MOST when Q is really, really impatient and easily frustrated when he has to Do A Bureaucracy. Or Do A Diplomacy. Or Do A Politics.

Because I don't think he is naturally skilled at ANY of those things, and I think he's screaming internally the whole time when he has to fill out and submit forms in hardcopy (in triplicate) so an admin assistant can retype all of that information back into the computer system.

I think he wants to throw a hand grenade into the middle of the room whenever he's at a committee hearing and some geriatric politician is like, 'So, I don't know even known how to open this file my granddaughter emailed me, but nevertheless: please justify to me why your department needs money for this 'cybersecurity' frippery. 🧐'

I think he wants to leave the room and go have a cigarette every time MI6 is trying to liaise with the CIA or the DGES in order to save human lives and the whole business inevitably turns into yet another dick-measuring contest between intelligence agencies.

So, yes. I think sometimes, Q comes back to his department after a four-hour meeting, and he's like, 'What if I just start biting people?'

And R is like, 'Q, no.'

And Q is like, 'Q, YES.'

And I think it's very difficult for Bond, because he is largely in favor of Q Biting People. He thinks this is very fun and entertaining to watch and also Q deserves it!

But also, if Q starts biting people (especially Important Politicians) then he will likely be arrested and stripped of his position and his security clearance and forced to 'resign on medical/psychiatric grounds'. Which is no good.

So, alas, Bond has to persuade Q Not To Bite.

...He probably compromises by collaborating with Q in order to Subtly Torment The Offenders in some other way that cannot be traced back to Bond and/or Q.

But that still counts as Not Biting, so Bond thinks he's doing a really great job of Q-wrangling overall!!

sometimes it's not even enemies to lovers. sometimes you get handed the leash of a snarling, barking dog against your will and realize with dawning horror that you are now responsible for teaching it not to bite

[shouyuus]

Yeahhhhhh I'm gonna need the mutual cockblocking with Vi, yup.

based off of this ask. PHEW alright so uh, bullet points today bc /pops open another bottle of champagne/ it's that kind of day:

is it rly called bullying if u and vi r bullying each other and ur both like... into it? (neither of u are being subtle, everyone can see the yearning and they're all either super invested in when ur gonna hook up or tired AF of ur shit)

pitfighter!vi who glares at anyone who tries to chat you up at the bar that you frequent after all her fights (u volunteer at the dingy little clinic two doors down from the fighting ring and she thinks ur too naive for the mouth you've got on you -- and you do have a mouth on you dear sweet god), pays the bartender extra to keep an eye on you and double dose whoever is trying to chat you up that night bc hell be damned if vi'll see you leave with any of these weird fuckers

loris is so over vi's tantrums whenever you push yourself between her and someone she's sweet-talking; he knows that vi's just doing it bc she knows that the moment you see her reach out to push the hair of out of another girl's face, you'll be shimmying your way over and wiggling between them, pressing your tits up against the bar, snagging the drink that vi was gonna offer her potential hookup (and yeah, what if vi ordered a drink she knew you'd like better? huh? that's got nothing to do with anything)

"why don't you just take her home?". vi squinting at loris in the dimness of the alley behind the bar, "wh-what? i don't want that -- that conniving little... rabbit -- i like someone who's a bit more bite -- or... whatever." loris hitches an eyebrow, watching vi with a deadpanned look before sighing, "yeah. whatever you say."

whenever your friends ask you why on earth you're so hell bent on keeping vi from hooking up with a rando, you'd frown and huff and "you should see the way she comes into the clinic every other day -- i'm -- i'm doing a public service! she's gonna ruin whoever she gets her hands on and -- and i've gotta watch out for the sisterhood, yknow?" cue all ur friends rolling their eyes, "uh-huh. yeah. right."

the one night that vi manages to get someone halfway to the door, you catch them right before vi manages to lead the girl out into the street, draping yourself across vi's back, giggling as you loop your arms around her neck, "vi! i was looking for you everywhere -- you promised we could hang out after your fight tonight -- did you forget again?" you purposefully stumble into the girl she's with, knocking their hands apart. vi grimaces, narrowing her eyes as she rounds on you, intent on telling you off when she catches sight of what you're wearing -- a black leather skirt that barely kisses the tops of your thighs and a tiny little red croptop that leaves nothing to the imagination, dark fishnets criss-crossing up your legs (her mouth waters at the thought of ripping them apart to bury her fingers in your cunt) --

"uhm... friend of yours?" her would-be date asks, clearly a bit put-off as she looks you over. you pull your face into a girlish pout, batting your lashes at vi, "aw... are you doing this to get back at me for the other night? i said was sorry -- would you feel better if i let you eat me out in the back alley again --"

at that point, the girl vi's with pulls away and vi barely tries to get her back before rounding on you. the dopey grin slides off your face and your eyes glitter like shards of broken glass as vi growls at you, yanking you behind her till you're both in the dim alleyway behind the bar, the thick metal door slamming shut behind you

"what the fuck is your problem?!" she asks. you roll your eyes, scoffing, "whatever the fuck is yours. i've told you that you're supposed to be resting, and you never listen --" "i come to you so you can stitch up my face not so you can give me life advice --" "well i won't have to much of your face to stitch up if you keep on going like this cause you're gonna get yourself killed!" "why the fuck do you care?!" "cause it's my job!"

vi groans, jerking away from you to kick at an already toppled over trashcan, the metallic clank of it ringing through the narrow street

"you don't get paid to cockblock me at the fucking bar --" "and you don't get paid to spend all your winnings bribing the bartender into double-dosing all my potential dates!" vi whirls around then, eyes wide, "i -- i don't know what the hell you're --" you let out a wild shriek of laughter, "oh please! you're not subtle -- and you don't think pete and i have known each other for way longer than he's known you?"

vi huffs, folding her arms defensively over chest, glaring down the alley at the thing strip of light cresting in from the street out front, "that's -- those people -- they're not good for you. they'd --" she swallows hard, "they'd hurt you -- chew you up and spit you back out and --"

you cock your eyebrows, "you don't think i know that? i am from the lanes too, yknow."

vi scowls, "then you should start acting like it."

"what?" "nothing." "no, seriously -- what is it with you?" "nothing! god fuckin' -- forget it -- i'll find another bar to --" "violet."

her eyes jerk up, "how -- who -- how'dyou know my name?"

you sigh, rolling your eyes, "your friend? loris? he told me after the first time you punched a guy for trying to talk to me. you're probably too drunk to remember but --" vi shakes her head, "no i -- i do -- that guy was an ass -- i knew him from back when i used to run jobs for -- well, doesn't matter much now but --"

"i can look after myself, violet," you say. vi scoffs before she can stop herself, "yeah. okay." you sigh, leaning back against the bar's back door, "or are you just so caught up in needing something to protect that you don't see it?"

vi very nearly flinches. "what?"

you purse your lips, "i said what i said." "yeah well, say it again." she closes the space between you both in a few quick strides, crowding into your space, slamming a palm against the door next to your face. to your credit, you don't even blink.

there's a flicker of something behind your eyes that licks fire along the length of vi's spine; "i said -- you should find some other little puppet to work out your problems on because i'm done --"

she's kissing you before you can finish your sentence, and there's nothing caring or gentle about the way she bullies her tongue into your mouth and licks along the backsides of your teeth, nothing kind or caring about the way she yanks you forward by the back of your neck till you're sure you'll be able to feel the ghosts of her fingers against your skin for days and days to come

you moan into her, biting down hard on her bottom lip, grinning when the harsh, metallic tang of blood seeps across your tongue. when she pulls back, you're both panting, and you've never seen her eyes so dark, so hungry and crowded with sharp, thunderheads of lust

"mm, that's one way to shut you up," vi muses, running a thumb along the line of your jaw. you grin, a slanted, fox-sly thing. "admit it, you've been wanting to do that for ages."

vi's lips curl; she leans in close enough for you to taste the cheap whiskey on her breath as she says, "sure, and so have you."

[starlemons]

Coffee and Crime ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ PART SEVEN

Pairing ✦ mafia!bucky x reader

Word Count ✦ 1.8K

Warnings ✦ overall story has a 18+ content warning, MDNI, cussing, weapon caused injury resulting in a fake death, spicy thoughts, nightmares

A/N ✦ Here's part seven!!! <3 Thanks for your support y'all :)

PART SIX »»» Series Masterlist

You nearly spat out your hot chocolate, poorly timing a sip with Bucky’s declaration. 

“Uh what?”, you said looking at him, jaw slacked.

He breathed deeply, “I am the head of a mafia family.”

Part of you wanted to burst into laughter and part of you was scared of the possibility of him not joking around. Bucky stared into your eyes so intensely, searching them for a sign of how you currently felt, and you immediately knew he was being sincere.

“How–I don’t understand, I didn’t even think that was a thing anymore, like some 1940’s only type of thing.”

Bucky almost chuckled at you, finding himself glad that you hadn’t immediately run in fear of him. 

“We just have gotten better at hiding, staying out of the public eye.”, he shrugged.

“So Steve, Tony, Bruce they’re–”

“All also a part of the mafia, yes.”

You balked at him. Part of you finding this extremely hot, like one of your romance novels come to life, and part of you knew that hanging out with such a high ranking mafia member was probably a very, very bad idea, adding in the fact you hadn’t even made it through your first date without being shot at. 

You nodded at him, thinking some more.

Bucky felt like he was going to throw up as he watched your brain sort through your thoughts, trying to figure out the appropriate action to take. 

“Uh ...Okay.”, you started, “I mean it’s not necessarily a dealbreaker I guess, but I do have a few questions.”

He lit up like a match, “Of course.”

You quizzed him, asking about the business ventures he was involved in, owning clubs, a casino, and a few strip joints. You were relieved he wasn’t selling drugs to make his money. Bucky answered all your questions quickly and truthfully. Admitting that yes earlier the people who shot at you were a rival mafia family, the Pierces, who were controlled by a man and his adoptive son.

After asking him varying questions for over an hour, you realized how low the temperature had dropped and had a strong desire to go back inside to avoid the bite of the autumn wind. 

He noticed that you were beginning to shiver, softly smiling, he stood. 

“Let’s get you inside, you look like you're about to freeze.”

Nodding you reached for his arm, looping yours through his elbow, pulling his warm body closer to yours for the walk back to the house. Bucky’s heart swelled.

Once you guys were back inside, Bucky walked you to the couch, taking your empty mug, and throwing a few blankets over your shivering form.

“Thank you.”, you murmured.

“Anytime sweetheart.”

He turned and walked to the kitchen to rinse the mugs, returning a few minutes later. 

“Where’d everyone else go?”, you asked, realizing none of the other men were in the house anymore.

“They went to their homes, they’re not far, we all live on the same property, just not the same houses.”

“Oh okay.”

Bucky picked up a remote, pressing on. The large TV hanging on the wall illuminated the room. He switched off the lights, plopped next to you on the couch, and propped his feet up on the ottoman. 

He extended the remote towards you, “Here, you pick what we watch.”

You smiled at him, immediately knowing what show you wanted to watch. 

Over an hour had passed and the two of you were enticed by your show, Bucky finding himself surprised he was getting drawn into a season of The Real Housewives series. Throughout the episodes you both slowly inched towards one another, currently finding yourselves shoulder to shoulder. As the housewives got into a screaming match you found yourself yawning, eyes feeling heavy. 

You realized that it was extremely late and that you should probably head home. As if he read your mind, he spoke to you.

“Y/N, would you want to stay for the night?”

“Like in your bed?”, you asked, eyes wide.

Bucky did enjoy the thought of you in his bed very much, but he shook the thought from his head. You were so pure and innocent to him and so in respect he offered one of his guest rooms to you. 

After dropping you off at your room, which was almost as massive as Buckys, just with a smaller closet and bathroom, he bid you goodnight and left towards his room. 

You shut the door behind you and turned to walk to the bed. It was a full sized bed, a large lavender comforter covered the matching sheets, a large pile of pillows with silk pillowcases engulfed the bed, and a gray fluffy blanket was folded at the end of the furniture. There were two dark gray nightstands on either side of the bed, one decorated with a simple lamp and the other with a small digital clock, a box of kleenex, and the remote to the TV.

You flopped on the bed and immediately crawled under the covers, you reached for the remote to the TV, flipping it on. Selecting a random show you found yourself quickly falling asleep, your mind filled with nothing but Bucky.

The man in question however was finding it very difficult to sleep right now. He stared up at his ceiling, trying to stop thinking of you, but he couldn’t. You were beautiful, kind, and easy going, he adored you already. Bucky thought about how innocent you were compared to him. To him you were small, fragile, and needed to be protected at all costs, which is exactly why his brain was struggling right now. 

You were better than he would ever be, he didn’t deserve you, he feared he would ruin you by exposing you to his world at all. Yet, Bucky felt like being selfish, never having feelings like this towards the past women in his life, those women however were just hookups, never anything serious. With you he was very serious.

His mind flashed to earlier on the couch, when you guys were shoulder to shoulder, you were so engrossed in the show you hadn’t noticed him watching you. He adored the smile that adorned your face, the desire to kiss you had been overwhelming, but he had already scared you enough for one night and wasn’t about to bombard you with a kiss out of nowhere. 

Bucky’s need to kiss you consumed him as he lay in his bed. He imagined your lips would be pillow soft, how he would wrap his arms around you, and then his mind began to drift. He started wondering how soft your skin was, how it would feel against his hands and mouth, how you would react to his touches. 

Shaking his head, he rolled over and tried to push the R rated thoughts he was having about you out of his mind. However he began to imagine how small you would look beneath his massive body. 

“Shit, I’ve got to cool off.”, he said as he flung off his covers, walking towards the shower, hoping that a cold shower would wash the sinful thoughts of you out of his head. 

Down the hallway you tossed and turned in your bed, a nightmare overtaking your peaceful rest. In your very vivid dream you and Bucky were back in the car, fleeing from the shooters, however this time instead of Bucky getting shot in the shoulder you watched as the bullet passed through the driver's seat and through his chest. The car veered off the road, crashing into the ditch. You reached for Bucky, shaking him and screaming as his form slumped over, his pulse diminishing. 

Suddenly a figure appeared in your window, a weapon pointed at your face. The shadow pulled the trigger, the glass shattering. Before you knew it you were sitting upright in bed, screaming at the top of your lungs. 

Bucky's stomach dropped as he heard your yell of terror. He didn’t even bother turning off the shower, quickly grabbing a towel, and rushing down the hall towards you. Throwing open your door he looked around the room, trying to assess any danger. After not seeing any threats his eyes turned to you, shaking in bed, tears pouring down your face. 

“Sweetheart?”, Bucky spoke softly, inquisitive as to what was wrong. 

“Bad dream.”, you choked out.

You felt so silly, having cried in front of the man in front of you twice already in one night. Taking him in you realized he was wearing only a towel, droplets of water trickled down, lower and lower. You quickly snapped your eyes back to his, a blush forming on your face. If he noticed your gawking he didn’t acknowledge it, too focused on your wellbeing. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You contemplated if you wanted to tell him, you decided that yes you did, and nodded your head. He slowly approached you, squatting down beside the bed, reaching for your hand and squeezing it. You relayed your dream to him, he nodded along listening intently. Tears began to burn your eyes again as you spoke.

“Shhh”, he cooed at you, “You’re okay, it was just a dream. See I’m here and I’m okay, you’re okay.”

He softly stroked the back of your hand with his thumb, the other reaching up to brush away your tears. 

“Come on.”, he tugged on you lightly, trying to get you to leave the bed and follow after him.

You rose from the sheets, walking with him back to his room. 

“I’m going to finish my shower, you can sleep in my bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.”, he said stepping into his bedroom, jutting a thumb towards the small couch.

He went to pull away from you, but you clamped your fingers around his hand. His eyes widened as he turned back to you.

“Can you sleep with me?”, you whispered out, nerves wracking you.

Heat washed over Bucky, knowing you meant that you wanted him to sleep in his bed with you, not that you wanted to fuck him, but your innocent request came across as anything other than. 

You realized that slightly after the words left your mouth. 

“Not–Not like in that way—But–I–”, you stumbled.

Bucky chuckled, “Y/N, I know what you meant sweetheart. Go jump in bed, I’ll come join you once I’m out of the shower.”

You shyly smiled lightly murmuring an okay back to him. Climbing under the covers you nestled into the soft sheets. Bucky made his way back into the bathroom, not fully shutting the door as he entered, a slight beam of light peeking through the crack. You realized that he had in fact done that so you wouldn’t be drenched in darkness. 

Your eyelids felt like lead balloons, slowly closing, sending you back into a peaceful sleep. Several minutes later Bucky emerged from the bathroom, he had redressed in a pair of shorts and a soft t-shirt. 

Smiling, he climbed into the bed next to you and whispered, “Goodnight sweetheart.”

He swore he saw your lips curl into a smile.

PART EIGHT

TAGLIST IS OPEN!! LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT ADDED!

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[readerstories]

When You Touch Me - Wolverine x male reader x Deadpool 9/?

Hello, hello! Real life has been busy, but finally I've been able to sit down and write! *Edit: added some more details and dialogue. (AO3) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8)

Warnings/tags: male reader, canon-typical violence, enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn

Wordcount: 3256

Summary: You’ve heard many stories about how people met their soulmates. Everyone crazier than the last, ranging from typical meet cutes, meeting with one of them at death's door, in war, meeting at your soulmate's wedding to another, and everything in between and outside of that. You had just never expected to add yours to the crazy list, meeting yours in a fight, only realizing after trying to kill each other for at least half an hour. And you certainly don’t expect to have another.

It's been three weeks since you saw Wade or Logan.

Which you are happy about.

But your body definitely isn’t.

Your joints are aching constantly. Some days it feels like you’ve been thrown into a wall multiple times, oddly not breaking or bruising nothing, but leaving you sore and hurting like a bitch. 

There are also the headaches (something that edges close to a migraine at some points) that have no apparent reason behind them, that leave you grumpy and in a foul mood.

Well, there’s no apparent reason that you want to think about.

You only throw in the towel the day after a particular bad headache that had actually turned into a full migraine.

You had spent all day curled up in bed, for once not happy about the big windows in your apartment. You had thought about curling up in the bathroom with the lights off and heated floor on, but there was no way that would have been comfortable with your aching body. The heat might have been nice, but not the hard tile.

So, you bite the bullet, and go to their apartment. No matter that you’ve only been there once, finding your way there is easy.

You are tempted to drive there, but with your aching body and head you don’t trust yourself behind the wheel or handlebars. 

So the subway and walking it is. That’s not pleasant either, but at least you are not a threat to others. And it’s not like you can teleport. You only stumble once on the way, muttering an apology to the guy you bump into. He sends you a nasty look, but it turns less harsh as he takes in your state, and he mutters a “don’t worry about it” back. 

You hadn’t looked too closely in the mirror that morning, but with the way you are feeling, there’s no way you look your best.

It takes you a good amount of time, but you finally knock at their front door, trying not to sway on your feet. They really should look into doing something with the main entrance to the building, you had managed to slip inside again even in your state. There’s some shuffling behind the door, a muffled “coming” barely reaching your ears. 

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever reaction you are about to get.

Wade, wearing black sweatpants and a pink hello kitty t-shirt, opens the door, freezing with his mouth open as if he was about to say something. His control on the bond to you slips for a moment, you feel the utter confusion before it goes back to its muted state. You snort out a laugh, trying not to wince when that of course, with your luck, pulls on something that hurts; you’re not even sure what.

“Can I come in?”

“You are not our Chinese food.” You expect some sort of joke to follow, but there’s none, just Wade looking you up and down, “You look like shit pookie.” Is what you get instead, making you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, I am fucking aware. Which is why I am here.” It should be annoying how you can fucking feel your shoulders lighten as you stand there, just looking at each other, but all you can feel is relief. 

You swallow, throat dry. “So, can I come in?”

“Um, yeah, sure.” Wade opens the door wider, stepping to the side to let you in. You slowly do so, looking around. You have already been here, but it has been about two months. 

The door clicks shut behind you. Wade doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his eyes on your back as you look over the place.

There’s a couch, a few lounge chairs, a tv. There’s also of course the dining room table that you got stitched up on, chairs surrounding it, several of them having clothes thrown over the backrest. It’s a little messy, but looks mostly clean, except for some weird stains on the floor you do your best to avoid as you step just a little closer to the lounge chairs and couch. You are tempted to sit down, but stop as Logan appears from somewhere further in the apartment. He’s wearing a grey flannel and jeans, looking down at his feet as he walks, chastising the ugly as sin dog as it runs around his legs, but as he looks up, he freezes mid-step.

“Was about to yell that we got company, peanut.” Wade says quietly, calm behind your back as you and Logan stare at each other.

“Uh, yeah, I can see that.” A beat of silence where no one says anything. 

Then the dog, Mary-something or other, (you think), barks loudly, once, before running over to you. You look down at her as she stands on her hind legs, pawing at your pants. That seems to break Wade out of whatever state he was frozen in, as he scoops her up, and starts talking. 

“Good to know we weren't the only ones hurting, for a bit there we almost thought this was some very elaborate prank, or a super shitty version of one. Like Punked, just with writing instead of TV cameras. You held out for a long time, and you didn’t even have another soulmate to lean on. Or, oh! Foursome? Or fourway if you wanna be clean about it.” You lick your lips, taking a deep breath, unsure of what to feel. You want to be annoyed, but there’s no annoyance to be found.

“No.”

“Good to know! Now I’m imagining a fourth though, fun to think about! Who though? Cable? Colossus? Buck? Well, I’ve touched all of them before and got nothing, so unlikely. Who do you think the author would throw in? Maybe Spidey? Andrew Garfield version, hopefully. His hair is almost as great as peanut’s.” You glance over at Logan, tuning out Wade for a moment. There’s a barely there frown on his face as he looks you up and down, taking in the state of you. He looks a lot better than you, normal even, and so does Wade.

“-hurting too. Well, for me more than usual. Wait, does this mean cuddle sessions on the couch?” Wade lets out an excited gasp, and for a moment your mind zeros in on the “more than usual” comment, but Wade just keeps going. “Omg, I’m already imagining it, the greatest cuddle pile to ever exist in this universe! Soft blankets, TV going, some scented candles to really set the mood.” He winks, you scowl. 

You take a few more steps so you can plop down on a lounge chair with a groan, leaning back with your legs spread, hands in your own hair, and close your eyes. There’s a spike of something through your bond that’s gone too quick for you to recognise, but you pay it no mind as you massage your scalp. You are not sure if it’s helping, or if it’s the effects of your body finally being in the same room as your soulmates. All you care about is that your persistent headache is slowly fading, your head hurting less by the second.

“You know, touching not from just yourself would also help.” You swear you hear a wink in Wade’s voice; you are sure if your eyes were open you would have seen it.

“Touch me and I will cut your fingers off.”

“Are you even armed?” Footsteps next to you, and then you get a few pokes by a single finger on the side of your thigh before it connects with a hidden knife sheath.

“What are you doing?” Logan asks from behind you.

“Checking if he’s actually armed, I didn't think putting my hand down his pants would have gone well.” You hum, you should make good on your threat, but find that you can’t be bothered right now, too relieved by the tension in your body easing by the second.

“Would have been your whole arm instead. The close proximity should be enough to make me feel and look less like shit.” You rub your temple, opening your eyes to glance up at Wade who is still standing close, while Logan makes his way over to the couch.

“And what if it isn’t?” Logan asks as he sits down, tilting his head to the side as he takes you in. You roll your shoulders, noting to yourself how they already feel looser, more relaxed, even if it’s only been minutes.

Fucking soulmates.

“We’ll jump off that bridge if we get to it.” Wade laughs, but no one gets to say anything else before they are stopped by the doorbell. This turns out to be the earlier mentioned chinese food. You close your eyes when the smell of it makes your nausea return. You dig your hands into the armrest of the lounge chair.

“Well, we weren’t planning on a dinner guest, but we always order enough food for half an army, since we gotta stay big strong boys, so if you want some there’s plenty to go around. And I’m not just talking about food.” Yet another wink you can hear. You shake your head.

“I’ll hurl, so no thanks.” 

“Hurtful pookie.”

“The food dumbass.” You bring the sleeve of your jacket up to your nose, breathing in the familiar scent of your laundry detergent to focus on something else. You get a few breaths in before there’s a weight in your lap, making you open your eyes and look down. The round eyes of Mary look up at you, her tongue hanging out of her mouth.

“Awwww, she must really like you. She’ll normally beg for food even though she knows she can’t have any. Even if she’s technically indestructible, she will get an upset stomach and shit everywhere if she eats some human foods.” You blink at Wade, who has taken a seat next to Logan and spread out a frankly ridiculous amount of food on the living room table. 

“Indestructible?” Your voice comes out a little muffled from behind your sleeve, but Wade seems to understand you just fine, grinning.

“Ohhh, is it exposition time?” Apparently answering his own question, Wade launches into the story of how they met, how they got Mary Puppins, and apparently saved the universe.

The story is told with a lot of words and gestures, mostly by Wade, though Logan fills in bits and pieces here and there, and sometimes protests when there’s part where Wade is apparently “painting a fucking rosy picture with a lot less guts”.

As Wade talks the nausea slowly dissolves, so you move from holding your sleeve in front of your nose to petting Mary. She doesn’t have much fur, and is still ugly as sin, but she is already growing on you in a weird way. You can see why Wade instantly fell in love, but also why Logan didn’t, at least according to the story Wade tells. 

“-and that’s how this hunk of a man came to live with me and Al.” Wade lets you digest all that they have told as he takes a few big bites of the now cold noodles in front of him. Logan takes a sip of his beer that he had gotten at some point, eyes flicking between you and Wade.

It’s an insane story, and you’re not sure how much of it you believe, but there’s a part that’s missing.

“When did you touch each other?”

“Oh, multiple times. Want me to tell the Honda part all over again? I assure you, it was just as juicy and could have been a lot juicer if Di-”

“No, I mean, when did you realize you were soulmates?”

“Oh! When we got back to this place, and I handed Logan some spare clothes that he could shower.” You tilt your head, then you realise why it happened that late.

“Oh, gloves.”

“Yup! All that touching and handholding, and it was all with gloves. Though his disintegrated alongside his shirt with the ripper, showing off that glorious hairy and sweaty chest and abs, I was still wearing mine. No-one wanted that freak-show.” Logan elbows Wade as your mind goes elsewhere for a moment. You can’t help it, you imagine it for a fleeting second, glancing over Wade and Logan, the latter of whom tilts his head just the teeniest bit to the side. “I didn’t take my gloves off until the safety of home, so we had a nice bonding time in the shitty bathroom. Freaked out Mr. Growly over here, he doesn’t have soulmates in his universe.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“I think I want to live in your universe.” Logan scoffs, taking a drink of his beer.

“Trust me, you don’t.”

“Wait, if you don’t have soulmates, how….?”

“We figured it must have been all that sexy hand holding, our particles getting mixed by the time ripper, and Madonna.”

“What does Mad- You know what, doesn’t matter.” Your shoulders are high, trying to tense, but being closer to your soulmates Wade and Logan are making them more relaxed. It’s an odd combo, making it feel like your shoulders are slowly rolling up and down.

“So you got the kitten claws and kitten ears in your hair, and you got super healing with a side of skin disease.”

“Hardy har, don’t bully me I’ll cum. But something like that, just with a much deeper and so, so tragic backstory. But there has been enough exposition for today, don't you think?”

“Sure, right, whatever. So the two of you saved the fucking universe and got each other in the process, fucking fabulous.” You scrub your hands over your face, before combing through your hair a few times. “Where in the fuck do I fit in in this mess.” You mostly mumble it to yourself, trying to make sense of it all.

“I don’t know, but if you let us, we could figure it out together. Like some weird sort of buddy cop movie, but in an ACAB way.” You snort behind your hands, not being able to help yourself. Wade’s humor has already grown on you.

“Come on, what you’re doing now is just making it fucking worse for yourself, even if you don’t like it.” Logan supplies.

“Yeah no shit, I feel the same way I look.”

“Hot as shit.” Wade winks at you, you roll your eyes.

“Just shit.” 

“Agree to disagree, pookie.” A few moments of silence, where you tilt your head back to stare at the ceiling, take a few deep breaths, and try to not concentrate on how your bonds are practically vibrating with excitement even in their muted states. 

“Soooooo, how are we going to do this?” Wade is, of course, the one to break the silence. 

“Do what?”

“Start of this beautiful journey of loveeee and self healing?” Wade wiggles in his seat, pushing his shoulder into Logan, who rolls his eyes at his antics, but throws an arm around his shoulders.

“Fuck if I know.” A few beats where you try to think, now that you can focus on something else other than pain and nausea. “Regular-ish meetings would probably be good. Try to keep the side-effects, but also the contact, minimal.”

“Hurtful pookie.” Wade says again, but Logan talks before you can respond to him.

“Let’s start with once a week, and if that’s not enough, we’ll try more.” He suggests.

“Feels like I’m starting a god damn drug trial or some bullshit.”

“Trial of love pookie.” You groan as Logan snorts. Wade claps his hands together. “Well, consider this the start of many wonderful nights to come! Wanna watch a movie? Al is still out who the fuck knows where doing fuck knows what (probably coke) for a while, so we got the place to ourselves” You shrug. Might as well, if you are going to be forced to spend time with your soulmates so your body doesn't start to feel like you've been run over by a truck. 

A movie will hopefully keep your mind distracted, it’s not like you need to stare deeply into each other’s eyes, or talk about feelings, for it to work and calm down your body and mind.

Wade puts on a Barbie movie of all things, and begins to yap about the Barbie movie universe, or the BMU. Logan gets up to fetch some popcorn, which you take a few handfuls off as your stomach and body has settled for now. You pet Mary Puppins as you try to pay attention to the movie.

Thirty minutes into the movie, you are out like a light, the relief of your body making you fall asleep where you sit, Mary Puppins resting in your lap with your hand on top of her barely fur-covered head.

—---

When you wake up from your unplanned nap, it’s to your neck hurting from being at an odd angle for way too long. You have no idea what time it is, but it’s dark outside the window, the only light in the room is the rays spilling in from a lamp-post somewhere outside.

Taking stock of your body as you sit up properly, the only thing that aches is your neck and upper shoulders. A blanket that wasn’t there before falls into your lap as you move, Mary Puppins no longer occuping it. You realize that somehow, at some point during your sleep, the sofa, which apparently is a pullout, had been transformed into a bed. 

Which Wade and Logan are currently sleeping on, with a dog bed next to it where Mary Puppins is curled up.

How they had managed to do that without waking you, you don’t know. 

You really must have been exhausted.

You rub both your hands over your face, moving one to your neck to knead at the sore muscle there. You bite your lip to keep in the groan that threatens to slip out, glancing at the bed to make sure neither man wakes.

And then you keep looking.

Logan is on his back, one arm around Wade, whose head rests on his chest. Their legs are intertwined, both of them snoring quietly. They are both wearing shirts, though Logan’s have ridden up to show a hairy happy trail, which disappears underneath the edge of the blanket that covers their lower halves.

They both look surprisingly soft.

You shake your head as soon as that thought appears, banishing it to the darkness of the void. Where in the world did that come from?

That’s not a question you can answer, at least not with something that you will like, so instead you focus your energy on getting up from the chair as quietly as possible.

It must fail somehow though, because as you put the blanket down in the chair and stand up fully, there’s a soft call of your name.

Looking over to the pullout, Logan’s head is raised from the pillow. He’s looking at you, in the limited light it’s hard to tell his expression, but you don’t think he’s scowling.  

You think that’s about to change though.

“See you in a week Logan.” You whisper, and take the few steps needed towards the front door, opening it, and then closing it behind you with the softest click you can manage. 

This time you don’t run, even as much as your brain is screaming for you to do so. 

In the opposite direction of where you are actually going.

[lipstick-and-libraries]

Echoes of the Heart PT. 3

𓋜 Pairing: Minho (XO, Kitty) x fem! Reader

𓋜 Series: The Roommate Exchange

𓋜 Summary: A planned gala, Kitty's plans, managing your writing, and between all of that, the lingering feeling between you and Minho

𓋜 Notes: Thank you for waiting so patiently!! I have a lot going on rn but still want to give you your well deserved chapter, this might feel like a lot of progress in one, but I need the foundation for whats about to come ;)

Hope you have fun <3

Taglist <33: @finnbbl @literallysza @knivesdoingcartwheels @teaandbacon @dragonwitchy @alexandralibbre @formula1mount @strayk1ds143 @uhsophiesblog @iweirdthingsblog @random-human02 @elizabethgracie @verycoolmiyah

The news broke over the school announcements during lunch. Students at KISS paused mid-bite as Headmaster Lim’s voice echoed through the speakers.

“Attention students: This year’s highly anticipated Creative Showcase will be held next Friday evening, sponsored by none other than world-renowned entertainment executive Mr. Kim Minho. Students are encouraged to participate in this event to share their talents and creativity. We look forward to seeing the incredible work our student body has to offer.”

Kitty perked up immediately, clapping her hands together. “Oh, this is perfect!” she exclaimed, looking at (Y/N), who sat across from her in the cafeteria.

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. “Perfect for what?”

“For you! You should totally sign up and read one of your poems or stories,” Kitty said.

“I don’t know…” (Y/N) said, hesitating. “Sharing my writing in front of a bunch of people sounds terrifying.”

“Oh, come on,” Kitty pressed. “It’s an amazing opportunity! Plus, you’ve been writing non-stop lately. This could be your moment!”

As Kitty continued to gush, Minho appeared, sliding into the seat beside (Y/N) with his usual air of nonchalance. “What’s she dragging you into now?”

“The showcase,” Kitty said before (Y/N) could reply. “She’s going to read one of her pieces.”

She thinks for a minute, looking Minho up and down before grinning

“What about you?” Kitty asked, turning her attention to Minho. “You should play something on the piano. You do still play, right?”

Minho stiffened, his usual smug expression faltering for a moment. “Not a chance.”

“Why not?” (Y/N) asked, genuinely curious.

“Because,” Minho said, leaning back in his chair, “it’s not my thing anymore.”

Kitty scoffed. “Your thing? Please. You were amazing at the gala last year. Everyone knows it.”

Minho rolled his eyes, clearly uncomfortable. “I’m not signing up. End of discussion.”

Later that evening, back in his dorm with Q and Dae, Minho couldn’t get the conversation out of his head.

“You’ve been quiet,” Q said, glancing up from his desk. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Minho said, scrolling aimlessly on his phone.

Dae smirked. “Let me guess—something to do with (Y/N)?”

Minho shot him a glare. “No.”

Q snickered. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Minho sighed, tossing his phone onto the bed. “Fine. She’s signing up for that stupid showcase, and Kitty’s trying to drag me into it too.”

“And you’re not interested because…?” Q prompted.

“Because it’s pointless,” Minho said. “I don’t need to show off to a bunch of random people.”

“Or maybe,” Dae said, grinning, “you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” Minho snapped.

“Then prove it,” Q said.

The next day, Minho found himself lingering outside Kitty and (Y/N)’s dorm. He didn’t know why he was there, but when (Y/N) opened the door and raised an eyebrow at him, he panicked.

“Hey,” he said quickly. “You got a minute?”

(Y/N) stepped aside to let him in. “What’s up?”

Minho hesitated, glancing around the room. Kitty was nowhere in sight. “I heard you’re signing up for the showcase,” he said finally.

“Yeah,” (Y/N) said, her tone cautious. “Why?”

“I was thinking,” Minho said, struggling to keep his voice casual, “if you’re doing it, maybe I could…you know, help you out.”

(Y/N) stared at him, clearly suspicious. “Help me how?”

“Like, give you feedback or something,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I’m pretty good at knowing what works.”

“You want to critique my writing?” (Y/N) said, crossing her arms.

“No,” Minho said quickly. “I just thought—” He broke off, unsure how to explain himself.

(Y/N) tilted her head, studying him. “Why do you care so much?”

“I don’t,” Minho said, a little too fast. “I just…thought it might be cool to work together.”

Something in his tone made (Y/N) pause. She softened slightly. “Okay,” she said. “But only if you sign up too.”

Minho blinked. “What?”

“You heard me,” (Y/N) said, smirking now. “If you want to ‘help,’ you have to perform something too. Deal?”

Minho hesitated, his pride warring with the strange pull he felt toward her. Finally, he sighed. “I'll think about it, but it's not very likely”

The next week passed in a whirlwind of preparation. Minho spent his evenings practicing piano in secret, while (Y/N) worked on editing her piece. They met up occasionally to exchange updates, though their interactions were often filled with teasing and tension.

One evening, after a particularly long session, Minho walked (Y/N) back to her dorm. The rain had started again, a soft drizzle that clung to the air.

“Why did you really sign up?” (Y/N) asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

Minho glanced at her, startled. “What do you mean?”

“You didn’t want to do it at first, said you wouldnt, and then still decided to do it even though you didnt have to” she said. “What changed?”

Minho hesitated, his usual confidence faltering. “I guess…you did.”

(Y/N) stopped walking, turning to face him. “What?”

“I mean, I saw how passionate you were about it,” Minho said quickly, avoiding her gaze. “It made me think…maybe it’s worth a shot.”

The vulnerability in his voice caught her off guard. For a moment, neither of them said anything. The rain continued to fall, soft and steady.

“You’re full of surprises, Minho,” (Y/N) said finally, her voice quiet but sincere.

“So are you,” he replied, meeting her eyes.

They both subconsiously leaned in, not completely, but close enough so they could feel the others stuttering breath on their face

(Y/N) wanting to glance up to take in the situation as a whole, even though she was afraid, looked up, to find Minho already beating her to it

The intensity of his gaze made (Y/N)’s breath catch. She looked away, her heart pounding, and started walking again. Minho followed, the moment lingering between them like an unspoken promise.

Back in his dorm that night, Minho opened his phone to the anonymous blog. He typed a new post, his fingers trembling slightly.

“Is it possible to be drawn to someone because they make you feel something you’ve never felt before? To see them, and suddenly feel like you want to be more?”

He stared at the words for a long moment before hitting send.

And someone, somewhere, would stumble across it the next morning—and wonder who had written it.

[ecstarry]

"The Hunt" barty x monty x sirius

for @del-stars @moon-seas @velanavis & @star4daisy

“You pick.” Barty had been nursing the same glass for an hour. He was bored, horny, and at this point, desperate. It wasn’t even about finding someone to suck him off—he craved everything that came before that. He got off on the rush of the hunt.

Barty was a fucking town bicycle—everyone got a ride. He was a whore, but as soon as he’d burned through an entire bar’s clientele, the novelty wore off, and he’d find a new pool of people to entertain him.

Which had brought him here. A shitty bar with a hot bartender who, no matter how much Barty batted his eyelashes, wouldn’t so much as smirk.

“Why do you want me to pick? I’m not the one fucking them,” Sirius said, laughing.

Barty’s curiosity piqued. He leaned against the counter, meeting Sirius’ gaze. “I want to know who your type is.”

“Why?”

“Indulge me.”

“Fine.” Sirius put down the last glass he’d been cleaning and cracked open a beer for himself. “I like them older.”

Barty pointed at a guy who seemed to be in his mid-thirties.

“Come on, Barty.” Sirius took a sip of his drink.

“I mean actually older. Like ‘they know how to make you come quickly because they get tired after ten minutes of fucking you’ older.” Sirius’ pupils dilated as his gaze locked on someone across the bar.

A man—easily pushing fifty—emerged from the bathroom. He was tall, his button-down slightly unbuttoned to reveal a hint of collarbone and a gold necklace. Barty scanned him, taking particular interest in his hands. No wedding ring. A shame—Barty had a thing for corrupting married men.

“Okay,” Barty said with a grin.

“I don’t even know if he’s gay.”

Barty shot Sirius a mocking look.

“Fine. Of course, he’s gay,” Sirius muttered, unable to tear his eyes away from the man. “But he’s not interested.”

Barty slid off his seat and walked toward the man, settling on the stool next to him.

“Buy me a drink,” Barty said, pushing his empty glass forward.

“I’m gonna need to see some ID, kid.”

Obedient as ever, Barty pulled out his ID, licked the back of the card, and pressed it to his forehead. He could feel Sirius’ heavy gaze from across the room—no doubt blushing, and under those loose jeans, probably sporting a growing bulge.

“Nice picture—” The man leaned in slightly, squinting at the card. “—Bartemius.”

“Barty,” he corrected.

“Junior,” the man added. “I’m Fleamont.”

“You know another one?”

Fleamont smirked. “Something like that.” He finished the last of his drink in one swallow. “What are you drinking, Barty?”

“Whatever the pretty boy over there wants,” Barty said, gesturing toward Sirius, who hadn’t taken his eyes off them for a second.

A glint sparked in Fleamont’s eye as he glanced at Sirius, clearly clocking how pink his cheeks had turned under the attention.

“What are we having?” Fleamont asked.

Sirius grabbed his drink and poured it down the sink. “I’m on the clock. I can’t drink.”

Fleamont smirked. “Good boy.”

As if summoned, Sirius began walking toward them. Barty was still horny and fucking desperate—but now, he wasn’t bored.

The rest of the night blurred into a haze. The last customers left, leaving just the three of them. Sirius was no longer behind the bar but sitting beside Barty.

“I think we should play spin the bottle,” Barty said. The suggestion earned a loud laugh from Fleamont and a sharp glare from Sirius.

“I know you’re probably someone’s daddy and have no idea how the game works, so let me show you.”

Barty spun the bottle. Without waiting for it to stop, he turned and yanked Sirius’ shirt, pulling their lips together. Sirius moaned into the kiss. His lips were soft, and Barty wanted to bite them, to open him up. Sirius’ hands slid to Barty’s thighs, gripping tightly. The more Barty pulled back, the closer Sirius leaned in, his mouth chasing him.

Barty tugged on Sirius’ hair, guiding his mouth to his neck. Fleamont’s dark eyes gleamed with lust as he watched. Sirius lost himself, shifting closer and closer until he was practically seated on Barty’s lap.

With one hand, Barty pulled Fleamont toward the other side of his neck. Slowly, he dropped his head back, letting their tongues, teeth, and hands explore him—and each other.

The high of the hunt was intoxicating, but sometimes, the prey tasted just as sweet.

[sccrim]

warnings ( praising , masturbation , oral male , cum on face , spitting , face fucking )

you watch porn for the first time to get a clear view to make him feel good but you got caught.

sum light c:

you nervously cussed at yourself, realizing itachi wanted to have sex with you tonight. you had been with him for about six months now. of course you wanted to fuck him but you were a virgin. you never saw yourself losing it to random ass people but then itachi walked into your life and you’re in a different perspective.

you place yourself on the edge of your bed contemplating if you should do what you were thinking. you sighed and grabbed your laptop. biting your nails before typing your password in. "how bad can this be." you questioned. you searched pornhub. you scrolled to see different titles. none really caught your interest. it wasn’t that you were looking for a specific one but then again— you kinda were. you decide to type—

how to make a guy feel good.

you weren’t so sure if it would help but how did you know? you were new to this. the video began playing and you saw a woman telling the 'fans' to pay close attention. and if you wanted your man to cum so good that video was right for you. you laughed at yourself with this stupidity. was it really worth it or you would just wing it?

even though you thought it was dumb your eye still focusing on how she was sucking some random dudes dick. you couldn’t help it, you really wanted itachi to have a good time. you saw the woman grab the guys cock and started pumping it. her telling you to pump half and put your mouth on the tip.

you couldn’t lie. you were getting turned on. you now just imagining how itachi would feel and you seeing him in his vulnerable state. you placed your legs up and put your laptop to the side. you could feel yourself wet already. you could hear the guy moaning which turned you on even more. you started rubbing your cilt. before you let out a third moan itachi walked in.

your hand lifted up so fast. "babe?" he questioned. holy fuck. "itachi!?" you yelled. "i thought you weren’t coming until another hour?" you asked him. your face burning up. "yeah but sasuke wanted me to drop him off somewhere to i figured to just come over right now." he looked at your laptop which was still having the video playing. "were you watching porn?"

"no?—yes.." you couldn’t lie. the truth was right there. "this is so embarrassing—" itachi softly laughed. "it’s normal. i even watch it." maybe that made you feel a bit better but not so much. "ugh. i just wanted to know how to make you feel good for when we y'know— but then it started turning me on." you buried your face into your pillow.

"y/n.. whatever you do would make me feel good. i know you wanted to take it slow and i’m coo' with that. we have to tell each other what we like and don’t like."

"still. those girls who did it probably will be better than me." you laughed the pain away. "babe. everyone has to start somewhere and i promise you won’t be bad."

"c'here." you sat on his lap as he rubbing your back. "i love you y'know that." you nodded as he kissed your neck. "i love you so much." he murmured while leaving other kisses going down to your breast. "mhm." it was slowly turning you on. "were you thinking about me?" you can feel him smirk while sucking on your breast. "yes." you whispered. this was it. go for it.

"fuck. i missed you."

"teach me itachi." you looked into his eyes. "you sure?" he kissed your lip. "yes." you ran your hands through his hair. "get on your knees for me pretty." you bit your lip and go on them. you were nervous but you wanted it. you wanted him so fucking bad. "we can always stop okay." you nodded watching him take his shorts off.

you saw his length hit his stomach. shit. you looked up at him. "spit on it baby." he soft spoke. one thing about itachi is he’ll talk you through it. itachi tapped his pink tip on your lips. "go slow first okay and then grab your hand and jerk me off. just go slow for me baby." you opened your mouth making an O shape. you felt itachis body relax.

"fuck." itachi moaned. your head going back and forth slowly. you could feel him want to face fuck you but was nervous to do so. "use my mouth itachi." you spit on his dick more. "you sure?" you nodded remembering the woman say to let them face fuck you for a bit so you know how deep they like it. "let me know okay?"

itachi lightly gripped your hair and slowly started fucking your mouth. you could get the wetness coming in and out. you could hear itachi moaning. his hand making your head go back and forth while he— himself moved forward. this time he goes faster. you choking on his cock turned him on. his pretty little doll getting face fucked.

"baby." he murmured.

"your mouth feels so good on my dick. holy fuck."

you placed your palm under his balls causing him to moan. "yeah, play with em." he took a deep breath out. you started to but he took his dick out and started jerking himself off. "suck em. please." itachi begging? you were turned on. you mouth on his balls now. you can sense itachi coming to his high. he started jerking off faster and his moans getting out by the second. "ima cum pretty."

"cum all over my face." you smiled looking up at itachi. your mouth covered in your salvia and his pre-cum. "cum on my face baby." you smiled. and with that itachi came all over your face. "clean it for me?" he questioned. you grabbed his dick and licked off the rest of his come.

"you’re so pretty with my cum on you."

 sccrim — all rights reserved. please do not modify, repost , translate , or plagiarise my content.

[macsimagines]

Yandere!Izana Kurokawa Soulmate AU

I would rlly appreciate feed back on this one!! I'm unsure if i made it big enough

MINORS DNI

WARNINGS: YANDERE BEHAVIOR, ABUSIVE BEHAVIOR MENTION OF PHYSICAL VIOLENCE

Everyone is born with a tattoo that they share with their soulmate. A one of a kind design that can never be replicated and can only be connected to one other soul on the planet.

Izana's is on his inner wrist. A delicate spider-lily with peacock feathers that wrap around. The intricate lines and colors are so expansive and vibrant.

As a child he'd often get compliments on it, but as he grew older he had started to resent his soul mark. All it represented was that someone out there had truly existed only for him and yet they were no where to be found.

More and more people left him as time went on and it just truly deepened the feeling of being utterly alone.

Sometimes at night he'd stroke the lines of the flower petals, maybe even kiss along the feathers. He could feel you through this connection, he could feel you kiss and stroke the lines back.

"I'm here," is what it would seem to say, "You're not alone, I feel you, I love you."

But there were days that the isolation was too much, that the loneliness just seemed to consume him whole. Izana would scratch at his mark, curse it and bite at it, hoping you'd feel that pain and know that your absence was killing him.

You not being there was the greatest sin you could ever commit and he wanted you to know it. To hurt like how he was hurting.

Eventually, it didn't matter if he stroked his wrist with loving softness or if he'd rake his blunt finger nails so roughly he'd start to bleed. You'd stop responding altogether.

Izana didn't understand how he'd manage to loose something he never really had to begin with. How he could possibly miss someone he never even knew.

Years went on. He'd become a monster of Tenjiku. A ruthless king and soulless tyrant that ruled over all his subjects with an iron fist. He bit back that bitter hole in his chest and would ignore that withered flower on his wrist. He didn't need you, or anyone.

The very topic of Soulmates and Soulmarks were forbidden. One mention of it would result in a trip to the ER or worse yet the morgue. Soulmates just made you weak.

Or so he thought when Kakucho had approached him one day, a wary and tense look in his eyes.

"B-boss?" he'd said carefully, "I... I think I found your soulmate?"

For one split second hope had flooded back into him, bringing an ugly vulnerability he thought he'd eliminated as a child. But he quickly smashed it back down. So what? You meant nothing. You should mean nothing.

"I don't think I asked you to butt in needlessly. Should I just burn your mark right off and teach you a lesson?"

Threats like that were worse than threatening someone's life, and Izana feels a quick thrill in him when he watches his loyal dog put a hand on his mark, a beautiful and vivid butterfly surrounded by swirls on his chest. Right over his heart. Pathetic.

"S-she's working at a cafe. I saw the flower on her wrist same as y-!"

The king is sending Kakucho flying before he can even finish that sentence. His fist connecting with his chin and repeating over and over again.

Working. Of course. You weren't looking for him. You just moved on as though he meant nothing to you. He didn't mean anything to anyone.

When he's done with using Kakucho like a personal punching bag, he's getting the information he really wants. Your location.

He doesn't need you or want you. But you belong to him. He owns you and you don't get to live a life without him anymore, pretending he doesn't exist.

Izana walks in like he owns the café. Like he's ready to just grab you and throw you over his shoulder like a bag of rice, but then his eyes meet yours and something ugly in his chest squeezes.

Your eyes? They're so hollow. Like all the light has been drained from them and you're just wearing a human skin. It's like looking at someone dead.

He sees the mark on your wrist and there is no doubt that its his exact match but the colors look so dull and faded. Like the soul bond was slowly withering away from it.

But he steels himself. He pushes all that nonsense that makes his heart feel soft away and moves towards you. You don't even flinch when he slams his fist down onto the counter, making sure his mark is in plain view. "Hello and welcome to Kitten's Coffee, how can I help you-""Don't fuck with me. You know why I'm here.""To tell me you hate me in person?"

What the fuck? What would make you say that? You felt how much his heart yearned for you all those years ago. How it drove him completely insane to not have you.

But he's watching the dull color in your eyes get wet with tears, and something is telling Izana that somewhere along the way a grave mistake had been made. "You rejected me." you spit at him, voice shaking with a quiet rage, "It didn't matter how much love I poured into our bond, you were angry with me. You hated me. Scratching and biting at our mark like you wanted it gone, like you wanted me dead." Izana tastes something so bitter on his tongue it makes his stomach revolt. "Y-you weren't there," he hisses, "I needed you and you never came for me." "You didn't look for me either. Do you think you were the only one suffering?"

Silence fills the space between you. And Izana feels weight after weight fill his chest. Every emotion he held back every feeling he tried to smother down coming up in uncontrollable waves.

His hand reaches out and takes your wrist, delicately, and he traces the lines of your matching tattoo. You thought it was rejection when all it was was a punishment. He just wanted you to know how much he missed you.

Tears are streaming down your face, your perfect beautiful face. And Izana really takes you all in. His soulmate, perfection incarnate, in front of him. Everything he never knew he wanted and needed finally in front of him.

He takes you then and there. Not bothering to worry about the stares of all those on lookers. Who cares what peasants think? He loves that you don't fight, you must know that he knows best. That he'll make this right.

Izana doesn't hold back, the minute you two are alone he makes sure to tell you everything. He tells you about how he was abandoned and alone, how the world without you was unbearable. The first and only time he will accept that he was wrong was about you.

"I should've never taken it out on my mark. You're right. I should've just came and found you."

And you? Your head is spinning from all the whiplash. One second you're making coffees for Karens and the next your Tenjiku's queen. And if you don't like it? Too fucking bad.

You're moving in the very next day, and Izana is already discussing plans for marriage and a family. "The ceremony is only a formality. I just want people to see us together."

Of course he takes into consideration what you want. He wants to know it all, favorite foods and movies and clothes. He just won't listen to you saying you want to leave.

It's an unspoken rule with a looming threat of drastic measures if you do. "I can't imagine what would happen if I ever lost you, Y/N. It'd be a real nightmare for everyone."

Anyone that looks at you funny? Is disposed of at once. Any body rude to you? Sent to the ER on a stretcher. Someone wants to question or deny a request of yours? Dead.

Oh, Your soul mark? Its lavished with love and affection. He makes sure to use very expensive and high end moisturizer on your skin but pays extra attention to your mark. Kissing it tenderly and whispering sweet nothings onto the design like he's telling your very heart.

You wished it didn't have such an intense affect on you. But after years of thinking you were rejected and hated to suddenly being so loved and adored had your poor head spinning. "Don't worry, Y/N. I'll take care of everything."

[annoyinglilbro]

Prince brothers??? Hello???

Older brother who is poised and put together, level headed and excelling in his lessons, good with words and can talk himself out of almost any bind. Ofcourse hes good in combat too if it should come to that, but he rarely has to resort to that. He’s so smart and knows so much and is the kings favorite son.

Younger brother who is messy and always late, who would rather be outside and playing than doing this lessons, which he’s falling behind in. He’s rowdy and loud and short tempered and often finds himself running his mouth and getting into scuffs with low lifes in the kingdom. Messy hair and scrapes all over his body.

Big brother who constantly has to pull him from fights where’s Hes definitely outnumbered and going to lose. Big brother who adores his little brother and wants to keep him safe but he’s such a brat and always rolling his eyes or making faces while his big brother talks.

“I don’t need you taking care of me all the time! I can handle myself, golden boy. Fuck off.”

“Would you stop acting like a brat for five minutes? You were not winning that fight, they outsized and outnumbered you.”

“Oh my gods! I would’ve been fine! I train with the knights, i can handle a few jerks with no real training. Why are you here anyway? Don’t you have some fucking meeting or something to be at? Shouldn’t you be by daddy’s side as his shiny little prince?”

Little brother scoffs, shoving past his big brother only to be pulled back the collar of his shirt and pinned to the grimey, alley wall. His wrists are wrapped easily in one hand and pinned above his head.

“Let go! You big jerk!”

“Stop it! I’m just trying to look out for you!” Big brother who pressed his forehead to his little brothers, forcing eye contact. “Why are you always so difficult? Just listen!”

“Go away!! Just leave me alone!”

“I can’t! I’ve tried, and I can’t. You don’t even…you have no idea…how hard it is..”

The younger pauses his squirming, looking up at the other with confused eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

The older Prince sighs, closing his eyes and keeping his forehead pressed to the other, his free hand finding its way under his brothers button up and squeezing at this hip.

“There’s something wrong with me, I know it. But you’re all I think of. My pretty little brother, with all your quirks and bad habits, you consume me. The restraint it takes to not take you…and everyday it gets harder.”

Little prince who is frozen in confusion, the fingers squeezing his hip new and foreign. This is different. This isn’t like when they train in the corridor together, or even like any of their scuffles they’ve had in the past. It feels…different. Realization starts to dawn over him.

“Are you infatuated with your fucking brother? Are you serious? That’s…oh my gods hilarious! The perfect son, the smart one, the one everyone fucking adores!” He laughs when his brother moves back and stares at the floor, face red.

“Do you touch yourself to thoughts of me?”

“Every night.” Older brother leans down, and buries his face into the younger’s neck. “Will you indulge me, little brother? Let me know what you sound like, what you taste like? Atleast once, just for my fantasies.”

His brother always was good with words, and now he was using them to make his head spin.

“I…we probably…shouldn’t…”

“Nobody will know. It can be between us, like when we were kids and you snuck extra cookies into bed. Or that time I covered for you with that stray cat. I miss that, when you would come to your big brother for everything? When you clung to me so desperately? You used to follow me like a puppy, surely you wouldn’t start to bite now, would you? Would you deny me the one thing I’ve ever asked of you?”

“I…that’s not fair it’s not the same I-“ his words are caught in his throat when his brother bites into the flesh on his neck. He couldn’t stop the little whimper that fell from his lips, his wrists were starting to go sore in his brothers grip.

“Stop running from me. I want to get along again, don’t you want us to get along?”

The hand on his hip has dipped down and past the waistband of his trousers. His brothers fingers, his mouth, touching and tasting him in ways he never imagined. He sounds so desperate, truely pleading for his little brothers affections again.

“Big brother…please.”

[ohfckitsdeadpool]

"No, of course not, silly! I only kill the people I get paid for, peanut. But, looks like we're having our very first date instead. We're even sharing a milkshake! I should not have filled up on those tacos beforehand! I even made one of your pancakes look like a heart..." Wade tilted his head slightly at the pancake sitting on top of Logan's stack, it looking quite sad and lopsided. "Or a dick. Maybe both if you use your imagination!" Wade smiled as he shoved his mask up just enough to reveal his mouth. He remembered Logan's visceral reaction to seeing his face for the first time, while they were at a diner and trying to eat. He wasn't about to subject the man to his grotesque face while eating again. "Look, peanut..." Wade shoved a mouthful of syrup-drenched pancake into his mouth, barely taking the time to chew before he swallowed it down. "I get it. You're drinking away your sorrows because you think you're the worst." Wade shoved another bite of pancake into his mouth, barely looking up from his plate. He was rarely real with people these days, never really liked to just lay it out for people, because even that caused him pain. So him not making eye contact while trying to bring up something serious...was serious business. "You weren't the worst when you saved my world...my nine people. The only family I had. I wanted you to be a part of that family. I know we aren't them...your family...we could never be them, but they would have loved you, y'know." Wade forced a smile as he briefly glanced up at Logan before shoving another mouthful of pancakes into his mouth, only to turn his head slightly off to the left to stare into nothing yet again. "Y'know, reader. I'm not really one for the deep, emotional speeches. I wish I was like that, but that's hero shit. I'm no hero, despite that whole thing with nearly being ripped apart while listening to "Like a Prayer" by Madonna and holding hands with a very ripped Hugh Jackman. That was a fluke...a one-off chance that I actually did do some hero-ing and saved the world! But! I did it for nine people. Some may call that selfish, because I didn't do it for the rest of the world, but my world is what matters most. I hand-picked them to be my family with love in my heart and a boner in my pants. Yada yada...Anyways, back to our regularly-scheduled sap-fest." Wade sighed as he leaned over to sip his milkshake, smiling at Logan sitting across from him. "But yeah...anyhoo, don't even know where anyone in this joint is. It's been like...half an hour at least and not a soul in sight. It's like Thanos snapped his fingers and made everyone turn to dust..." Wade glanced around with a frown as he popped a strawberry in his mouth.

It was a slow night at Sister Margaret's. Wade thought he would have had a job land on his lap by now, but there was nothing. He sighed, taking a sip of is vodka cran, his lips upturning in a grimace before he threw his mask back down over his face. Even his drink made him feel miserable. Wade wasn't even paying attention to the new face at the bar; someone he should have recognized. Instead, he turned to the reader, a scowl plastered over his mask-covered mouth. "You know, reader. It's nights like these where I wish a wife would hire a guy like me to murder her good-for-nothing, two-timing, backstabbing lying cheating husband, even if I only got paid fifty dollars to do it! I am worth more than that. I mean, have you seen these buns? Steve Rogers may have America's ass, but I sure as hell have Canada's ass. And fifty bucks ain't going to pay to keep Canada's ass looking as perky as it does. But at this point, I will do anything to get the sad little fly in my wallet some blowjob money." Wade babbled to seemingly no one in particular before turning back to his drink. He quickly pushed his mask up to take a drink, just as Weasel called out his name. "Wade! You're with the new guy. Ride-along! Make sure shit goes smoothly." Wade's attention turned to the guy sitting a few seats off to his right, and his eyes lit up. "Hooooly shit, it's the ol' man, himself! Logan! You're in the merc biz, now? What? Charles isn't paying you enough? Please tell me he wasn't giving you minimum wage..." Wade frowned sarcastically. @ohfckitsdeadpool

Logan let out a soft grumble at the sound of Wade’s voice, but he didn’t know how to feel about it since he was shit faced. He turned his head, his face rested on the bar as he looks over at Wade who was sitting a few seats down from him. He blinked a few times before pulling his head up, looking like a new born who just learned to sit up.

“mmh..mm— the what—?” *His face scrunched slightly in confusion, his drunk mind not wrapping around what Wade said. Instead he put his face back down into the bar, not wanting to think about it anymore since his head was pounding, probably from drinking so much but it wasn’t like he was gonna stop.*

@ohfckitsdeadpool

//I am SO sorry I didn’t see this ask!

[fumifooms]

Canines

The hand that feeds

Mickbell Tomas & Kuro Dungeon Meshi

^ 1: Ink-the-artist, I will remove my teeth / 2: Margaret Atwood / 3: C.S. Lewis, The Horse and His Boy / 4: Mitski, I’m your man / 5: Ojibwa, I love you like a rotten dog / 6: KotOR II / 7: Stardrop, Everything that’s ever been mine is covered in teeth marks / 8: Sodikken, People Eater / 9: Mitski, I’m your man / 10: maxime., The life and death of a dog / 11: Mitski, I bet on losing dogs / 12: maxime., The life and death of a dog / 13: hun, I did not bite with Malice / 14: C. Michael Davis, Don't Pet the Dragon / 15: Mitski, I’m your man

v 1: Early versions of the myth as in aeschylus orestes / 2: Ink-the-artist, I will not remove my teeth

[25shadesoffebruary]

I dare you to kiss Top.

[kyouka-supremacy]

Well.

[tenwhiteandalusians]

is episode 8 the domitian arc ? more on this and EVEN MORE narratives i’ve been ignoring that the show said “actually,,,” about in 5

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

pro tip: if a doctor is saying shit and you’re getting weird vibes you can stare dead at them until they shut up and/or call them out and watch them scramble

[science-lings]

i just want to see what it takes to make the most polite, mild-mannered, objectively chill guy snap. I want to see the guy has gone through some real fucked up shit with a steady disposition finally find the straw that breaks the camel's back and absolutely go apeshit. and I want it to be witnessed by people who didn't think he had it in him. I think that would be neat.