#it gives me so much strength to know that you're here with me!!!!!
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vminsos · 4 hours ago
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@hosam-2 - post | fundraiser
@hosam-2 message: "Hi, I hope this message finds you well. We’ve launched a campaign to support Hussam in Gaza, who is dedicating his time to feeding dozens of abandoned animals left behind by the conflict. Any donation, no matter how small, can make a huge difference in saving these innocent lives. Please consider visiting the campaign link and contributing if you're able to. Thank you so much for your kindness"
@nooribrahim24 - post | fundraiser
@nooribrahim24 message: "Hello, I am Noor from Gaza. I need your help urgently, My mother is now in intensive care on an oxygen machine. I am very afraid of losing my mother, She needs an operation urgently."
@aisha20586 - post | fundraiser
@aisha20586 message: "Please, my friend, donate to me. The situation is very, very difficult. My children are suffering from hunger, illness, and extreme cold in the tent. We are hungry. There is no food, no drink, no milk to breastfeed my children, not even diapers. My husband is sick and cannot work, and we do not have money to buy. Please help me and my family. Thank you very much."
@assifamilygaza3 - post | fundraiser
@assifamilygaza3 message: "❤️🍉 Our support is very weak. I am Nour from Gaza, a mother of three children. I gave birth to my baby a few days ago during the war. I was born under very difficult circumstances. The war made us lose everything. I don't have money to buy milk🍼, diapers or clothes for my baby. My newborn baby needs emergency surgery affecting his growth that costs $350. Please help save my child Hamza 😭💔🙏 Support us with Christmas gifts with your donations to us and help us with your support😿 Please look at us with mercy"
@mssb9994 - post | fundraiser
@mssb9994 message: "
🚨 We Need Your Kindness to Survive 🚨
Hello, My name is Mosab Elderawi, and I live in Gaza with my family. Life here has become harder than I ever imagined, and I’m writing this with hope in my heart that you might hear our story.
The ongoing war has devastated my family. We’ve lost 25 family members—each one a beloved part of our lives, taken too soon. I miss them deeply—their laughter, their presence, their love. Every day is a reminder of this unimaginable loss.
We are now facing daily challenges to survive—things that most people take for granted, like food, clean water, and a safe place to sleep. The harsh realities of life here have replaced our dreams with the constant fight for survival.
Our Current Situation:
💔 Lost Stability: The war has left us without work or a stable source of income. 🍞 Basic Needs: Food and water are becoming harder to afford with rising prices and scarce resources. 📚 Dreams on Hold: Like so many here, my family’s dreams have been replaced by the need to simply survive. 😢 Unimaginable Loss: Losing 25 loved ones has left a void that can never be filled.
How You Can Help:
I’m sharing our story with the hope that someone out there might care. Even $5 can make a big difference for us, and if you’re unable to donate, just reblogging this post can help spread the word.
Your kindness, no matter how small, is something we’ll never forget.
What This Means to Us:
Your support is not about changing our entire situation—it’s about giving us a little relief, a little hope, and a way to keep going. We are not asking for much, and we understand if you can’t donate. Sharing our story is just as valuable to us as a donation.
Thank you for reading this far. It means the world to us to know that someone is listening. Your kindness gives us strength and helps us believe in a better tomorrow.
With all our gratitude, Mosab Elderawi and Family ❤️"
@saraanna1 - post | fundraiser
@saraanna1 message: "
Hello
I am Hiba Khader, a mother of three from Gaza🇵🇸.
The war has destroyed everything—my home, my job, and my dreams.
Each night, I cry as my children go to bed hungry, their laughter replaced by fear and pain.
I’m begging for your help to give my children a safe home and a chance at life."
hello, these people reached to me for help in my inbox. since I can't donate, I can only help sharing their stories and fundraiser! so, if you are able to donate, please do it! and if not, I would be glad if you reblog and share this post! thank you!
@yusra-maryam58 - post | fundraiser
@abuadam86 - post | fundraiser
@teto110 - post | fundraiser
@ibrahem-4 - post | fundraiser
@nedaaabd - post | fundraiser
@hashem1979 - post | fundraiser
@yasmin-yonis - post | fundraiser
@ammarfamily - post | fundraiser
@yousef-falestinef - post | fundraiser
@mohammed-hassouna1 - post | fundraiser
@samy-family55 - post | fundraiser
@wafaaresh1 - post | fundraiser
these are the ones it was on my inbox today! this post probably will be updated if i receive more!
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melancholyswayafterdark · 24 hours ago
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hi! Im the anon that you just responded to hehe, so i have an idea!
so 2007 raphael comes home from doing his nightwatcher duty, hes kinda exhausted but its better when he comes home to you <3 You offer to give him some shoulder massages and it turns into a heated make out session which leads to... you know~
anyway, its just an idea! Hope you have a great night/day <3
we are so back. lmk if yall want a part 2~ I KNOW 2007 RAPH HATES TO SEE ME COMING FR-
NOTE: this is my after dark blog, and you're going to find smut here. 2007 is a more mature version of the turtles, and they are around their early/mid 20s. MINORS DNI. CONTAINS : Giving/Receiving head
TMNT 2007!Raphael x Reader: Unwind (NSFW 18+)
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Imagine Raphael paying you a visit after a night out being the Nightwatcher.
He’s exhausted and wants to see you- and could use a relaxing shower.
He wonders if you’re awake- he looks at the night sky; it had to be past midnight by now. Maybe 2 AM?
But, who was he kidding? You were always awake; waiting for him, wanting him. 
That particular thought made a heat rise in between his thighs, and he looked in the direction of your apartment. 
The most sinful thoughts run through his mind, and he can’t help but reminisce about the last time you were both intimate. How you screamed his name and pleasured him in ways he couldn’t by himself. How good your tight pussy felt around his throbbing cock. Oh yeah, he needed you right now. 
So when he calls you and says he’s coming over, you hop out of bed and head over to the bathroom to set it up for him like you always do
A fresh towel, a washcloth, the whole nine. 
By the time Raphael arrives, his Nightwatcher helmet is off, revealing the face you’ve come to love. He’s sweating, and panting, yet still has the strength to sweep you off your feet and kiss you as a greeting.
It’s the same routine you and the red terrapin have become accustomed to. You wait until he gets out of the shower, you make out, and then he fucks your brains out.
Just the way you liked it.
However this time, Raphael appears to be more fatigued than he usually is. Normally, he comes over and he’s ready to get to work, but right now, as he comes out of the steaming shower, his muscles are sore.
“Hey, you okay?” You ask, watching as Raphael tries to get the knots out of the sides of his neck. He could really, really use a massage right now.
“Uh, yeah, I’m good.” He replies, but you know him all too well. 
You motion for him to come to you, and he obliges. However, instead of going in for a kiss like you usually do, you place your hands on his shoulders and place some pressure on those spots that seem to be bothering him the most. 
=~*~*~=
“Not that I’m complainin’, but what are ya doin'?” The turtle’s golden eyes look into yours as he turns his head to face you. Smiling while sitting behind him, you kiss his cheek.
“I figured you needed a massage. It looks like those muscles need some TLC.” You knew more than anyone that Raphael put much effort into being The Nightwatcher. It meant being able to put in 100% effort every time he put his suit on. With Leonardo currently training abroad, Raphael became accustomed to sneaking out and playing vigilante. It was rewarding, more so now since he gets to see you every night. You took care of him, in more ways than one.
“Ya always know what I need, dontcha princess?” You could hear the playfulness in Raphael’s gruff voice, and that alone started to get you going. If his tone wasn’t enough, him calling you princess was. Raphael viewed you like a goddess, and he placed you so high on a pedestal that he made it a rule for himself to treat you like one. You weren’t just some fuck buddy, you were his, and that’s how he liked it.
“Don’t start,” you nudge him softly, warning the smug turtle not to go there yet; you wanted to finish massaging his perfectly sculpted muscles. 
You had begun to hit all the right spots that were bothering him, and Raphael couldn’t be more appreciative of you than right now. He wondered what he could do to repay you.
Raphael turns his head to you, and he thinks about all the ways he could satisfy you. By this point, you had both come to understand how each other’s bodies worked; what you liked and what you didn’t like. Raphael knew what spots to hit, what places to bite, and what places to suck. 
He watches you hungrily, watching how your pretty face seems fixated on his body, yet you don’t seem to notice how his amber eyes stick to you like glue. He smirked at how oblivious you were at this moment. 
 He thought about- oh! How fun it was last time to eat you out. He wanted to do that again. Or how about that time he came in your mouth just from head? Or even when- you know what? Fuck it. Raphael couldn’t take it anymore. His sexual urges were beginning to take over, and he was ready to devour you like his prey.
“Princess,” He had enough.
“Hmm?” You hum absentmindedly in response. Looking up at him, you could tell what was coming next. The gaze he was giving you, how his voice became gruff and hoarse. Oh, he was ready; and so were you. 
“C’mere-” Grabbing you by your waist, Raphael maneuvers you to where you’re straddling his lap, making sure you can feel the erection against your exposed thigh from your shorts. Getting on top, you wrap your arms around the turtle’s neck, going in for the first kiss. This one would set the tone for the rest of the night. When the first kiss is gentle, Raphael lets you take the lead (which wasn’t often). If the kiss is anything but, he’s usually the one who makes you his and gets you begging for him. You were about to find out how the night would play out. 
“Mmm,” You giggle softly into the kiss, feeling as Raph pulls you closer and places a hand on your neck, placing pressure on the opposite ends of it with two out of three fingers. If that didn’t indicate how the rest of the moment would play out, the way he crashed his lips onto yours and beat you to the punch sure did. His tongue explored your mouth, looking for its partner in crime to dance with. Once your tongues connected, they began battling it out for dominance. Who would reign on top?
Spoiler: it’s Raphael. 
You couldn’t predict him giving your ass a tight squeeze which caused you to moan and put your guard down. Smirking into the kiss, Raphael begins tugging at your shorts, requesting-- no -- demanding that they come off immediately.
When you don’t comply and decide to tease him by slowly reaching for the hem, he takes matters into his own hands.
“Raph!” You roll your eyes at the terrapin, watching as your torn bottoms hit the floor. You felt the air hit your rear as it was now exposed- only a red pair of panties covering you now. “Those were my favorite shorts.”
It seemed this comment didn’t phase Raphael- his fingers found their way toward your waistline and soon your thighs to feel the heat pooling between them. He rubbed his fingers in a circular motion on your sex, feeling your clit swell with excitement for what was about to happen. Raphael’s mind was running wild, he wondered how quickly he could make you cum from just his tongue alone. However, you had other plans. You peel your black tee from your body, feeling the sweat accumulating from the heated moment get wicked away from your skin. You had planned this very moment- and suddenly, Raphael’s attention was on your red bra. You smiled as you got down from straddling his waist on the bed, standing confidently in your own skin as your lover stared you up and down. From head to toe, top to bottom, Raphael loved it when you wore his favorite color. 
He couldn’t wait to devour you.
You watch as his hands wrap around you to unclip the article of clothing from your body, not caring where he threw it once it became undone. He picks you up, plopping you down on the bed. Raphael was ready to eat. Getting on his knees in front of you, he puts his hands together, jokingly thanking you for the meal. He starts with spreading your legs, getting a fantastic view of his feast. He sucks on your clit, watching as you immediately twitch in excitement in response to his mouth on your sex. His wide tongue flicking and sucking in all the right places. Your thighs grip both sides of Raph’s head, making sure his face isn’t going anywhere but in your dripping cunt. As your legs shake from sensitivity, your mutant boyfriend teases you by placing a thick finger by your entrance, ready to prepare you for the real thing. Making sure you really want this, Raph’s face comes from between your legs, looking at your half-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks for confirmation to continue. You whine in annoyance, locking your eyes with Raph. His golden eyes look up at you from your sex, juices from your entrance all over his lips. Quickly wiping his mouth, he takes a breath before diving back in after your head nod of approval. 
“Please,” You manage to breathe out, lustful eyes staring hungrily at the red-banded turtle in front of you. You could almost taste the moan about to erupt from your throat as Raph teased your slippery entrance with his index. The way he had you right where he wanted you seemed to arouse him even more. 
“More,” He flicks his finger, going a mere 2 centimeters inside before retreating outside; the tip of his digit glistening from your arousal. “Beg fa me.” Oh, Raph knew just how to get you under his spell. He’s watching your facial expressions and furrowed brows, trying to focus on your climax, and it seemed to quicken when he asked you to beg. 
“Ya want it?” He teases, removing his finger completely. “Yes,” You moan. However, the smirk on Raph’s face tells you that you’re going to have to do more than just say a simple yes. 
“Not good enough,” The hothead comments, “Try again.” His head lifts from your thighs and moves to your neck, teeth grabbing onto your warm skin softly. He knows exactly which place gets you going, and when he gets there, you can’t help but let out a moan of satisfaction. 
“P-please, Raph,” You strain, the feeling of Raph suckling on your skin almost sending you into overdrive. “I want it.” 
However, the turtle doesn’t stop, and his thumb somehow finds your enlarged clit, flicking it every which way at a speed that would get you to finish in an instant. You grip his shoulders, throwing your head back until Raph pushes your back onto the bed. He lifts your left leg up, licking his lips to reminisce about just how sweet you tasted. He wanted to go back for seconds. 
Your mind began imagining the most sinful thoughts you could even imagine. What didn’t help was that Raph’s finger suddenly went inside you, causing your sex to stretch out from how big his finger was. Your body jolts from surprise, causing a moan to escape from your lips. You tightened around the turtle’s finger, feeling his “come here” motion that only brushed over your G-spot. 
As the turtle in red did this, you noticed the large bulge from the side of his plastron by his muscular thighs. Now, Raph knew he had a big cock. He was quite smug about it. The only part that made him anxious was putting it inside you. He didn’t want to hurt you from his size. 
Suddenly, you had an idea, and your mouth seemed to water from the thought of Raph’s green member inside it. 
“W-wait,” Your hands placed on his plastron, and Raph looks up immediately with a concerned look on his face. 
“Sorry, did I hurt ya?” He asks. It’s quite comical how Raph’s tone can switch. He was just eating you out, having you at his mercy, and now he’s back to big teddy bear Raph. 
“No…just…” You sit up, your hair now messy from the sexual activity. Loose strands sticking to your face from the sweat littering your skin. Skin warm to the touch and mouth slightly open to regulate your breathing. You were a beautiful mess. You watch Raph’s hungry eyes, seemingly fucking you with his gaze alone. 
“Lay down.” You command with a silvery voice. Raphael, unsure of what you were doing complies. Did you want to cuddle? Were you tired? Did you need a second to breathe? He was unsure. 
He’s still unsure as he hits the pillow with his cranium, your bed’s headboard moving slightly. His point of view encapsulates his obvious boner, and you are off to the side of him, looking up with your innocent doe eyes. Your hand caresses the “issue” between his legs, feeling how big it is, and how it twitches in response. Raph’s face is stunning. Beads of sweat on his forehead and his throaty voice scrambling for words to say as you move his plastron to the side. In an instant, Raph’s member springs out, precum dripping from the tip. His emerald member stands tall and hard, with deep green veins going down from the base to the head.
You eye his sex, almost drooling from how nice it looked with the moon’s light seeping through your window. Your thumb circles Raph’s tip, watching as more precum emerges and a deep sigh erupts from Raph’s throat. “Are…are ya sure?” The red-clad turtle asks in a smoky voice. 
You silently nod, determined to take him in your mouth. Albeit a little overwhelming from his size, but, your sexual urges would overcome this. You grab Raph at his base, wrapping your hand around him. Your head dipping into his lap and mouth gaping to welcome his dick in your warm cavern. Your mouth becomes a little stretched and tears emerge from the inner corner of both your half-opened eyes. Moaning in satisfaction, you ball your fists to remove any gag reflex. As you go deeper, Raph’s throaty voice groans in delight, and you feel his hand grab a fistful of your hair to hold onto. 
“Princess…ya…yer doin' it so good,” Raph could die right now and be satisfied. His point of view now watching as your swollen moist lips seem to kiss and engulf more than half of his full size. “Keep goin’, jus like dat.” Raph’s amber eyes watched as you looked up with your e/c ones, seeing as your tear-stained cheeks flushed from testing your limits with his girth. He tests the waters a bit, and he gently guides your head to go at a steady pace, bobbing up and down his shaft. 
Now, Raph isn’t known to moan. He tries to hide them by covering his mouth or biting his lip if he has to. But, he knew you liked his noise. His deep moans were music to your little ears. 
As you hummed and the vibrations went down to his base, you caressed his balls before pulling your lips away from his wet tip, a string of saliva connecting you to it. 
“Mmm, come on, Raph,” You tease, leaning towards him and planting a kiss on his neck. “Let me take care of you.” Your hand makes its way from the sack back to the shaft, slightly squeezing as you stroke up and down. 
“F-fuck, Y/n…ya gonna make me cum like this.” You can see Raph’s eyes squeezed shut from the pleasure, his heightened sense of smell taking in the aroma of your sweet sultry scent. Your mouth takes in half of Raph’s member, the lower half being stroked by your hand. You were putting in the work needed to satisfy this turtle, and he was so appreciative of you. Your hair still balled in his fist, you could feel his member begin to twitch after some time. He loved the feeling of you choking on him, and he couldn’t help but move your head down a little after each stroke and penetration into your mouth, feeling your tongue lick around his head in the process. There were just so many sensations going on for him, that Raph’s breath began to get uneven; the volume of his groans increased to an astronomical level. Raphael wasn’t a quiet lover, no, he wanted everyone to know what was going on. 
“Y/n,” Raph managed to moan your name, to which you continued sucking and deepthroating, his noises fueling your desire to make him cum. Raph watched as his dick was covered in your saliva, the hand wrapped around his base squelching as it stroked up and down in sync with your mouth on his top half. It was just so much that…
“F…fuck! I’m…” You were maxing out your speed, ignoring your sore mouth and cramped hand for the satisfaction of Raph crumbling from your touch. He was under your spell; and you knew it, too.
‘He’s gonna cum’ Your lips curl into a smile as they continuously go along his long shaft. Soon enough, you switch up your approach for the final stretch. You remove your hand from Raph’s sex, taking in his whole member as tears prick the ends of your eyes. You could feel his tip hitting the back of your throat, and the feeling alone caused you to clamp your thighs together, feeling as your own arousal dripped onto the sheets. 
“Y-yer so…fuckin’ good…fuck,” Raph swore like a sailor every time you were intimate. The more he swore, the closer he was to finishing. However, before he can finish, he gets an idea in that clouded head of his. 
“Get up.” He says. You comply, and he guides you to the floor as you get on your knees, his form towering over you. Looking up at him with lustful eyes, he knew this was what he wanted to see as he came. You could only see his plastron and his bulging muscles, his member poking your cheek. Guiding it to your mouth, his hand grabbing your hair. He looks at you for approval, to which your soft voice sends him over the edge. 
‘Mm…use me, Raph,” You knew exactly what you were doing to him, didn’t you? Those words were music to his ears. When you felt his grip on your hair tighten and he held your head, you knew you were in for a wild ride. 
Bucking his hips forward, he thrust into your mouth. Your hands gripped his thighs for support, feeling his tip once again knocking on your throat’s door as if it could be invited in to go any deeper. 
“Ya like that, don’t ya?” Raph’s throaty voice teases you. Your watery eyes look up at his golden ones, your nod and vibrations on his cock indicating just how satisfied you were. When you couldn’t take it anymore, one of your hands left his thighs and went down into your own sex. Your fingers spread your pussy and rub your enlarged clit. You moaned on your boyfriend’s dick, his deep groans causing your body to shiver in desire for him to be inside you.
Raphael’s eyes watch as his length disappears in your mouth, only for it to reappear with every thrust. He couldn’t wait to be inside you, the thought of stretching you out giving him just the push he needed to reach his climax. 
“F…fuck, ya gonna make me…fuck!” Raph’s thrusts into your mouth now had an irregular tempo from just a few moments ago. With one final thrust, you felt as if the inside of your throat had been painted with Raph. You could feel ropes of cum shooting and hitting the back of your throat. Your walls seemed to clench with anticipation for what was to come next, and as usual, Raph’s erection inside your mouth didn’t falter, and the grip your lips had on his member didn’t seem to falter, either. Raph’s cum was on the salty side, with subtle hints of sweetness in the aftertaste. Nevertheless, you swallow it all, and as Raph pulls his member from your moist cavern, he watches your tongue stick out, to show him your cum-free mouth; an indicator that he tastes as good as he looks. 
His eyes look at you in satisfaction as his voice materializes from his dry throat, “I love ya. Yer such a good girl,” Raph’s signature smirk dances on his lips as he cups your cheeks, helping you up from the floor as your knees are weak. Your tired mouth mumbles an “I love you, too,” before it collides with his as you both share a sloppy kiss. As you did so, you don’t even notice his hands wrap around your waist to pick you up. You giggled as your legs snaked around him. Once he gets toward the bed, he places you down, the softness of the mattress comforting your lower lumbar. 
He wanted to reward you for doing so well. He knew your facial muscles were exhausted from pleasuring him, that all he wanted to do now was take care of you down there. Raphael’s sex drive is as high as anyone’s can be, and he was ready to go round for round with you. He was ready to have the neighbors know his name from the way you screamed it.
And here, dear readers, the question is posed: Ready for round 2?
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snow-blower · 6 hours ago
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Cregan smut headcanons please! He gives me gentle giant teddy bear that doesnt know his own strength
I have some Cregan head canons in my drafts that I'm working on for tmr but I can put a few here :)
He is a gentle giant. The sweetest too. He'd be so soft and gentle with his touches, making sure he's bringing you the utmost pleasure.
He'd fuck you slow and deep, relishing in each gasp and moan he draws from you.
Praise. He'd praise the fuck out of you. Best believe you're getting 'good girls' and 'you take me so well'.
He loves playing with your hair whilst he fucks you. He loves tangling his fingers in the silky strands, using it to deepen kisses.
He loves going down on you too. He'd undress you, worship you, fuck you with his tongue, you know it.
I feel like he'd know he could be rough, and he would be so worried about hurting you. He's just so much bigger than you. His hands were made for war. But he'd be so determined to treat you so gently like a delicate doll.
If you did want him to be rough, you'd have to beg and plead, swearing that you want it and that you trust him not to truly hurt you.
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ttrpg-life · 1 day ago
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How the Game Works
Welcome welcome! Here are the basic rules of the game and explainations of the archetypes!
Basic Premise:
RPG Life is based on the Powered by Apocolypse system (specifically I've referenced Monster of the Week, the original Powered by Apocolypse, and Simple World).
It's a system that emphasises roleplay and simplicity. All you need is the basic rules, character sheet, and two, six sided die to play.
You roll the two dice, add them and any relevant stat together. 2-6 is a fail, 7-9 is a mixed success, while 10+ is a success.
Preferable you need 3-5 people to play like most ttrpgs. One player becomes the Game Master (or Watcher in our case) and plays as the world, NPCs, and the in game watchers. The rest of the players create characters with an archetype and an optional hybridization.
Archetypes:
There are (currently) 9 archetypes you can play as in RPG Life. Each one is based on a specific playstyle from the Life Series and popular fanon. In contrast to the Hermitcraft TCG, archetypes are based on how players interact with each other and the world around them rather specifc skills like redstone or building.
The archetypes focus on specific seasons rather than players as a whole.
For example, Grian could be The Loyal in 3rd life, The General in Last Life, The Survivalist in Double Life, The Trapper in Limited Life and so on.
Each archetype has stats and moves (or special abilities) that build your character, much like a class in Dungeons and Dragons. As you level up you can upgrade stats, get more moves from your archetype or a different one.
The Hustler
“I’m gonna need your pants”
What’s better than making deals? Nothing. Hustlers play this death game like they were born to, walking around groups of enemies without a care in the world and leaving with the clothes off their backs. They guide unsuspecting players into contests that lead to their deaths or smooth talk to safety. No matter what, the Hustler knows how to play people like a fiddle and they’ll do it to achieve their goals.
Life Series Characters that fit this role: Scar, Martyn, Tango, and Impulse
This archetype gets options like creating a signature hustle, talking your way out of bad situations, pretending to have better gear than you do, and having a keen eye to read people.
The General
“Me hand, I’m gonna ask ye for the first part of tonight’s test to do a terrible, terrible thing”
Power. That’s what people flock to when the chips are down. Generals lead a group of people to victory through reputation, a silver tongue, or pure strength. They gather in larger groups and delegate tasks to make sure things get done. They have responsibility to bolster their troops, keep order, and maybe sacrifice themself or others for the greater good.
Life Series Characters that fit this role: Ren, Gem, Skizz, and Grian
This archetype gets options like becoming stronger the more sanity you lose, building alliances faster and stronger, giving inspiring speeches for your allies, and stronger fighting when you're with your allies.
The Perceived
“You told me if I did everything you said, that there would be a place for us in the end.”
Something is watching. The Perceived have the unwelcome honor of having the watchers’ eyes on them constantly. They never lose the feeling that something is watching them just out of sight. Perceived players get a few consolation prizes from this attention, they understand the mechanics of the game more than the average player, and the watchers have left gifts of power that come at high costs.
Life Series Characters that fit this role: Martyn, Grian, and Scar
This archetype gives you a secret task given to you by the watchers, whether you are aware of it or not. Then, you have options like a sense of the supernatural, the ability to change dice rolls to affect the narrative, and stonger connection to the watchers.
The Loyal
“I know what’s gonna happen here. You’re gonna end up on the altar. I’m gonna be looking you in the eyes and they’re gonna sacrifice you. And I don’t want that, alright?”
Death is better than winning without them. The Loyal gains strength from helping their close knit group and will do anything to help them. They use this strength of conviction to overcome impossible obstacles, hold true to their sanity, and maybe even find small bits of joy in the games.
Life Series Characters that fit this role: Scott, Cleo, Skizz, and Etho
This archetype starts with a person you are loyal to above all else. Then you get options like the ability sacrifice yourself for your person, a way to harness memories of past lives to change the present, and a way to get back sanity points.
The Lonesome
“How did the guy with no friends win?”
Lone wolves are such a tragedy. In a game of loyalties and alliances, it’s only natural some would reject the status quo, or fall through the cracks. Lone wolves may have a variety of opinions about their situation, but they’ll make the most of it regardless. They will fight tooth and nail to get what they want, whether it’s victory or revenge, and bless the soul that tries to stop them.
Life Series Characters that fit this role: Joel, Scar, and Martyn
This archetype gets options like, fighting better when you're outnumbered, a better way to get secrets out of people to start rumors and gossip, better resource gathering, and a way to get information about the watchers.
The Deranged
“Call the dogs of war!”
The line between genius and insanity is a jump rope. The taste of blood sings to the Deranged longer before they're red. They can smell fear and hunt it. They call this death match a game for a reason and The Deranged revel in its chaos regardless of who might get in their way.
Life Series Characters that fit this role: Joel, Pearl, BigB, Martyn
This archetype get stronger the more insanity points you lose and something that is keeping you sane. You can sacrifice sanity points to save the thing you care about, like an ally, pet, or base, but doing so pushes you further and further off the edge. You also get options like improved fighting, intimidating presence, and an ability to remove sanity points from other people.
The Brawler
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
Punching people is stress relief. Brawlers are skilled in PvP and they know it. This is what they were built to do and others fear them for it. This takes not only physical strength, but strategy, and a reputation. That is what sets Brawlers apart from the rest.
Life Series Characters that fit this role: Gem, Martyn, and Joel
This archetype gets a signature weapon with special abilities. You also get options like doing extra damage and learning the weaknesses of other characters.
The Trapper
“I’m just gonna go big with this idea. You can laugh it off if you want to, but…what about ghast farms?”
Ah, I see you have fallen right into my trap. The Trapper is a commodity in the Life Games. These people use their technical skills and analytical thinking to create contraptions that make life easier for their allies and harder for everyone else.
Life Series Characters that fit this role: Mumbo, Etho, Joel, and Grian
This archetype gets options like a signature trap, a way to get back sanity, better ways to investigate, and more resources.
The Survivalist
"I just wish you were better at this game"
The only goal is to survive the day, and then the next, and then the next. Survivalists will lie, plot, run, hide, anything to live for another day. They are the cockroaches of the Life Series.
Life Series Characters that fit this role: Etho, Scott, Impulse
This archetype gets options like better healing, more inventory, better fighting against mobs and bosses, and an ambush attack.
Stats
There are 5 stats in RPG Life. Each stat is related to 1-2 basic moves that anyone can do and ranges from -1 to +3 max.
Grift: Charisma baby! This is the skill of understanding other people and getting them to do what you want.
Power: Strength and fighting prowess. Beat people up and gathering resources.
Cunning: Intelligent for those of you who are technically minded! This includes powers of observation and creativity building contraptions.
Escape: This stat represents your ability to act in tough situations and hide/get away from dangerous forces.
Weird: This is your connection to the watchers and ability to create magic like potions and enchantments.
Hybridization
This is an optional rule to make your own hybrid to play as. Mix and match a strength and a weakness depending on what type of hybrid you are.
For example
Avian Hybrid Strength: Flock/Herd instincts You build a nest/den in your base instead of a bed. When you nest together with a close ally (2+ alliance points) you both gain 1 sanity back. Weakness: Sensory Overload You are more sensitive to sound, light, touch, or smell. When in tense situations you must act under pressure to stay present and make moves.
This makes it so you can create hybrids that aren't as common or aren't categorized easily. You can start as a hybrid, become corrupted into one as you lose lives, or switch hybridization depending on the story you're telling and how much fun you're having.
Health and Healing
You have two health bars in this game! Health/hearts and sanity.
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You have seven hearts of health each life. Once you get down to three hearts you're wounds are too great and start affecting your rolls until you heal. Taking 4+ damage in one hit also knocks takes one sanity.
You have six sanity as well. You can lose sanity a couple of different ways like losing a close ally, failing an enchanting roll, or dying. The more allies you have the less likely you are to lose sanity, so build relationships to stay stable.
This is to reflect the way some players in the series get bloodthirsty once they hit red, while others stay fairly level-headed.
There are very few ways to regain sanity, so be careful.
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teddybeartoji · 5 months ago
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hi your writing is so cool and your aesthetic is so pretty i am nervous ksnsmzls you're one of my favorite writers!!
if its not a bother, may i ask how you got the confidence to write? any hints or something? thank you so much for the hard work you put into the blog, remember to stay hydrated and rest
have a nice day or night
AAAAAHHHH🥺🥺🥺 THANK YOU SOSO MUCH FOR THE LOVE MY ANGEL!!!!!!!!!!!! YOUR KIND WORDS ARE SOSO IMPORTANT TO ME SO TRULY THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU<333333
MMMMMMMM it's not so much about confidence for me as it is about Need honestly. i've always been a creative person i just never had the right outlet for it but now that i've discovered writing it just changed my world lmao i know that sounds very dramatic but it really is very important to me to express myself through art and writing is just the perfect way for me to do it. i want to write.
plus i have so many ideas in my head and tbh sometimes it's just about getting them out of there lmao but mm ofc there are times where i feel like my ideas are shit or that the writings are shit but then i think abt how mean that is. i liked writing it didn't i? so why am i putting myself down for it????? i try to be very patient with myself (it's a new thing i'm still getting the hang of it) and i try to just do whatever feels right.
and i know how discouraging tumblr might be sometimes,, like when the things you put hours into, blood sweat and tears and whatsoever, don't get the attention is very upsetting but i just... genuinely try to ignore it. i'm not saying it's easy it really fucking isn't but i just want to be selfish. and i want to write. so i will write more no matter whether it gets the love it deserves or not. i don't wanna stop and i don't wanna quit. think of it as spite if you will lmao like oh you didn't like that? well guess what. here's more>:333333 qhdhshdhsjjsjsj this is how my brain works okay i'm not saying that will work for everybody...
but yeah in the end just do it for yourself. you want to write, so write for yourself. the others are secondary – you have to love it first and then the others get to do the same.
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nochepsicodelica · 23 days ago
Text
"Really?" Toji asks, nudging your shoulder to wake you up, when he gets a good look at your back turned to him. His voice is slightly raspy with sleep, low in volume from its lack of use.
"Mm..." you hum in response, eyes shut as you try to ease back into slumber. You're in a curled position, your limbs wrapped around one of your extra pillows.
"Really?" Toji repeats, pawing at your shoulder, again.
"Yes, Toji," you say, quietly, not understanding what he's talking about, but agreeing just so that you can get back to sleep.
"Be serious, ma. Really?"
"What?" You ask, your tone somewhat laced with irritation, now.
It goes quiet for a few seconds, and then out of nowhere you hear the sheets rustling and the bed feels lighter. You're thinking there's no way he's so upset that he's leaving the room to sleep on the couch. He's the one who seemingly didn't want to cuddle, so you made do with what you had and grabbed a pillow.
You're snapped out of your attempt to go back to sleep when you feel your pillow trying to be yanked out of your arms.
"Let go of it," Toji mutters.
"What-" you grunt as you pull back and attempt to keep the pillow in your grasp. "What are you doing? Get back in bed, Toji." You hold on as tight as you can to the pillow that is slowly being torn out of your hands. "You're not gonna like when I let go and you're flung towards the wall."
"And you're not gonna like the punishment you earn if that happens. Let go of the pillow. Now."
You stare Toji down, holding your own against him. You know this isn't all of his strength and that he can easily rip the pillow out of your clutches, if he really wanted to, but like a dog with something it shouldn't have in its mouth, you're unwilling to do what he says.
"Listen up, doll, if you don't let go in the next five seconds, you're in for it."
"You're the one who pushed me away."
"Five."
"I need to hug something to sleep comfortably."
"Four."
"It's a pillow, Toji," you say, incredulously.
"Three."
"You're gonna take away my source of comfort?"
"Two."
"Toji."
"One. Let go."
"Oh my god," you groan, irritatedly. "Fine." You release the pillow, allowing Toji to take it away. You watch in disbelief as he throws it at the door so you can't get it without leaving the bed. You huff and scoot as close as you comfortably can to your end of the bed without falling off, before he returns to his side.
"Geeet back here." An arm is thrown over your waist, dragging you closer towards the center of the bed, until your back meets his front and his legs are tangled with yours. "Where are you going, huh? Still chasing after that pillow?"
"All of a sudden you wanna be close to me?" You scoff, in disbelief.
"So much attitude," he murmurs. His hand goes under your shirt, gliding up your warm skin to rest on your tummy. "Need me to give it to you all seven days, now?"
"No," you grumble.
"Well, that's what it's sounding like, to me." A kiss is planted on your shoulder. "Fix that tone, mama."
"You're so unfair. You're the one who didn't want to be held, but as soon as you noticed that I wasn't holding you, you took away my source of comfort. What did you want me to do, Toji?"
"I didn't even push you away, I rolled away in my sleep. It doesn't count."
You just hum in response, no longer in the mood to bicker about something so trivial when you could be working on getting back to sleep. A few seconds of silence go by, a spark of tension formed due to your lack of words.
"Ma?" He calls, barely pinching your soft, warm skin.
You sigh, blinking your eyes open. "What?"
"You mad?" His hand flattens on your tummy, rubbing slowly, as he waits for you to respond.
"No," you say, quiet and icy, even in its subtlety.
"That's a lie," Toji says, chuckling. "Come on, doll. What's got you all hot?"
It's hard not to melt into his touch. The kisses he presses to your shoulder only add on to the difficulty.
"Doesn't matter," you say, still trying to remain stoic.
"Yeah, it does. Now, tell me," he insists. "You're really gonna make me beg at almost two in the morning?"
"I was sleeping, and you woke me up 'cause you were butthurt over me hugging a pillow. There. Does that satisfy you?" You respond, and Toji has the audacity to laugh. You want to laugh too, but your stubbornness and pride will not easily allow you to.
"Poor baby," he coos, a mocking lilt to his tone. "You wanna tell me how to make it better?"
"You're an ass," you bite, no sharpness in your tone whatsoever.
"Ooh, I can hear that pout. You want a kiss? 'Cause I can give you one," he whispers, in your ear.
"Shut up," you mumble, trying not to give away the curling of your lips.
"You want a baby in here?" He asks, gently pressing into your stomach with his index finger.
"No! What?" You say, your giggles finally beginning to surface.
"Gotcha. Made you laugh," he says, pressing his face into the nape of your neck. He presses a kiss to the area before squeezing you in his arms, tight enough to make you groan until he eases up. "Now, tell me how to make it better. Come on, ma. It's not good to go to sleep mad."
You sigh, not wanting to argue with this annoying, yet, charming man, anymore. "Just help me get back to sleep," you mumble.
"Oh, I can do that," he says, a low chuckle homing into your ears. His hand lifts your shirt up more, aiming to get more access to your chest.
"Not like that, you perv!" You chide, pinning his hand on your mid-center. "Can you do that thing you always do?" You guide his hand down, until it rests just above your navel. He knows what you mean, and if this is what it takes for you to not be mad at him, he'll do it.
"You're like a baby that needs to be soothed to sleep," Toji murmurs, as he begins caressing your tummy, drawing little shapes on your skin that fuel your tiredness.
You huff out a laugh. "Acting like you don't drool and snore the second I start playing with your hair when you lay your head on my chest."
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deathbxnny · 1 month ago
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Maybe a part 2 of the arcane characters saying things they regret, but they're apologizing because I can't live after reading a angst 🫠
Making up with Arcane characters after a bad argument. | Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx, Ekko, Sevika x Gn!Reader
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(Previous part)
Fine, fine, here is a happy part two guys. Take it as an apology for the tears and pain I've caused.✨️
Content: Swearing, accusations of cheating, slight angst, making up, fluff, potential spoilers for season 2, established romantic relationships, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns!
((Not proofread))
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》VI
She knew that she had fucked up. There was no way to deny or refute it either. And your absence was further proof of that.
You were always there for her, even when things got bad and she became even worse. No matter how much she yelled or drank, you were there afterward to nurture her back to health. It was so unfair of her to expect it still, after all she had said to you. She hated herself. She hated how weak and pathetic she had become. How she can't even stand straight anymore from the alcohol and couldn't win a single game since she had lost you.
And instead of Caitlyn haunting her like she used to, it was only you now. But you were crying every time. Asking her why she hated you so much. Why she couldn't care for you the way you cared for her. Why you were always the second choice despite having been there since the start.
Why, why, why.
Gritting her teeth against the headache, she made her way through the dark, familiar lanes to your small home that you once shared together. She had to talk to you. She really, really had to. Even if it's far too late now after a week of silence in-between the two of you. She had taken the time to reflect and think about everything, especially about your relationship. And it made her realise that nothing in this world was losing you too.
Knocking on your door, she nervously waited as she heard your footsteps quickly approaching her from inside. You opened the door carefully, ironically just how she had taught you, before freezing at the sight of her. She gave you a weak smile, attempting to look calm and friendly, but it still scared you off. "Hey cupca-" You tried slamming the door into her face mid greeting, but her foot was faster to jam itself in the way.
"H-Hey! Wait, please hear me out!" "Fuck off, Vi. I'm not in the mood to hear more of your bullshit. Go back to Caitlyn since I know how badly you want that!" You never cursed, and every word you spoke made her flinch. She, for some reason, didn't expect you to be this mad. But it hurt, and she deserved it. Another thing she underestimated was, unfortunately, your strength since you somehow managed to push her away and shut the door again. "Come on! Please! I... I didn't mean what I said. I just... have been losing my shit ever since what happened. The guilt is killing me, and I know it's not an excuse! You're right, I have to stop this shit! You're right, I need to stop treating your love for granted!"
She didn't know if you were even listening to her anymore, but it didn't stop the tears that burned in her eyes. "I don't give a damn about Caitlyn like that! I never did! It always you for me. You... you cared for me when no one else ever wanted to, and I was such an idiot for not appreciating it more." Her hand slammed against the wood in defeat, her head coming to rest against it as her body trembled. She was so scared of losing you. This can't be the end. "Please. Please just give me another chance to prove myself. I know I'm a fuck up but I swear I'll do better now."
Vi nearly fell right through your house entrance when you opened the door wide with a teary huff. "God, you're such an idiot... get in already before the neighbors complain." You didn't let her reply as you simply dragged her inside and locked the door again. The pitfighter watched you do so with a gentle gaze, one that felt so familiar to you. "... Fine, I'll give you another chance... but no drinking or fighting anymore. Please." You whisper to her, and she nods quickly before engulfing you in a warm hug.
She knows that she isn't fully forgiven yet, but she'll do everything in her power to prove herself worthy of your love again.
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》CAITLYN
"You're still up." Caitlyn's voice was calm and gentle now, so different from the stern and cold tone it had before. You ignored her, however, knowing better than to fall for this again. She always got like this when she knew she had screwed up and was trying to crawl back into your good graces. But this time around, you didn't allow it that easily. You refused to speak to her if she hadn't come back to apologize. And yet... you couldn't help but allow yourself at least one sharp dig at her. "And you're late to bed once again. But I suppose Officer Nolan's 'report' was just that interesting, no?" You were perhaps the only person in all auf Pultover that could ever accuse her of something so scandalous as adultery and get away with it.
It certainly would have been amusing if Caitlyn didn't feel so sick at the thought of you believing that.
Sighing, she placed her hat onto a clothing hanger, her jacket following suit. You were facing away from her on the bed, trying to read a book and rest, despite the pain in your heart. It was hard being angry at her when you loved her so deeply. But her insults had struck much deeper than that.
The bed dipped behind you, and soon enough, you felt her strong arms surrounding your body and her nose tickling your cheek. "I'm sorry, my love. I really am. I... have lost my cool, and that was wrong of me." You scoffed at her words, finding them too shallow for the pain she had caused earlier. Yet you struggled to get out of her strong grasp on you. It felt desperate. And you hated the warmth and security that it made you feel. "If that is all you have to say, then you can leave." You hissed out weakly but couldn't find any malice in it. Just heartbreak, that solidified in more tears burning in your eyes. "Because how... how could you ever say that I could betray you? Do you know how that makes me feel? Do you care?"
Caitlyn hummed against the nape of your neck soothingly, a way to acknowledge the plight she had caused you without revealing her own tears. The grief had made her into a monster. A monster that hurt its friends, family, and most importantly, you. It was unforgivable, and yet she wanted to prove herself worthy of you anyway. She wanted to show you that she hadn't changed deep down like everyone claimed. She was still yours.
"... I will find a way to end this war and resolve it peacefully as soon as I can. I swear it to you." She began, her voice low and gentle, as she listened to the sound of your hiccups and sniffling. This wasn't what she wanted. "And I apologize, truly, for what I called you... I know that you are loyal and trustworthy. Much more than I ever could be... I'm still your Caitlyn." The last part was whispered quietly, as she tried everyone in her power to not break down in front of you like this.
She hated what she had become deep down. She knew it was wrong and that her mother must've been turning in her grave at the sight of what she had done. But what she couldn't handle at all was you hating and leaving her.
There was a moment of silence before you turned to face her and immideatly hugged her impossibly close as you cried into her arms. She rubbed your back lovingly, understanding that this was your way of accepting her apology. But forgiveness will still be a long journey she was willing to take.
For now, she'd rest in your embrace thankfully.
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》JINX
Deep down, you knew that she didn't mean what she said. She never would do anything to hurt you. Silco's death was just killing her more than anyone could have expected, and it was hard for everyone to deal with. But you just couldn't take the pain and hurt she caused you anymore. You've been there since day one. You were always at her side. You always took care of her when no one else wanted to. And you understood her better than she did herself. But it was ultimately just not enough. Or so you thought.
The young girl that was now dragging you through the lanes reminded you of her too. She didn't speak a word to you, and for some reason, you didn't have it in you to protest against her odd actions either. She somehow seemed to recognize you the second you bumped into her. And that was enough for her to take your hand and lead you to a very familiar hideout. Perhaps it was fate that brought you here again when you needed Jinx the most.
"Hey kid, who's our little guest-?" The rest of the young woman's words died on her tongue, and it left you simply staring at each other. There was a familiar haze in her eyes, one that you often saw when the voices were taking over. She once mentioned that you sometimes became a part of her hallucinations during longer absences, and that reminder alone made your heart ache. You shouldn't have run away that day. But what other choice did you have? She didn't trust you anymore. She didn't think you should be together anymore. Why were you even here?
"S-sorry... I'm just going to leave..." You muttered as your ears rung and that familiar burning in your eyes made your sight blurry. You felt suffocated and somehow also angry, wishing she could just see how much you loved and cared for her. But just as you were turning away to run again, her strong hand was quicker and held you back by your arm. "Wait. Let's just... talk, alright? Like we always do?" That was your thing. Whenever things got bad, you'd sit down and talk calmly to her about it. She used to scoff at it every time... yet she was the one who suggested now for once. Something about it shook you so hard that it made the first tears finally spill at the recognition she had given you for all the work you've put into her.
Jinx panicked a little at that, unsure of how to comfort you, yet at Isha's stern frown and cross of her small arms, she just hugged you for the first time in a while. And god, did she miss it.
Perhaps it was good to show the little girl a picture of you after all.
"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, I swear, sweetie! I... I won't ever say stuff like that again. Just don't leave me. Please don't leave me. I just, I was just-" You hushed her by just hugging her tighter and shaking your head. "It's okay... just hold me for a while. We can talk later... I missed you so much." You whispered, voice breaking into sobs. Jinx hummed weakly and sighed against your hair, the familiar scent making her relax and feel better at last.
Isha grinned to herself behind you before quickly sneaking off to let you talk things out.
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》EKKO
To say that the entire firelight hideout was pissed at him would be an understatement. Absolutely everyone disagreed with the way he treated you, and the side eyes he got very much confirmed this. But the worst part of it all was definitely you avoiding him like the plague.
Every time he entered a room, you were the first one to leave in a hurry. Every time he tried speaking to you, you either ignored him or found an excuse to get away. Every time someone even mentioned his name to you, your mood seemed to dampen. And that hurt so much that it killed him. This isn't how he wanted you to feel about him. He was your boyfriend, damnit it. Yet he acknowledged that he was failing at his job way more than he should've allowed himself to. He had to fix this somehow.
Ekko couldn't just lose you over his own foolishness. You were the one person who motivated him to keep going even on his worst days. You were the light he fought for. The person he battled to come home to every day. He couldn't handle your absence any longer, especially at night when he laid wide awake in your empty bed without you.
And so, he finally had enough and cornered you one night up in the tree during a patrol you had together. One, he definitely didn't pull the strings for to happen. And ever the one to abide by his orders despite your current dismay, you were now avoiding his gaze whilst you watched your sleeping home below. It was peaceful and calm, but the pain lingered between you two too much to enjoy the moment. He didn't know how to break the deafening silence, and it made him think of backing out on his initial plan... until you surprised him by speaking up first.
"I'm... sorry for avoiding you. I didn't mean for this to become your last resort. I just... didn't want to be a burden anymore." "Wait, wait, wait... who said that you were a burden, I... I should be the one apologizing right now. Because I was wrong about every fucking thing I said to you." The words spilled out in panic at the mere thought of you blaming yourself. He never wanted you to feel like this. It made him feel even worse about himself. This wasn't right. "You're not useless. You do so much for us, for me, and I take it all for granted like the asshole I am! And I fully acknowledge that now... I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. There is no excuse for it." He shook his head in disappointment at himself, wondering if this was it now. He'd understand if you broke up with him now... but instead, you seemed to be in the mood to surprise him alot today.
"Did you... like the food I made you?" He blinked at your question in confusion, yet answered honestly. "Best thing I had all week." "Then I guess I'll forgive you... just don't do that again." Ekko chuckled weakly at your words, relief filling his senses whilst he pulled you close to press a kiss to your head. "Would never dream of it... wanna ditch patrol and fly around town?" You mirrored his sly smile, glad he had the same thing on his mind as you did. "Sure thing. But let's make it a race."
He let you win.
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》SEVIKA
She took some time to cool off after your argument and returned later into the night with a clearer mind. Sevika had actually reflected on what you had said to her, and she knew you were ultimately right. She was extremely overprotective and stubborn, two things that didn't mesh well and often ended in her thinking you couldn't take care of yourself. Even if she knew better than to actually believe that.
You were strong, especially mentally. It's what drew her into you to begin with. But with the fall of Silco and a war being on the verge of breaking out against Piltover, she had no choice but to make sure that you never left her sight. And if you did, then you had to be somewhere she knew was safe and away from all the chaos she dealt with daily. It helped her focus and stay calm to know that you're okay. Yet despite how much she cared, she still fucked it all up for herself again.
And now she had to fix it, something she was never good at.
She felt awfully guilty at the sight of the things you've lovingly prepared for her, now laying forgotten and cold on the kitchen counter. She truly didn't deserve someone as kind as you. And yet she considered herself too selfish to let you go.
Slowly approaching the bedroom door, she paused to hear if you were awake or not. Unfortunately, you were, but she only knew this from the faintest sound of your sniffling and sobbing that drifted through the wooden door. Sighing to herself, she knocked once, deciding to just rake things slow and as calmly as possible. You had sustained an injury after all, and her mind was reeling at the thought of it getting worse without any proper care. "What do you want?!" Your weak voice yelled at her, and it made her frown. Yeah, you were definitely beyond pissed.
"I want to talk." Her gruff voice said, and it may have sounded like a demand if the underlying care and worry didn't overshadow it so clearly. Your silence made her initially think you were ignoring her until the door slowly opened and revealed your disheveled form. "... well, go ahead." You muttered, one hand cradling the side of your hip that was clumsily bandaged up by you. You were never good at stuff like that.
"Let me take care of the wound whilst we're at it. Can't have ya dying on me because of an infection." She sighed out before simply dragging you to your shared bed and pulling out your medkit. You didn't protest or complain and let her do as she pleased, whilst you carefully listened to her speak with an unreadable expression.
"Listen. I... get it. I really do. The way I treat you isn't right, and I know you're grown enough to take care of yourself, but... I can't risk losing you too now. It drives me crazy to think about. Even if that ain't much of an excuse, and I get that too." She was never this honest before. Usually, she simply deflected or blamed someone else. But here she was, for once admitting openly to being the problem. "Just... be more careful out there. That's all I ask of you. I won't comment on it otherwise anymore though, unless you're in serious danger. I promise." Finishing the last of her bandaging, she hummed at it now looking much securer. This way, you are sure to recover much faster.
Taking a deep breath, you nodded your head at her words, deciding to give her another chance to prove herself. You understood where she was coming from after all. "Okay, fine. I'll accept your apology... if you help me cook." She grinned at that slightly with a casual shrug. "Fine by me, if I get a taste of your heavenly cooking, sweetheart."
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bi-writes · 5 months ago
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simon being protective of his mail order bride scratches all the right spots in my brain.
mail-order bride
you're almost relieved when you hear the knock at the door. you've been a holding a tree pose for a few minutes too long, and the girl hosting the online yoga class is starting to fry your eardrums with her too-perky voice.
you're sweating bullets, and her hair hasn't moved a fucking inch out of her ponytail.
you mute the television, wiping your forehead before making your way to the front door. you open it with a sigh, not really knowing what you expected to see, but it certainly wasn't the average-dressed man standing on the steps there.
you blink, raising a brow when his eyes roam over you, and you realize suddenly that you're wearing workout clothes, which is showing off a little more than you'd like to some rando standing on your doorstep.
"uh..." you look around a little. "i'm sorry, can i help you?"
he smiles. it's a little unnerving.
"right, yeah, i'm starting a business around here, and i wanted to ask if you've been needing any help with any fixtures around the house. i'm giving a 50% discount if you give me a rating on google."
you open your mouth for a moment, frowning.
"uhm..." you shake your head, "sorry. we don't need any help right now."
"you live here alone? sometimes it's hard to spot when the electric's on the piss, y'know? need a keen eye," he laughs, coming up one of the steps. you shake your head again.
"no, thanks."
he's a wiry man, but he's tall (not taller than your husband, but taller than you). you step back a little and start to close the door. he comes up the steps. out of the corner of your eye, you see the cat slip out between your legs, hissing a little as the distance closes between you and the man.
"wait! can i give you my contact info? i don't have a card, but i can leave you my--"
the sound of simon's truck pulling into the garage gets both of you to look behind. simon doesn't even park all the way inside. he throws the truck door open, stepping out of it, and the man on your steps moves back away from you immediately, making his way off the little porch.
simon looks huge, more so than ever. his steps are heavy, boots hitting the ground like a warning bell, and he's wearing just a short-sleeved shirt that's showing off those glorious fucking arms. you have never doubted simon's strength, but he looks like he could flip a car with the anger that's leaving him in heavy waves. you're surprised that you are not afraid; you just know somehow that simon won't touch you.
"oi!" simon yells, and the man definitely understands he picked the wrong fucking house to be a creepy salesman at when his knees nearly buckle as he tries to walk away. "where the fuck do y'think y'r goin', you twat?"
you sigh deeply, not realizing how much you were shaking until you notice your hands trembling around the doorknob. you watch as simon catches the guy by his dirty jean jacket, nearly lifting him completely off his feet as he drags him towards the fence gate.
"hey! hey! i didn't do anything!"
"i saw ya, ya fuckin' arse, know exactly wot the fuck y'were doin'," simon growls, tossing him onto the sidewalk. he hits the pavement with a cry, holding onto his arm, and simon slams the fence gate closed before pointing at him accusingly. "'f i ever see ya anywhere near m'fuckin' house or even askin' m'wife for so much as fuckin' directions, i'll cut y'r bloody prick off, y'hear?"
you blink as simon comes closer, the cat retreating back into the house once they see him. he keeps walking, crowding you back into the house before he shuts and locks the front door. his chest is heaving, black t-shirt doing nothing to hide the puff of his chest and how large he makes himself when he stands up to other men. he doesn't even need to make himself larger; simon takes up enough space for two men combined.
"he touch you?" simon asks, his voice low. you see his fists clench, and you have no doubt that if you said yes, simon would go outside and paint the pavement a new color with the man's face.
you shake your head frantically, and he lets out a deep breath, reaching up and wrapping a hand around the back of your head and pulling you close.
he bends, pressing his masked forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he breathes in slowly. he rubs at the nape of your neck, soothing you, and you smile when he pulls away, giving him those big eyes that say thank you, thank you, thank you.
simon cocks his head, staring behind you, and you turn with him to see the cat blinking slowly at the two of you from it's place on the windowsill.
"should get you a fucking guard dog instead," simon mutters, pulling his mask off and kicking his boots into the corner. you smile as he walks away, trying to cool your warm cheeks with the backs of your hands.
doesn't he know you already have one?
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pedroscurls · 3 months ago
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in every lifetime
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summary: you lost logan in this universe. logan lost you in his. what happens when you both see each other again, but realize that you're both from different worlds? pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader warnings: post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), angst (mentions of death, loss from both reader and logan), no use of y/n. word count: 2.1k a/n: this is my first logan fic, so if anything is ooc, i'm sorry in advanced! just like everyone else, i've been obsessed with hugh jackman / logan after watching deadpool & wolverine (if it isn't obvious lol)... i had the song 'unchained melody' in mind when writing this story because whenever i hear it, i think of logan for some reason lol (tried to embed it but it didn't work, but i'd highly recommend listening to the song while reading this!) anyway, hope you enjoy! next part.
“I’ll be back.”
“But what if–”
“I always come back, bub.” Logan’s looking down at you, hand cupping your cheek. In moments like this, you can see the age in his features. The crows feet at the corners of his eyes. The gray in his hair and beard. 
“Logan…” Tears sting your eyes. You know he has to leave, has to go help Charles, but there’s a feeling deep in your gut that knows that if he goes, he isn't coming back. 
“Wait for me, then.” He says, dipping down to gently peck your lips. “Okay? Wait for me.” 
“Logan,” you repeat. “What do I do if I– if I lose you?” 
There’s a feeling in the pit of Logan’s stomach, a sense of dread and fear that he’s only ever felt when you were concerned. This feels a lot like a goodbye… That maybe if he does go, he won’t come back. And the thought alone scares him. He never used to have to think about the possibility of dying, his regenerative powers always healing him in record time, but he knows that he doesn’t heal as quickly as before. He feels more pain now than he ever had. And he knows he’s sick, knows that the adamantium that once gave him strength is now slowly making him weaker.
But now, the thought of dying… It fucking scared him. It scared him to think that he’d leave you here, all alone, grieving him. He had never thought he’d be deserving of someone like you, to be loved and taken care of so gently, so sweetly, so patiently. Even with all of the baggage he carried, you never pushed. He knew, right off the bat, that you deserved someone so much better than him, but you stayed. 
Through it all, you stayed. 
And Logan would forever be grateful. After everything he’s been through, the things he’s seen, the things he had to do, the people he’s lost, you gave him a life that was finally worth living. 
“Then, you move on, darlin’.” Logan finally answers. 
“And if I can’t?” 
“You’ll have to.” 
“I don’t… I don’t want you to go, but I know that you have to. Charles needs you and–”
“I love you with every fiber of my being, baby,” Logan interjects. “And I will love you in every lifetime.” 
And that was almost a year ago. The moment he stopped calling, you knew that was it. That he either got into some real trouble or… Or that he was no longer here. It wasn’t until a young girl named Laura showed up on your doorstep, holding his dog tags that your assumptions were correct. 
You had fallen to your knees, a sob escaping your lips, as you felt your world come crashing down. Logan’s death had left a gaping hole in your heart, in your life, and everywhere you looked and everywhere you went, all you could see was him. 
You learned from Laura that during his last moments, he had told her to come and find you, that you would take care of her and give her a good life. Whenever you were around her, you tried to be strong, tried to put on a brave front, but behind closed doors, you were a complete mess. There were days where you didn’t want to get out of bed, didn’t want to eat; you just wanted the pain to stop. Every night, whenever you closed your eyes, you forced yourself to sleep because that was the only place where you could be with him. 
In your dreams, he was alive. 
In your dreams, he had made it back home.
In your dreams, he was here with you, helping raise Laura. 
And every time you woke up, you were welcomed with the sudden reality that he wasn’t alive. He wasn’t coming back home. He wasn’t ever going to be here with you to help raise Laura. 
Logan was dead and now, you had to try and learn how to move on. 
For yourself.
For Laura.
For Logan. 
He didn’t know what he was doing here, why he agreed to stay with Wade because it was driving him crazy. This wasn’t even his timeline; he wasn’t even meant to be here. Despite saving Wade’s timeline, Logan still found it hard to fit in. He tried to keep Wade and every single one of his friends at an arm's distance because he knows what happens to people he cares about. 
But the more time he spent around them, the more he felt at ease. Logan would be lying if he said he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but when Laura mentioned your name at one of Wade’s family dinners, his heart skipped a beat. When he realized he would be able to stay in this timeline, you were all he could think about. 
Logan wondered if you existed in this world and what he would do if you did. So, when Laura casually said your name, his head turned around so quickly that he felt dizzy. There were so many things he regretted in his own timeline, but you were his biggest regret. 
Just like he failed the other X-men, Logan had failed you too. You had been there with the other X-men, trying to warn them of a planned attack and ended up getting caught in the crossfire. You had called out for him, just like Scott, like Charles, like Storm. 
He managed to get to you before you had taken your last breath, holding you in his arms. Logan begged and begged for you to fight, that he’d do things right from now on as long as you just held on, but you were losing so much blood and Logan couldn’t stop it. 
Even then, when you had every right to be angry with him, you gazed up at him with an understanding look on your face. You had always been so patient and kind, so sweet and considerate. You had made him so happy and it scared him, which ultimately ended in pushing you away because he didn’t think he was deserving of it. Of you. 
“I love you, Logan,” you had said, wincing at the pain. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m–” Logan felt a sob catch in his throat, tears stinging his eyes as he looked down at you. “Please, baby, please please please, don’t–”
“I–” you coughed, eyes fluttering as you felt the pain overcome your entire body. “I will love you in every lifetime, Logan.” And then, you took your last breath, eyes falling shut and body falling limp in his arms. 
Since then, Logan drank himself day after day, from dawn to dusk. The alcohol never truly helped, his regenerative powers sobering him so fast, but with every swig of liquor, it burned. And he spent years bringing pain unto others, including himself. 
That was, until he met Wade who had given him a chance, a reason to fight for something… To not turn his back on someone who relied on him. A chance for redemption, to finally make things right. 
“So, will you meet her?” Laura asks, holding Dogpool in her arms as she gazes up at Logan. “She– She used to be with this universe’s Logan and…”
“No chance, kid.” Logan interrupts, shaking his head. “I’m not him.” 
“Did you have someone like her in yours?” she asks. “She’s always put me first, always made sure I was taken care of even when she didn’t have to, when she was grieving. And I think–” Laura sighs. “I think if she knows that some version of you is alive, it would make her real happy.”
“I’m not him,” Logan growls, feeling his irritation spike. “‘Sides, she’s better off without me.” He stands from the table and walks out into Wade’s balcony to get some fresh air, shutting the door behind him as he leans against the railing.
“But she’s coming tonight,” Laura finally says, long after Logan’s walked away.
Throughout the rest of the dinner, Logan remains outside. He can hear the muffled laughter coming from inside and it only angered him because it was just another confirmation that he didn’t belong here. He’s already on his fourth bottle of beer when he hears a familiar voice, smells a recognizable scent. He turns slightly and catches you stepping into Wade’s apartment, an arm slinging over Laura’s shoulders so casually, so maternally. 
He feels his heart rate pick up. Your smile still lights up a room and he can’t help but his lips turning upwards at the sight. With his enhanced hearing, Logan can hear your voice and he shuts his eyes for a moment, tuning all of his attention on you until you’re the only one he hears. 
Then, he hears your laugh and he lets out a sigh. He never thought he’d be able to hear that again, but his eyes shoot open when he hears you say his name. There’s a shocked tone in your voice, laced with sadness and hope. It all but crushes him because he knows that you’re probably expecting someone else, expecting this world’s Logan and he doesn’t want to disappoint you. Not again. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle it if he were to hurt you again. 
But when he looks at you, his breath catches in his throat when your eyes meet his. Logan notices the surprise look on your face, but before he could try and escape, you’re already walking towards him. When you open the door and step out with him, your scent fills his senses and it makes him dizzy, like he can’t fully concentrate. 
“You…” he hears you say, voice unsteady. “You’re not… I’m–” you sigh and shake your head. 
“I know who you are,” Logan finally says, his own voice shaky. 
Your hands reach out for him, but stopping halfway when you realize this isn’t your Logan. This is not the same man who died all those years ago. This is some version of him – much younger, less wrinkles and gray hairs in his hair and beard, but he still has that same look on his face. The scowl. 
“From Laura?” you ask hesitantly. 
“From my universe,” Logan answers. 
“There– There’s a version of me in your universe?” 
“There was.”
“And what happened to me?” 
Logan’s jaw tightens. “The same thing that happened to your Logan in this universe.”
“Oh.” Your face drops, eyes softening. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. 
Logan wants to run far from here, far from you because he feels himself yearning for more. He almost forgot how it felt like to be near you, to be inches away that he can just reach out and pull you into his arms. Your eyes captivate him, the kindness it expresses makes him feel like he matters. You had always made him feel that way that even through all of his anger, through all of the walls he put up, you showed him that he was deserving of something good. Even if he didn’t believe it himself. 
And you… You were the best thing to ever happen to him.
“Don’t know why you’re apologizin’,” Logan mutters. 
There’s an uncomfortable silence that engulfs the both of you. He can see the tears threatening to spill over, can see the way your lower lip is beginning to tremble and he has this sudden urge to console you, to wipe away the tears that have now fallen down your cheeks. 
“I’m sorry,” you repeat, bringing your hands up to wipe away the tears that seem to be trickling down your face nonstop. “I just– Losing my Logan just crushed me and I don’t think I’ve ever recovered.” 
My Logan. 
Logan can practically feel his heart beating in his chest. This isn’t a conversation that he thought he would be having and certainly not with someone he loved and died because of him. 
“That’s okay,” Logan responds quietly, his tone softening. “I don’t think it’s easy to recover from losing someone you love.”
“Did you– Did you love me in your universe?” 
Logan nods slowly, tightening his jaw as he gazes down at you. “With every fiber of my being.” 
Your eyes widen and stare up at him. This might be a different Logan, but hearing those words again just brings you back to the moment you last saw your Logan before he left to go take care of Charles. 
“Did you love me in yours?” Logan asks hesitantly.
You nod instantly, tears trickling down your cheek as you stare up at him. “I’d love you in every lifetime.” 
Logan feels his own set of tears pool at the corners of his eyes and he moves a hand to rest on the railing, fingers lightly brushing against yours as he stares into your eyes. 
“I’m not him,” he whispers. 
“I know,” you say quietly. “And I’m not her.” 
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chuluoyi · 6 days ago
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄
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xavier x reader
while the entire kingdom of philos rejoices over the soon-to-be-born heir to the throne, the king’s unwavering priority remains clear: his queen
genre/warnings: mildly suggestive, fluff, fluff, fluff, comfort, king!xavier and queen!reader, pregnancy, spoilers! from xavier's myth shooting stars and taking elements of xavier's card silvery polyphony
note: i'm not actually a xavier girlie... but ever since his myth and anecdote when shooting stars fall, he's been marinating in my head :')
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“Your Majesty, here are the gifts meant for the Queen by the townsfolk.”
Xavier’s gaze swept over the various trinkets that filled the throne room—from fine fabrics and glistening pearls, to handwritten messages with heartfelt wishes for the future royal baby and your wellbeing. He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face.
"All this? You’ve inspected every single one of them?" he questioned, gaze flicked to Jeremiah, his aide. His cerulean eyes narrowed slightly. "Nothing with malicious intent?"
Jeremiah shook his head with a smile. "No. They are purely tokens of love and respect for Her Majesty."
"I see..."
Xavier hummed softly, the stiffness in his posture easing as the assurance settled over him—no harm would come to you. In the fifth year of your reign as King and Queen of Philos, it had become clear that the people had come to adore their queen to such an extent.
As they should. The king found himself smiling despite his usual composure then. You were due their respect for all of your service and compassion. And now, with you carrying the future heir to the throne, it was even more deserved.
"Has the Queen been well? She hasn't been around much," Jeremiah asked, a knowing look crossed his face. "After all, you're counting down the days now..."
With the royal physician declaring you were at full-term, you could give birth any day now. Xavier would be lying if he said he wasn't antsy, but the least he could do in front of his subjects was showing an air of indifference.
But of course, Jeremiah knew him best after you.
"Why don't you pay her a visit? And oh, yeah, I think I've heard the maids saying Her Majesty is missing having the King serenading her!"
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Your husband had been busy these past few days that he had little time to spend with you each day.
Of course, you missed him. There wasn’t much you could do while in confinement. And so when he entered your chambers on this windy winter day, you were more enthusiastic than you should have—
“Xavier!” You turned to him and smiled so brightly, your excitement making you rise to your feet and scamper towards him.
But he was faster, closing the distance in an instant and catching you before you could take more than a few steps. His hands steadied you, as the heavy weight in your womb proved to be a challenge.
“You’re supposed to be on bedrest,” he scolded, a frown tugging at his features. His hands rested firmly on your shoulders, holding you in place. “Don’t move around too much.”
“I’m fine, I’m fine!” You giggled as he led you to your bed, but before you could settle in, a sharp wave of pain rippled through your abdomen and spine. The smile faltered on your lips as you sucked in a quick breath, instinctively leaning into him for support.
“What's wrong?” Xavier’s voice tensed with concern, his arm tightening around you as his eyes widened in alarm. His free hand hovered protectively over yours, which was clutching your swollen belly. "Is it hurting? I’ll call for—"
“No, no!” You declined amidst your labored breaths, mustering up a smile despite the discomfort. “I’ve consulted the royal physician. It’s perfectly normal for me to experience this... I just have to bear it.”
“How is this normal?” Xavier's brow furrowed with worry and sternness. “If this keeps up, how will you preserve your strength for the real labor?”
He had always detested seeing you in distress. It was evident in all his actions, from the earliest moments of your relationship to this very day, and it made your heart warm.
When the pain subsided, you made him sit on your bed and brought both your hands to cup his face, trying to coax a smile from him.
"Don't worry too much, love." You grinned, eyes crinkling. "On the bright side, it just means that our little star is thiiis close to meeting us."
Xavier found your gaze and for a moment, he stayed silent. His clear blue eyes softened as they held yours. You had always been like this—diminishing your own discomfort in favor of reassuring him, and if you thought it would make him feel better, then you were sorely wrong because his instincts to protect you were deeply engraved in him, and it only fueled his concern further.
His hands settled over yours, pressing them to his face.
“From what I’ve seen, this baby really enjoys bullying you,” he muttered sullenly.
You pursed your lips. “A friendly reminder, you’re the one who got me with child.”
“I’ve always thought that sexual act is the pinnacle of showing the depths of my undying loyalty towards you.” His tone was mock-serious, the edge of a grin tugging at his lips. “The baby is a pleasant gift, what I enjoy more though—”
Before you could protest, his fingers skimmed over your figure, landing with unmistakable familiarity on your ample breasts—
“I like these the most.”
“Xavier!” You swatted his hand away with wide eyes, crossing both arms over your chest in an attempt to block him from further groping.
He chuckled openly at how defensive you were, a playful glint in his eyes. With a soft pat on your head, he stood up and extended his right hand towards you.
“What?” You stared at his hand, almost squeaking, wary that his hands might wander to your sensitive skin again. Xavier let out another chuckle, clearly amused by your reaction.
“I’ve heard through the grapevine that Her Majesty the Queen wants me to serenade her,” he said with a teasing smile. “And as your humble servant, who am I to refuse?”
. . .
You has always adored how Xavier plays the piano.
He claimed he didn't like the instrument that much, but the way his fingers moved over the keys so effortlessly, each note flowing with such precision—it was one of the many ways he captured your heart.
You sat next to him by the grand piano, your head gently bobbing along with the beautiful rhythm he drew from the keys.
“You used to play this a lot back then,” you commented as Xavier started playing the piece he composed himself, one you often referred as ‘his very own soundtrack.’
Celestial Serenade. Xavier even had a name for it. Solemn and playful, it was the beginning that always got your heart racing. But when he reached the bridge, a gnawing sadness would creep in, tugging at your heart.
And suddenly, in that moment, you had an epiphany.
From the days you had loved him as a student in the Academy, and then as a knight and your crown prince, those lonely years of waiting for him to come back the first time, until that decisive heartbreaking day when you let him go into the unknown once and for all—
—and those gruelling, painful years of waiting that followed afterwards… up until the day he finally came back to restore Philos, to retake his throne, and to make you his queen in the truest sense—
Tears pricked at your eyes at the flashback of everything the two of you had gone through, right after he finished the outro.
Xavier paused, his fingers still on the keys. He turned to you, but his eyes widened as he noticed the tears spilling from your eyes. “Why are you crying?”
“Nothing, I’m just—” Startled, you quickly wiped the tears from your face, but Xavier gently lifted your chin, his touch soft but insistent.
He was worried, his gaze searching yours as if he was struggling to find the right words, his eyes full of concern. “Tell me,” he urged quietly, the hint of a tremor in his voice. “What is it? What made you cry?”
How could you explain what you had just realized— the weight of all that had brought you to this moment? The journey, the sacrifices, the love that had never faltered even in the darkest of times?
And it all culminated into one single sentence, as you stared right into those beautiful eyes of his:
“I love you, Xavier.”
In that very second, Xavier could’ve sworn his heart was entirely in your grasp. His breath caught, and the world around him seemed to fade, leaving only you—your teary-eyed confession and the raw honesty in your gaze.
Through countless dawns and twilights, through many starry sea expeditions and a daring voyage to the past— everything he had done to protect you. All these long years of yearning to see you again had led to this precise moment, where happiness was finally within your reach.
To know his beloved returns his feelings in full… He was overwhelmed by love you gave him, it made his heart so, so full.
Xavier cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears that streaked your cheeks. “Don't cry, you big crybaby. Save it for when we welcome our child later.”
You sniffled, frowning at him. “So, you don’t love me?”
A soft smile played on his lips as he pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in his warmth. He buried his face in the crook of your shoulder.
“Silly... I love you more than anything in this world.”
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Three days later, you went into labor.
The palace descended into chaos, with attendants scurrying through the halls. But amidst all the commotion, Xavier was the one who struggled the most to maintain his composure.
Your cries from behind the doors felt like a blade slicing through his chest. He wanted nothing more than to rush in, to hold your hand, to do something—anything—but the midwives had firmly insisted that he stay out of the way.
Xavier’s mind raced with worry, his eyes fixed on the door as though sheer willpower could ease your pain. The only thing that mattered right in this moment was you and the child you were bringing into the world—and it was taking everything in him not to lose his wits.
Then, amidst his fervent prayers, hours later, a piercing cry broke through.
Xavier froze, his heart lurching. Relief and disbelief flooded him all at once as he realized—it was his baby's first cry.
But what about you?
He so desperately wanted to see you that Jeremiah had to physically restrain him. The women assured him you and the baby were being tended to.
When they finally allowed him inside, he rushed in so quickly he nearly stumbled.
There you were, seated on the bed, hair disheveled, exhaustion etched into every line of your face, yet to him, you were radiant—utterly so. His heart swelled as he watched you cradle the newborn, cooing with a tenderness that stole his breath.
“Now, say hi to Papa...”
Your voice was almost feather-like, yet it was in that moment the truth hit him with full force—his baby was really here. He stared at the tiny bundle in your arms, awestruck, before his gaze shifted to your pale face again.
And you smiled at him so brilliantly. So warmly.
“Xavier... say hello to our son.”
He felt like he was in a daze as he slowly kneeled and took the baby into his arms. The small, fragile weight felt both unfamiliar and extraordinary. This child— was a part of him, but most importantly, he was a part of you too.
The baby stirred, and when his eyes blinked open, Xavier’s breath hitched. Those tiny blue eyes, a mirror of his own, locked onto him.
“Ah, he—” Xavier faltered, his chest tightening as emotions overwhelmed him. Holding his son, seeing him so clearly now, felt like an arrow straight to his heart. Before this moment, he hadn’t thought much about how the baby might look. But now, he couldn’t help marveling at the sight. The little one had his hair and eyes, yet your delicate nose and soft, heart-shaped lips.
In that instant, all his doubts and fears melted away like snow under the sun, replaced by a feeling so intense, so overflowing, it brought a lump to his throat and tears in his eyes.
This was love—raw and undeniable. A love he never knew he could feel so deeply, now cradled in his arms.
And also in you.
As his gaze found yours again, Xavier made a vow—to every god and deity that might be listening, that no matter where his life led him, no matter how cruel fate might twist his path, if it meant getting even a glimpse of this unparalleled happiness with you, then—
He would endure it all. Every storm, every trial. For you, for the love you shared, and now for the tiny life in his arms. And if you were ever separated again—
No matter how, no matter how many times, through all means, he will definitely find you, always.
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luveline · 1 year ago
Note
hellooo!! im not sure if your requests are open so feel free to ignore this but i was wondering if you could write for tasm!peter where the reader just got her wisdom teeth removed and she’s all loopy on anesthetics and forgets peter is her boyfriend? i saw this video where this girl got her wisdom teeth pulled and forgot she was dating her boyfriend and fell in love with him all over again😭😭
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR7sGQo5/
thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k
"Here she is," the nurse says gently, walking you out with his arm behind your back. "Alright, say hi to Peter." 
"Hi, Peter," you mumble, eyes on the floor. 
Peter grins at you, worry warm at the back of his throat. "Hey. Is that everything?" he asks, nodding at the nurses paper bag of aftercare. 
"Everything you'll need." The nurse helps Peter take over, hoisting your arm over his shoulders before stepping away. "Alright, feel better, okay? And don't hesitate to call if something comes up. We're here to look after you." 
You seem appreciative in your fog, but it's hard to tell. Peter curls his arm around your hip and gives it a soft rub as he leads you to the stairs. Whoever devised the floor plan here had murder on their mind —the second floor is completely inaccessible. Luckily, Peter has a lot of strength at his disposal. 
You can feel it. "Woh, you're strong," you murmur. 
"You know that already." His grip on you tightens, pretty much carrying you down the tight staircase. 
"Do I?" you ask. You make a sound like you're hurting, a squeak. 
"I'd hope so." At the end of the staircase, he sits you down, worried you're not feeling well. "You okay? I can princess carry you if you need me to." 
You look at him with wide eyes. He turns to check there's no one standing behind him, but you're really looking at him. "What?" he asks, touching your knee, imploring. "You look like you've seen a ghost." 
"You're Peter?" you ask. 
Ah, the amnesiac effect of anaesthetic. His touch turns comforting, stroking your thigh with as much care as he can drive into his palm alone. "That's me. Hey, if you're forgetting me, does that mean you're not mad at me for last Friday anymore? 'Cos I know you said you forgive me but I can tell it still pisses you off–" 
Your eyes fall to his hand. "Why would I be mad at you?" you ask. 
"I finished the milk and put the carton back in the fridge, even though I promised I'd stop doing it. You see the jug and think there's milk left. We were gonna have macaroni and cheese..." He nudges your fingers with his. "Are you okay? You don't look like yourself."
"What do I usually look like?" 
"Not so, you know. Daunted." 
"You're really handsome," you whisper, refusing to meet his eye. 
"Oh, you think so?" 
You nod like your head is too heavy. You're embarrassed, you sweetheart, oh my god Peter could cry into your lap. 
"Let's get you to the car, baby." 
"Where are we going?" The gauze gives you the world's most adorable lisp, and it turns your gasp into a hum as Peter stands you up. 
"Home." 
"Together?" 
"Yeah, we live together. It's a nice place, and you're a great decorator, you know? It's cozy." 
"Thank you," you say shyly. 
You're not not shy with him, but it's been a long time since you got so quiet over a practically innocuous comment. He wants to see how you'll react to real compliments, over the top stuff that he one hundred percent means. It's a little mean, but when will you ever be like this again? 
He helps you out past the desk and onto the street to your car where it's parked a half a block down. "Don't worry about all this, okay? I'm gonna take such good care of you, sweetheart. There's an ice pack and a brand new comforter with your name on it waiting at home." Peter smiles at your starry eyes as they flash to his, amazed at his simple plans. "How does that sound, beautiful? Is there anything you want before we head home? Anything that would make you feel better?" 
"You're gonna take care of me?" you ask breathlessly. 
"That's my job. That's my number one boyfriend duty." 
"You're my boyfriend?" 
"I am!" he says happily, laughing as he speaks. "For a while. I've been trying to take things further but you're always really shy about getting married–" 
"You want to get married? To me?" 
Peter presses a soft kiss to your cheek. "You're the only person I'd ever want to get married to. We already picked the flowers–" 
"We did?" 
He laughs again, all your questions. He loves regular you but loopy you is especially endearing. "Last time I got super drunk, yeah. You never let me forget it." 
"So you love me?" you ask, stopping short.
"I love you so much," he says immediately, hugging you into his side. He dots another kiss against the top of your head. "You should remember that even if you don't remember me." 
"I love you," you say quietly. 
Peter doesn't know if that's your memory returning, or if you've fallen in love with him in the last fifteen minutes. He could easily fall in love with you that quickly, and yet he's still amazed at your confession. 
"That's good. That's great. Thank you, sweetheart," he says, desperate to hold your face in his hands but weary of causing you future pain. "There's your car," —he points, lowering his head to yours to make sure you can see it, hand now protectively held between your shoulder blades— "let's go home now. Yeah?" 
You start walking again at his requests. He can pretty much see the steam rising off of your face, giddy with happiness at these revelations. You're together, you're in love, and you think he's handsome. He wonders what you'll have to say about his biceps in this state of delirium; you go crazy for his arms sober. 
Which reminds him. 
"I totally have another secret to tell you," he says, unlocking the car as you approach and helping you into the passenger seat. 
"What is it?" you ask. 
Peter closes you in and skirts around the door, climbing into the driver's seat. He's glad that New York is as ridiculously loud as ever, because not even the closed doors or your sodden gauze can smother the way you shriek.
"My boyfriend is Spider-Man?!" 
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aakeysmash · 2 months ago
Text
sukuna lets yuuji wear his jersey
a/n: this drabble contains angst that i didn’t want to spoil in the title (i’m so bad with titles y’all PLS bare with me okay)
college!sukuna masterlist
You know how football players usually give their jerseys to their girlfriends? College!Sukuna gives his to his little brother Yuuji.
You’re not big on sports, but Sukuna asked you to watch Yuuji a couple of times because he had “practice at the ass crack of dawn”. Seeing how ripped he is (you may or may not have walked in on him shaving his beard one time while he only had a towel wrapped around his waist) you already thought he did some kind of sport, but you never cared enough to ask him about it. It’s not until 6 months into your forced proximity that you come to know he’s actually really popular on campus.
It happens randomly. You just finished playing monopoly with Yuuji and you’re listening to your sweet little companion tell you he wants to help you cook this evening. You’re discussing what meal to cook when Sukuna comes home, late, as he did every day this week. He throws his gym bag near the living room door, gets his shoes off and grunts as a form of acknowledgment.
“You know, dogs usually bark more than you to say hi. Imagine being worse than an animal,” you say, not even looking at him, picking up the little plastic houses distributed on your table.
“Imagine never shutting the fuck up,” he answers, ruffling his still wet hair from a shower he must have taken not too long ago, not sparing you a glance either. You scowl, watching the water droplets fall on the freshly cleaned (by you) floor. Well, you have to admit he does look hot in his black hoodie. Black compliments his face tattoos really well, you think.
“Bro! Language!” His mini counterpart exclaims from in front of you, putting his hands on his hips, frowning. He looks like an old lady. A really cute and young old lady.
“Yeah, Sukuna, language,” you snort, flipping Sukuna off behind your back when Yuuji isn’t watching. The tattoed man, still standing by the door, narrows his eyes at you when you turn your back on him. Yuuji goes into his room to put the game away and leaves you two alone.
“You’re lucky I need the fucking money to live here or I would’ve fed your body to the really nice dogs who say hi by now,” your roommate says lowly, coming behind you and pushing you out of the way to lay on the couch. He pushes you harder than usual, so you stumble and bump your thigh on the table, muttering ouch and pouting. You’re pretty sure he didn’t control his strength like he usually does in your playful banters. You sit down to rub your sore spot, waiting for Yuuji to come back and start cooking with you, while he just puts his hood on his head and closes his eyes.
“Is this how you treat a lady?” You mumble, at which he scoffs, not even bothering to answer. As a natural conversation starter, you try to think of something to say. You think he looks like he could use a conversation, anyway. He’s been more distant this last week, but he always had his emo moments, so you didn’t think too much about it. Today his mood is darker than usual though, and for some reason, after six months of living together, that doesn’t sit well with you.
"How was tod-"
"Fine," He interrupts you. You're stunned by his roughness.
“Listen, tomorrow I was thinking of going-“
“Can you shut the fuck up?" He curtly barks, one of his eyebrows ticking.
You frown. "Hey, I was just-"
"I’m not joking. Shut up. Stop talking for one fucking day. God, you’re so fucking annoying,” he grits out, scrunching his eyes even more. At this, you close your mouth fast. Well, maybe he didn’t look like he wanted to have a conversation, at the end of the day.
After his outburst, the silence inside the living room is deafening.
You don’t want it to, but the tone he uses stings, even if you try not to let it get under your skin. You thought you two had become close enough to joke around this way, but you apparently guessed wrong. You just wanted to help, and he just shut you completely out. You just wanted to be a good… friend? Are you even friends?
Yuuji gets back and you stand up from the floor, going toward the kitchen. You wince when you put your weight on your leg.
You inhale deeply, reigning yourself in. “What do you think about… quesadillas?” You ask the little one calmly, and you see him beam.
“Yes, please! I want to learn how to make them good like you-“
“Kid, there’s a game tomorrow. Wanna come?” Sukuna interrupts you two. He’s still sitting on the couch with his eyes closed, but now he has his arms crossed too.
“Hell yeah!” Yuuji answers, jumping with his little fist in the air. Sukuna hums.
“Gotta tell coach. You still have the jersey from last time, yeah?” He asks, getting up from the couch and rolling his left shoulder. When it pops, he grimaces in pain a little.
“Of course I do,” the kid proudly says, looking up at his big brother with stars in his eyes. Standing next to each other they look like the ghost of the past and the ghost of the future from A Christmas Carol. Yuuji is dressed in bright yellow while if Sukuna had any more black on him he’d be a shadow. A chill runs up your spine. Spooky.
“Good,” Sukuna rasps out, solemnly getting the palm of his hand on his little brother’s head.
You start preparing the ingredients for dinner. “Are you eating with-“
“I’m going to sleep,” he interrupts you once again. He still hasn’t looked you in the eyes since he entered the apartment. You turn away, not wanting Yuuji to feel the shift in your mood by looking at your face.
“Goodnight, bro,” Yuuji says cheerfully. Your other roommate rushes inside his room, locking it from inside, and you and Yuuji are left standing in front of the stove in silence.
“Oh. Well,” you start talking again awkwardly, a fake chuckle coming through. “I guess that means he’s not eating with us,” you tell Yuuji, getting back to preparing the ingredients for your dinner, now for two.
“It’s a big game, you know,” Yuuji whisper shouts from next to you, overstuffing his quesadilla. “I already knew about it, but it feels nice when he asks me to go,” the kid continues, a small smile ever present on his lips. Your gaze softens.
“What sport and position are we talking about?” You ask him, handing him a piece of cheese to chew on while you finish preparing everything.
“He’s a quaftef bafck. He’f capftainf too,” Yuuji answers between bites. So he’s a football player. His strength makes sense now.
“You seem really proud of him, Yuuji,” you tell him sweetly, adoring the way he’s trying to get his point across by waving his hands in the air a lot.
He gulps down the cheese. “Yeah, big bro always lets me wear his jersey. He told me that if someone annoying has to be wearing it, then he might as well give it to me,” he smiles, big, while you inwardly cringe. Couldn’t be Sukuna if he didn’t say something that felt more like an insult than a compliment.
“Why is it an important game?” You ask, preparing one more quesadilla.
“Because he just became captain! It’s his first game as a captain!” The kid tells you, jumping a little on his chair and watching you, excited. Oh, is that why he looked like a bird just shat on him the whole week?
“Well, then you have to be his top supporter, don’t you think?”
The next morning, you wake up early to go grocery shopping. You wanted to ask Sukuna to come with you yesterday, but after the way he probably didn’t even notice he treated you, you really don’t feel like it. You get out of your bedroom door and are met with the sight of Yuuji already wearing his brother’s way too big jersey. You snap a pic when he’s still turned around. He looks so cute.
You go toward him, who is conveniently also toward the apartment exit. He hears your footsteps and looks at you expectantly.
“Can you help me tie the scarf?” He asks you, said scarf still in his hands. It's full of little drawings of tigers, which he told you are the mascots of the football team.
“Of course Yuuji. You look so good today, I bet your brother is really happy, mh?” You smile, getting at his eye level and wrapping the piece of cloth around his neck.
“I think he’s almost ready too!” He says, raising his eyebrows. Then, he assumes a confused expression. “Wait, aren’t you coming? I thought we were going together.”
You hesitate.
“I have to go grocery shopping today,” you answer, averting your gaze.
“Can’t it wait? It’s a really big game,” Yuuji pouts.
You hesitate again.
“I don’t think your brother wants me there, Yuuyuu,” you softly smile, trying to be nonchalant, finally securing the scarf and standing back up. You try not to look into the little boy’s eyes, because you’re sure you aren’t that good at masking your feelings.
“But he was-“
“Brat, are you ready?” Comes Sukuna’s voice from down the hall. You push Yuuji toward the approaching footsteps, mouthing Go! He’s talking to you! The child looks back at you like he wants to tell you something, but you ignore it. You hastily open the door to get out, managing to catch Sukuna’s gaze only a spare second before closing it behind your back. You stiffen. Then, you walk away.
Inside the apartment, Sukuna puts on a confused expression, matching his sibling’s one.
“Where did she go? Nevermind. We’re late, Yuuji. Run, or I’ll leave you here,” he hurries out, grabbing his house keys, hands sweating and feet carrying him to the stadium, while Yuuji tries to follow him.
When the Itadori brothers come back home, Yuuji screaming and Sukuna grinning like a madman for his team’s victory, you’re not there.
“Awh, I wanted to let her know you won,” says Yuuji pouting. In your place, there’s a sticky note on the fridge, which looks like it’s been there since this morning. In the haste of leaving, they both didn't notice it.
Go Tigers!!! P.S. for Sukuna: I left some quesadillas in the fridge. Good luck, captain.
Yuuji claps his hands, saying you must have made more yesterday after dinner when he was asleep, happy to be eating something good two days in a row. Meanwhile, Sukuna can’t take his eyes off the little piece of paper.
“Yo, do you know where she went to this morning?” He asks Yuuji, who is getting out a plate to microwave the food.
“She said she went grocery shopping. She said you didn’t want her at the game,” his little brother responds, lightly and not worried at all, like this is a reoccurring conversation.
“What?” Scoffs Sukuna, baffled, whipping his head toward his brother’s. When did he ever say something like that?
“Well, she said she thought you didn’t want her there,” specifies Yuuji, shrugging, getting two forks and two knives to put on the kitchen table. “I tried telling her you bought her a ticket too! But I don’t know, she seemed…” he stops, thinking about the correct words to say, now looking directly at his big brother’s eyes. “She seemed sad,” he finishes, muttering.
Right then, a tube of cream for bruises put near the coffee machine catches Sukuna’s eyes. He grits his teeth. He thinks back to yesterday, and to the way you rushed out this morning. To the way you obviously tried to ignore him when you locked his gaze. To the way your ticket never left his pocket, because he never properly asked you to come.
Suddenly, the words on the sticky note burn on his skin like a fresh tattoo.
Shit.
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majinbangus · 2 months ago
Note
I love guard dog Simon so much 😖
thank you anon, you make me feel better about sharing about my incoherent thoughts about him <3 -> more here
》 18+
You know what gets him going? Pulling on his collar.
Except you don't actually know that until you wake up to him sleeping on top of you and you unsuccessfully try pushing him off.
"Simon." You push at his shoulder, wiggling your hips. He's a heavy man—or dog, it's what Soap usually refers to him as—and you lack the strength to extricate yourself from underneath him. You'd have a better shot at trying to wake him up. You raise your voice, "Simon."
There's a sound of complaint rumbling from within his chest. A warning growl that means nothing when directed towards you (usually). He's almost as cute as an actual dog like this. You still need to get up, though.
"Simon, c'mon." You bring your hand up behind his neck to thoughtlessly loop a finger around his collar, oblivious to the sudden rigidness above you. "We need to pick Johnny up from the airport." You make the mistake when you begin to gently tug. Once. Twice. Three times. You pull a little harder on the last tug. "Simon—"
You're wholly unprepared for what comes next.
His eyes shoot open, half snarling as he looks at you with something wild in his eyes. His mask is off, but somehow he looks more like the dog Soap always refers to him as. Feral. Raw. Unbridled. He lacks the usual composure he has when he's playing the part of your guard dog.
Your finger slips from his collar.
"We'll be late," You meekly whisper, hand resting on the base of his neck, careful not to touch the collar again. "Johnny will be waiting for us."
It does nothing. He grabs your hand and curls your fingers into his collar again, gripping your wrist to make you pull him closer. You gulp when he leans in to growl slowly, "Johnny can wait."
-
"So this is why I had to order an Uber?"
Soap comes home to find you still in your predicament: writhing and whining underneath Ghost; however, unlike earlier, you're squirming for much different reasons.
"Ah—mm!" You're holding on tight to Ghost's collar as if to ground yourself. "S-sorry, we..."
You can't finish your sentence, throwing your head back, muffling a moan. Soap doesn't fault you for it.
"It's okay, sweetheart. I know you have to take care of your dog." He smirks when Ghost switches up his rhythm and you cry, legs shuddering in that way he's intimately familiar with. He slips a hand into his pants and takes himself out, pumping his cock lightly. "You can make it up to me once you're done and give me a proper welcome home. Alright with you?"
You answer back with a warbling sob.
He'll take that as a yes.
(Note to self: if you ever want Ghost to keep you trapped underneath him and fuck his weight into you, pull on his collar. Otherwise, leave it alone. The command 'down, boy' can only do so much. Lesson learned.)
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runa-falls · 1 year ago
Note
FREE USE WITH MIGUEL? LIKE ANYWHERE ANYTIME?
a/n: YES NONNIE, ANY--FUCKING--TIME. AND HERES ONE OF THOSE TIMES :^) idk if this is free-use or feral!reader or both. anyway, just enjoy it lol. like every time, this got away from me
special thanks to mona (@whatthefishh) for letting me scream this shit to her over discord + for helping me figure out exactly what 'free use' is lol
cw: smut (18+), free use kink, small very small bit of somnophilia (CAN'T ESCAPE IT), non-explicit oral (m-receiving), afab!reader, mentions of ovulation (+ period) horniness, fingering, cockwarming, fucking w/ multiple orgasms, the same Spanish pet name used over and over, reader is basically a bothersome cat, writer is so all over the place it's confusing.
wc: 2.4k (this was supposed to be a quick thot but wtvr)
---
miguel is a gracious boyfriend, he practically lives to please you. so when you approach him in the middle of the day with nothing but his shirt draped over your figure, he has a hard time rejecting your advances.
sure, he tries, but every time he gives you what he wants.
you're spoiled, really.
miguel works at home as much as possible. he hates having to leave you before the sun rises, walking away from a perfectly cozy bed and wet cunt (😳).
miguel convinces himself that Spider HQ can survive a day or two without him on site. he has several capable Spiders that do most of the heavy lifting for him and LYLA isn't afraid to take charge, sitting her holographic ass in the boss' chair.
he can set up mission plans and keep track of everything from his laptop, and he's always on call if he is needed for anything. the only issue is that working remotely doesn't work when he can't get anything done.
he's trying to go over notes from a meeting that was held earlier this morning.
he was supposed to be there, but you physically wouldn't let him out of bed. he swears you're a Spider yourself with the strength you have when you're especially needy and sleepy.
he smelled it when he woke up in the middle of the night to you mouthing over his boxers, that decadent sweetness that indicates you're ovulating.
you were desperate to get a taste of him, to fill that unbearable emptiness inside of you, whimpering with relief when you finally feel his fingers bury themselves in your hair to push your further against his bulge.
he learned early in your relationship that your insatiable appetite for him increases tenfold during your window of fertility (don't even mention your period). and so does your need for sleep. so he caters to your needs accordingly.
you passed out after convincing him to fuck the heat out of you, to snuff out the fire until your neediness recedes. apparently, the only time you aren't horny is when you're sleeping (though that isn't true... you wake up horny all the time??).
you've been sleeping soundly ever since, utterly exhausted by his thorough support, but he knows that once you wake up, you'll be crying for him again.
he crawled back into bed with you after telling LYLA to take over for the day, but after a few hours of almost suffocating because of the way you curl up on his chest like a cat, he got up to get some coffee and finish some computer work.
as soon as his warmth left you, you fussed. eyes still closed as you whined and moaned for his body. he shushed you, gently smoothing down your bedhead until you settled.
it didn't last for long.
you padded out of bed with bleary eyes, clearly looking for him when you walked into the living room. he offered you a quick "morning, cariño." before focusing back on his computer. he had to limit as much contact with you as possible if he wanted to finish his work.
just a few more pages and a couple of emails, and then he can give you all the attention you need.
his shirt brushes against your thigh like a summer dress as you make your way through the room.
he looked adorable with his loose white long sleeve on and black dad-glasses. his hair is still curly and fluffed, telling you he wasn't planning on leaving you anytime soon.
you shuffle over to the couch, sitting next to him with a sigh.
he doesn't react.
somehow, the minimal recognition that you're there, his adamant refusal to look at you, turns you on as much as it irritates you.
he's really trying his best to be a good boss, hm? trying to resist a temptation that's barely a foot away from him.
it makes you feel dirty and deprived. you blatantly rub your legs together, urging him to look. your gaze washes over his sharp jawline watching as it clenches at your soft coos.
"...baby."
"'m working, amor." his voice is still soft, despite the efforts he's taking to ignore you.
you huff.
"but--"
"not right now."
you scoot closer to him, strategically allowing the hem of his shirt to ride up on your thighs. so he's really going to make you do it...
you tug at his sleeve, taking his arm away from his work (though it doesn't look like he was working on much at all, he's been sitting on that exact page for 5 minutes now).
"not right now, mi vida..." he protests lightly, but he doesn't move away. he's not even trying, you think.
you smirk at his empty words. you can see the way he's looking at you: your messy hair, bare legs, the shadow of his shirt hiding away your most sensitive spot. his breathing grows heavier and so does his stare.
"i have work--" miguel is always so soft and sweet to you, melting in your hand though he has all the power to stop it.
"please, miguel? just one, for me?" his lips part as you place his hand against your bare thigh, slowly dragging it upwards until it meets your center.
he doesn't take his hand away, doesn't even pull back a single inch, instead, he instantly complies, cupping his warm hand over its entirety. he chokes out a low groan. you're not wearing anything underneath.
"ok, i guess if it's only once..." he whispers, already breathy. he's leaning over you, almost on top of you, forcing your legs to spread impossibly wide.
he watches as his finger rubs against your slick center, spreading your wetness until you're glistening for him under the late morning light. he pushes in slowly, so slowly, eyes flicking up to your face to witness the small o your mouth makes as he presses in deeper.
his mouth waters as he fingers you, he wishes he had enough time to go down on you, and taste your slick straight from the source. he knows how much you love it when he fucks you with his tongue and suckles on your clit. but no, he has work to do. he needs to get you off so he can finally focus.
"this what you needed, cariño?" it's all but growled into your space, his voice low and taunting. all you can do is nod with bleary eyes as your hands grip onto his thick bicep for support.
he adds another finger and thrusts them into you quicker, angling them just so his palm can gently nudge at your clit. he can feel you tightening around him already, fluttering with each pass that he makes against your g spot. he presses harder, drinking in your choked gasp and shaking thighs.
you're so wet, spilling over his fingers and dripping against his hand. the noises between you are deafening. a mixture of sopping thrusts, heavy breathing, and quiet mewls fill the still silence of the living room.
he's so good at this, too good at this.
how can he make you fall apart with just his hands, caress every sensitive nerve with a single stroke?
you're at the cusp of euphoria. your body, filled to the brim with pleasure, urges you to let go, to take what you want. but you don't want to. you want to stay at the edge forever with his hands on you, to be at the center of his affections, always just one breath away from transcendence.
you're not ready for him to stop touching you anytime soon, you realize. you still need it and after you'll need it again. you need him.
his glasses start sliding as he looks down at you, dropping until they're barely at the tip of his nose. he's focused, eyes locked on how he fills you again and again.
his fingers speed up, expertly aiming against that special spot inside of you. your hips rise from the couch, needing him as deep as possible. then it all falls apart.
you cry out, back arching and eyes rolling. your body is barely touching the couch under you and it feels like you're being lifted up by unknown forces as you reach your climax. white fills your vision and heat thrums through your limbs. you can't hide your one orgasm from him, it's too intense.
before you could recover, he slips his fingers out of you.
"alright, honey, we're done." he casually sucks your essence off of his fingers before propping his glasses back to the arch of his nose.
"ok, ok, i get it. you're busy." you pant, still pulsing from your high. and...he's already back to work. he wasn't kidding when he said he had stuff to do. "i'll just...be sitting here."
so you watch him get back to work, or you try to. the incessant scrolling, typing, reading, and muttering thoughts that accompany his work is usually enough to put you to sleep. it's an unusual lullaby that's attached to him. one that brings you the comfort of knowing he's near.
but he's hard.
he seems so relaxed, so content to work, but his erection presses so desperately against his sweats, outlined perfectly by the grey fabric.
so how could you not touch him? he clearly needs your help... and if he doesn't, then you need it.
you want to be good, you do, but when he types so effortlessly like that with the fingers that were just stuffed in your cunt, or when he looks over his dad-glasses to look at something like a hot fucking nerd, you can't help it.
it's been, what, 12 minutes? that's enough work for the day in your opinion.
you start slow, hesitantly, watching to make sure he's not looking at you (though he can clearly see you from his peripheral vision). you stand up on the couch right next to him. you're a bit unstable on the squishy cushions so you use his shoulder for support.
he looks over at you, confused as to why you decided to walk all over the furniture like a toddler.
you carefully maneuver over his arms to settle yourself on his lap. you're a koala around him, holding your torso to his, looping your arms around his neck and sharing your shimmering lustful body heat. he grunts when you scoot even closer to him, your bare pussy pressing entirely against his covered cock.
but he ignores it.
he doesn't say anything, barely even moves, and just continues to work. you pout a bit, but let him. you convince yourself that you're content with just sitting here and enjoying his company (despite the large distraction that pulses against your pussy, pressing so sweetly under your needy clit).
you listen to his steady heartbeat and slow breaths, the occasional sound of tapping keys. you nuzzle against the soft shirt that stretches over his chest. you're fine.
it's not like you're leaking all over his sweatpants, leaving a puddle at the apex of the fabric. you're not crying on the inside, so empty and fluttering around nothing. you're fine.
until you arent.
you lazily lift your hips above his, nearly head-butting his chin in the process. his arms lift to help you get settled, hands resting on your waist, as patient as ever.
you reach below you and he stiffens. he wasn't expecting you to--
your hand buries itself under his sweats, delicate fingers brushing over his erection. he breathes out your name when you squeeze him teasingly before pulling him out.
"what did i say?" he grunts, hand swiftly wrapping around your wrist. the words are lost on your ears as you caress the silky steel in your fist. it pulses at your touch. he needs this.
he says your name once more.
"you're working."
"then why are you trying to fuck me?!"
"i'm only going to sit on it." you give him an innocent look. you slowly lower yourself so your dripping center meets his before sliding your glistening lips over his hardness. "won't move or say a thing, promise!"
"cariño..."
"just wanna warm you, baby." you position him right against your entrance. "is that so wrong?" you lower yourself before he can say anything else.
you take him easily with how wet you are, and he fills you perfectly. he sucks in a breath at the feeling then growls out, "don't move."
well, you do move (is anyone surprised). you move a lot. but he moves too. harsher and more competitive. who the hell fucks competitively?
you moan over him, bouncing on his cock eagerly. his hands hold your waist, guiding your movements just how he likes it: fast and hard. his laptop, somewhere on the other side of the couch, is forgotten and probably long dead by now. so much for working at home.
you've cum at least four times already, but who's keeping count (you're not. you're so fucked out, you have to manually breathe now.)
he won't let up anymore. you asked for it and you're getting it.
"do i gotta fuck you to sleep, hm? is that the only way you'll leave me the fuck alone and let me work?"
you only admit now that you're eyes were definitely bigger than your stomach. you're practically drooling as he takes control once again, snapping his hips from under you, harsh and punishing. as if this is a punishment.
he has to carry you back to bed that afternoon. he couldn't just leave you on the couch, naked and shivering. plus you'd be a distraction with your bruised hips and fucked out cunt.
you murmur adorably in your sleep as your body unconsciously nuzzles further into his arms. he places you lovingly on the bed and you immediately curl up. he sighs, brushing your hair out of your face because he knows how much you hate it when it gets in your eyes or tickles at your nose during the night.
you look so cozy and comfortable. but so alone in this huge bed.
he debates laying down with you, only until you're in a deeper sleep.
maybe just a few minutes?
LYLA had a few choice words when he woke up in the morning....
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nerdlvr · 8 days ago
Text
not so little is it?
(MDNI)
younger jaemin x older reader , small age gap , jaemin is brothers best friend , ur brother is mark lee , big dick jaem , jaem is bigger than reader , size kink if you squint , kinda public sex (ur both in the kitchen & living room and mark is in his room) , harsh blowjob , cowgirl yeehaw , couch missionary , jaemin is cocky and mean , pet names like a lot , light mocking , degradation kinda , jaemin refers to himself and y/n in third person sometimes idk , jaemin knows how to use his dick damn... , requested here !
it  had been the fifth time that night that you had called jaemin baby. and not baby in a i wanna fuck you type of way, baby in a little boy type of way. If only you could go into his brain and see all the things jaemin would do to shut you up. maybe he’d stuff your mouth with his big, hard-
“babyy, are you listening? The popcorns ready!”
jaemin felt his eye twitch, a small fake smile directed at your pretty face. he shook his head softly, turning his head back to focus on the movie.
“dude you need to stop calling him that, we’re not even that much younger than you.”
jaemin could not agree more with your brother.
he was never one to hold grudges, it was childish, unlike him. but for some reason you had been more annoying than usual tonight, the high pitched ‘baby’ and the sweet toned ‘minnie’ only itching him in all the wrong places.
he turned to the clock in mark’s room, 2:00 AM, well shit. had he really laid here for 3 hours straight thinking about your annoying mouth? his eyes drifted down to his now tented boxers, well double shit. maybe thinking about your mouth right next to your sleeping brother wasn’t the best idea. he needed a walk.
.
the cool air from the fridge numbed his senses, his nipples perking up at the soft breeze.
ice cream, butter, cheese, ew. did mark have anything without milk? wait isn’t mark lactose intoler- “his fridge looks like something out of a horror film right?”jaemin felt the hair on his body rise as he jumped, the fridge shutting loudly behind him, a hand coming up to his chest, “jesus you scared me.”
you giggled as you poked his bare chest, "sorry didn't mean to scare you baby. was just coming out for a snack."
baby, did you like to test his patience? he pushed your hand away as he let out a loud huff, "don't call me that."
your soft giggle continued to ring in his ears, your hands now moving to pinch the fabric of his boxers, "call you what, bunny boy?"
his eyes drifted down to his boxers, small bunnies adorning the fabric. he grabbed your wandering hand, smirking as you let out a pained whine. "does your mouth do anything good besides spout nonsense?"
you ripped your hand away from his tightening grasp, your free hand coming up to massage the sensitive skin,"what's your problem jaemin? i'm being nice to you and you're acting like a brat!"
your eyes widened slightlyy as a scoff left his mouth, lips quirking up into a smirk, "nice? you're treating me like a fucking child y/n. i stopped being little years ago. maybe you've been too busy bitching to even notice!"
your heads turned quickly as you heard shuffling from mark's room, his sleepy groans muffled by the thick walls.
"whatever tough guy, i'm leaving, your attitude ruined my appetite."
his arms were quick to stop you, trapping you against the kitchen counter, "where do you think you're going? where's my apology?"
it was your turn to scoff, eyes rolling at his questions. "apology? grow up na jaemin, you're not getting an apology if i did nothing wrong." you pushed at his chest, muscles firm against your hands. when did he get so strong? you mumbled out a low move embarrassed by your lack of strength against him.
he chuckled, breath fanning against your face, "give it one more go baby, maybe this time you might get it."
you bit your lip, head turning to look anywhere besides his bare chest, "this isn't funny, move or i'll-"
"you'll do what y/n?" he licked his lips, smirking down at you.
damn you na jaemin, damn you and those strong muscles, damn you and those plump lips, damn you and this new attitude that is so so hot. you gulped loudly, looking away as you tried to sneakily squeeze your thighs together, heat building between you legs.
"something wrong?"he leaned in closer to you, lips just one breath away. you turned your head further away from him, edge of the counter pressing deep into your back.
"you think being immature is cute jaemin? get off of me!"
he pressed his forehead against the side of your head, breath fanning against your ear. "no-"
he lifted his leg slightly, using his his knee to gently press against your core. you bit your lip to stifle a moan, head lowering just enough to watch his knuckles turn white against the counter. "but you clearly do. been squeezing these pretty thighs together since i started raising my voice at you."
you kept quiet, eyes squeezing shut as his knee pressed further against your heat, "who's the baby now hm?" you ignored him, brain zoning into to light pressure being applied to your clit, only a light hum being your response.
"answer me when i'm talking to you." your eyes fluttered open as he gripped your chin, moving your face so you'd look at him, "m-me jaem."
he tilted his head, smirk growing wider, "what was that?"
you swallowed your pride. there's no way you're gonna miss this opportunity. "i-i'm the baby jaem." he could help but chuckle, leaning in to plant a wet kiss on your cheek, "good girl, you learn quick. now lets put that bratty little mouth to good use."
you sunk onto your knees like your body was possessed, hands coming up to tug at his boxers. his cock sprung free, slapping his toned stomach. he was big, tip flushed and leaking.
his hand was quicker than yours, grabbing onto the base of his length to slap it against your cheek."not so little huh? call me baby again little brat."
"b-bab-" he chuckled as your words came out gargled, his cock being shoved into your mouth to silence you, "you look better with your mouth full." your eyes squeezed shut as you focused on your breathing, jaw relaxing slightly.
he was heavy on your tongue, smooth skin rubbing against the sides of your mouth. you hollowed your cheeks, sucking him in further. "shit angel, mouth so good, keep doing that."
you bobbed your head against him, spit threatening to spill past your lips. the sight above you was heavenly, pink hair held up with his hands as his mouth hung open. he let out soft pants as he tried his best not to thrust into your mouth. "let me- fuck- let me do it."
his hands moved into your hair to hold your head steady, hips starting to pick up a rhythm. you batted your lashes up at him, soft moans spilling from your mouth as he pressed deeper into your mouth, "look so pretty like this- just wanna-"
you gagged loudly as he pushed the rest of his length into your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat. he held you there, your nose pressed against his pubic hair as you swallowed around him.
his groans went straight to your core, thighs squeezing impossibly tighter. he pulled you off in one swift motion, laughing as you gasped for air, eyes watery and lips swollen.
"look at you-" he slapped your face lightly, "acting so grown and can't even take my cock- get up and turn around."
but you remained on your knees, whimpering as you wiped at your mouth. you hadn't noticed you were crying until jaemin leaned down, warms hands rubbing your cheeks, "awe you crybaby, minnie's cock got you all worked up hm?"
you pushed his hands away struggling to get up, legs sore from the kitchen tiles. his arms wrapped around your waist pulling you against his chest, "still so stubborn, baby just needs some good dick fucked into her so she'll learn hm?"
he laughed at your weak yelp, his arms lifting you up as he walked towards to living room, "now you're gonna show me how much you need this dick."
he sat on the couch, placing you right on his lap, face to face with you. "go on put it in." your cute pouts did nothing to him as he moved his arms to rest them on the back of the couch, head nodding to urge you to continue.
you whined softly as you hovered your hips over him, hand coming down to push your panties and sleep shorts aside. your cheeks burned as you both looked towards your heat, wetness dripping onto his length. he threw his head back as he let out a soft groan, "fuck baby, what would mark think about me having his big sis dripping all over me hm? like the idea of getting fucked by me that much?"
you nodded quickly shame evaporating from your body as you began to rub his tip along your soaking cunt. he hissed under you, his hands gripping the couch cushions, "don't tease baby, wanna feel you."
you sunk down slightly, hollowly fucking yourself on his tip. your bottom lip was trapped between you teeth, body leaned back as you gripped onto jaemin's thighs. he couldn't help but groan at the sight of you, body covered up by your pjs but your pussy on full display.
he moved his hand to your tummy, fingers slipping under your shirt to pull the fabric over your tits, "fuck, you little minx, look at you dripping on my cock- shit, keep going."
you whined loudly, soft pants leaving your desperate lips as you sunk down on him, the stretch hot against your walls."c-can't jaem, too-"
his hand gripped you breast, rolling your sensitive nipples against his fingers. he pouted up at you, a slight tilt to his head, "can't what baby, hm? minnie's dick to big for my little princess?"
you huffed in embarrassment, cheeks burning red as you threw your head back to hide.
"that's okay angel-" his hands traveled down to your hips, a light chuckle leaving his lips as he lifted his hips to meet yours. the loud slap of your hips vibrated against the living room walls, a soft cry leaving your lips as you leaned forward, stuffing your face into jaemin's neck.
"it's okay-" his hips began to move, your slick making it easy for him to slide against your walls, "you can take it baby see? you're so good for me- fuck"
you whined against his neck, walls tightening around his length as he slapped his hips up. "jaem, jaem, please, oh my- feels so good baby, so deep."
he laughed at your small squeak as he suddenly picked you up, placing you in the corner of the couch, your back pressed against the soft cushion,
"i'm gonna need you to be quiet now okay princess? don't want mark to know how good i'm fucking his big sis hm?"
you nodded quickly, mouth hanging open as he slid back into you without warning, a small moan leaving his lips. "fuck jaem i can't- just please, want it so bad jaem, plea-" your hand flew to your mouth to muffle your loud moans, his hips moving to repeatedly slam into you, his length angled in just the right position.
"fuckkk yes bunny, look at you. pretty pussy sucking me in so good." his pace was relentless, one of your hands having to muffle your moans and the other gripping his arm for stability. you sunk into the couch, cushions bouncing under you from each thrust.
he leaned down close to you, body radiating heat against your chest, "want you to cum baby, i'm so close, so clo- fuck yeah baby just like that, so fucking tight shit."
you squeezed around him your stomach tightening as his words filled your ears. all you could think about was jaemin. his strong arms surrounding you, his warm body enveloping you, his soft moans urging you to cream on him and- oh. he hand flew down to your core, finger pressing gently on your clit, "come on angel, cum for me, wanna feel it, need it baby, please."
you squeezed your eyes shut, teeth clamping around your hand as you arched your hips up. the tight feeling in your stomach radiating throughout you, body shaking as you let go.
he stilled inside you, head pressed into your neck to muffle his own moans as he came inside you, whimpers of your name leaving his lips as he panted against you, "fuck, fuck, fuck, so good, so good for me bunny, you did so good."
he kissed around your neck, lips trailing up onto your lips. the kiss was sweet, soft touch of his lips making your body tingle. his grip was warm against you as he held your trembling body.
"shhh, it's okay, you're okay-" he kissed your cheeks, hands rubbing your sides, "minnie's here baby, i got you, everythings-"
you sunk deeper into the couch as you heard the fridge door slam shut, watching as jaemin's eyes landed on the kitchen entrance, "jaem?" mark's sleepy voice broke the silence, "what are you doing out here?"
jaemin stuttered slightly, pink cheeks still evident against the dim lighting,"i- i was just-" you heard mark take a loud sip of something, clearing his throat after, "if this is about my sister- she's, she's just annoying, all that baby stuff is just her being annoying. you know- sometimes i even kinda feel like she might like you or something."
jaemin bit his lip, only a loud mhm being his response as his now soft length slid out of you, "yeah so, don't let it get to you jaem, get to bed alright?"
jaemin nodded, saying a quick goodnight as mark left his sight. he looked down towards you, a scared look on your face, "so you're into younger guys, huh bunny?"
your giggles filled the small space as you rolled your eyes, hand gently slapping his chest. he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on your lips, a wide grin on his face, "don't worry, i like bratty older women too."
868 notes · View notes
gothgoblinbabe · 3 months ago
Text
Love Game
[Logan Howlett x fem!reader]
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Warnings: MDNI/18+ use of she/her, female reader, swearing, being referred to as a girl, mention of being a stress eater, mild alcohol consumption and mention of alcoholism kinda, jealous!Logan, mild violence, you’re shorter than Logan, unprotected sex (wrap it up), little bit of spitting, sub!logan x kinda dom!reader, voyeurism? Technically?, use of pet names, I believe that’s it but pls lmk if I missed any! ps. you wear a dress in this but if that don't work for you, imagine its a sick ass tux/ fancy attire you're comfy in
Also non cannon compliant because I know Logan is heavy as shit and his body weight would crush you but just for a minute you’re gonna pretend like it wouldn’t
Summary: essentially [this ask] with plot ! // Scott needs to mind his god damn business, but he might’ve done you a favor by snatching your diary and waving it in Logan's face.
Word Count: 8K
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
“That fucking kid.”
You groaned, lifting your mattress and checking underneath and round your bed. You knew Scott was going to snatch your diary the moment you’d realized he overheard you tell Ororo where you kept it.  He was always busting your balls the same way he did Logans, even insisting it was a ‘two for one’ deal when he got to bother you at the same time. 
Well, he was really gonna regret messing with you this time.
“Summers! I’m going to wring your goddamn neck! Where is it?”
Your voice boomed through the open halls of the mansion as you barreled down the stairs, feet moving faster than your thoughts. Everything echoed in this place; if he was here, you know he heard you.
“Scott!”
You continued to call his name, stomping around until you locked eyes with him as you entered the kitchen. In his hands - to your abject horror - was your diary, spread open while Logan peeked over his shoulder. 
Truthfully, Scott was a little scared shitless of the consequences of what he’d done. He’d dealt with Logan back and forth, sure, but you? Terrifying. You had just about the same strength as Logan and about five times his rage. That’s why his eyes grew wide when he saw you, snapping the little book shut. 
You could feel your face burning. A diary was private within itself, but there were some things you’d written that were never supposed to be read by another soul; Scott and Logan’s included.
“Fucker,” you grumbled, reaching forward to grab the book from Scott’s hands until Logan snatched it, holding it above your head. 
“Ah, not so fast,” he teased.
You’d gotten into plenty of squabbles with Scott, but he was absolutely going to pay for this. He knew the way you felt about Logan and you swore he got some sick satisfaction out of trying to humiliate you. He only found out because he’d overheard you confiding in Jean late one night in the living room with a pint of ice cream in your hands, yapping while you shoveled Ben and Jerrys into your mouth.
Your eyes flickered between his face and Logan’s. If looks could kill, Scott would have dropped dead the second you walked into the kitchen. 
“Now what is this,” Logan asked with a lilt in his voice as his eyes scanned a page, “a whole paragraph for little ol’ me?”
Shit. 
“I’ll give it back, I promise, but I gotta read this.”
If you tried, you could maybe snatch the thing from his grip before he read too much. You considered jumping on him, piggybacking until he dropped it or handed it over. What lengths would you be willing to go through to keep it a secret anyway? Was it really even a big deal?
You had a crush. Everybody does at some point. A stupid, harmless crush and if this was how he was going to find out, so be it. 
You were still absolutely planning on tearing Scott from limb to limb, though.
“Huh,” Logan clicked his tongue, beginning to read from the pages, “No one knows how to piss me off like Logan.”
You sighed, dropping your head into your hands.
“True,” he commented, “and he spends a ridiculous amount of time in the bathroom to do his hair.”
“Also true,” Scott chimed in, becoming the subject of your seething gaze. 
“He’d save so much time if he just let me do it for him - like it would be hard to comb it into two cat ears,” he read, looking up to speak to you, “first of all, I told you they’re not cat ears.”
You simply nodded and rolled your eyes.
“Second of all, you couldn’t master ‘em anyway - I’d have to fix it myself.”
You just scoffed, leaning yourself back against the kitchen counter in an attempt to act nonchalant while you tapped one foot uncontrollably. Everything he’d read so far seemed to be the mundane stuff, nothing incriminating just yet. 
“God, how I wanna…play with his hair,” he read, eyebrow quirked in confusion.
Ah, there it is.
“That’s, uh - it’s really old, I didn’t mean, like - it’s from years ago,” you tried to blabber out an excuse.
“It’s dated - it’s from a couple months ago.”
You pursed your lips, nearly biting through the flesh at the same time from the pressure. You had to get that book out of his hands.
“He’s so stubborn,” Logan continued to read with a smug grin, holding the book high when you jumped to grab it, “I wish someone would just put him in his place.”
“Ooh,” Scott chuckled, looking to you, “are you gonna be the one to do it?”
“Fuck you, Summers - I’m so gonna get you back for this,” you snarled.
“I don’t think it would take too much for him to keep his mouth shut” Logan started to read again.
You instantly recognized the part he was reading and gasped, frantically reaching again for the book. 
“No, no, no, Logan, please - you don’t wanna read th-“
“I’d love to be the one to do it. I wanna take him and -”
He stopped reading and his eyes scanned the rest of the page, his amused smile faltering. You knew exactly what it was he’d read and you wanted to bury yourself alive. You remembered scrawling it down, snickering to yourself as you dragged the gel pen across the paper.
I wanna take him and tie him to my bedpost, probably shove my panties in his mouth and fuck him senseless.That would really shut him up.
Out of all the pages in that goddamn book, that’s the one he had to open up to?
You watched intently as his eyes flashed from yours to the page and then back again.
“What does it say?” Scott questioned, trying to lean over to get a look.
Instead of letting him read it, he snapped it shut and held it out towards you, his face expressionless. Was he mad? Grossed out?
“Don’t worry about it. We shouldn’t be readin’ her private stuff anyway.”
“Uh…,” you hesitated, fingers softly grazing his when you took it back, “thanks.”
You turned on your heel immediately and hastily made your way back to your room. You hoped to hide out there the rest of the day, praying maybe Logan would forget what he’d read or just let it be. You knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t.
You knew him so well because you were like mirrors of each other; smart mouthed and hot headed. You realized that the first couple months with the X-men, always butting heads with him until one mission where you had to grab the back of his jacket in an attempt to keep him where he was. You tugged with so much force that you nearly knocked him on his ass. Even Hank had never been bold enough to do that, not when Logan was as riled up as could be. From that point on, it was kind of an unspoken assumption that you would always be the one who calmed him down or held him back. So, you did just that; grabbing his wrist with both hands to force him to keep his claws to himself or pushing back against him when he tried to lunge at Scott for something stupid - though, after what he just pulled, you may just let Logan rip him apart next time. Though it was never acknowledged between the two of you, you were his anchor. You held him down when he began to drift away. Fortunately for you, he did the same - using minimal effort to keep you in place when you tried to go for someone’s face or going as far as to hike you over his shoulder and carry you away from the confrontation, all while you kicked and screamed to be let down. 
You avoided him the best you could for two days after the incident in the kitchen, quick comments in passing but never staying long enough for a full conversation out of fear that he’d bring up what he read. What were you supposed to say, anyway? ‘Sorry I thought about fucking you?’
You’d have to think of something because you were face to face in training a few days later. Scott stood to the side of you both, a stopwatch in his hand. 
“Alright, when I say go, whoever pins the other down for more than five seconds wins. Remember, you're each trying to beat your time from the last session.”
Scott’s voice almost sounded underwater. Your eyes were locked with Logan’s and though you wanted to rip your gaze away, you couldn’t.
“Ready? And…go!”
He backed out of the way and you tried to lunge at Logan, quickly being flipped onto your back.
“Okay, ow,” you whispered to yourself, immediately standing back up.
He tried to grab you when you stood but you caught his hand, twisting his arm behind his back to force him to the ground. You straddled his back and kept your weight on him but he was too quick, turning over and pushing you off him.
“Don’t get too excited, now,” he panted, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
You were caught off by the low cadence of his voice, inadvertently letting your guard down and giving him an opportunity to pin your arms above your head and keep your legs down with the weight of his knee. Scott began to count down and you racked your brain for a way to get yourself out from underneath him. 
You were able to pull one of your legs free, sending him a little off balance and using your leg on the side of his torso to roll him over on his back again. You straddled his waist, using your hands and your forearms to hold his down. That, however, left you nose to nose while panting for air. 
“What, you thought I’d let you win?” You asked, tongue poking at the corner of your open mouth. It was usual for you to tease each other with little snide comments. Nothing any different from the usual, right?
“Nah, I just really like havin’ you on top.”
Nope, definitely different. 
You didn’t even hear Scott call time on your match at first. 
“Hey! Lovebirds! I said you can get off each other. Jesus,” he groaned. You finally remembered where you were and quickly scrambled off of Logan. 
“Aw, really? It was just gettin’ good,” he chuckled. You could feel his eyes on you as you gathered your belongings with your back turned. You tried to step out into the hallway, praying he wouldn’t catch you before you met the elevator doors - of course, you weren’t that lucky.
“Hey, hey - princess, wait up,” you heard him call after you and you stopped, turning on your heel with an irritated expression.
“About the other day, the thing you wrote - “
You sighed, rubbing your face in distress and cutting him off before he could finish.
“Listen, Logan,” you quickly looked around the corridor to make sure you were alone, “I know what you read, I don’t wanna talk about it. It - look, it was some stupid phase where I had a crush and it’s over, okay?”
He tilted his head. You hoped he would simply nod and move on, but you watched his lips curl into a smile instead.
“Aw, what happened - you changed your mind?”
You knew him well enough to understand the look on his face. He was never gonna let this go - in fact, he was probably going to nearly torture you over it. 
“Shut up,” you huffed and continued to walk away, keeping your stare straight ahead.
“Aw, pretty girl -“
You dropped your belongings to the floor with an audible thud and gathered the front of Logan’s t-shirt in your fists, tugging him down to your height so you were face to face. 
“First of all, I told you not to call me that - ‘princess’, ’pretty girl’ - like I’m one of your little girlfriends. Okay, kitty cat?” you scolded through gritted teeth. He hated being called that and you knew it.
His eyebrows were raised and his lips parted in surprise.
“And second of all,” you continued with a deep breath, “you read it, it’s done - leave it be, would you? It doesn’t mean anything.”
You still had his shirt in your tight grip.
“Alright, alright - I’m just teasing,” he admitted, trying to pry your fingers from his t-shirt, “and I’m sorry, I never should’ve been reading it in the first place.” 
You sighed and finally let him go.
“Fine, I forgive you. And you can’t ever tell anyone what you read. Promise?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die.”
“So, we’re cool again? Nothings weird?”
“Not unless you make it weird.”
“You were the one flirting with me.”
“Uh - was not. I was simply creating a distraction to throw you off guard and it worked.”
“I’ll get you back.”
“Sure, you will.”
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
You and Logan were in forced proximity hours later, standing with Scott, Jean and Ororo in Charles’ office.
“Do we really have to go?” Logan groaned, hanging his head back in frustration.
You were staring at the thick paper invite atop Charles’ desk. All your names were scrawled in cursive, surrounded by small gold detailing with the event written on top. It was some kind of Gala, something for charity that you couldn’t quite make out from where you were standing.
“It would be a wonderful opportunity to represent the school, yourselves and the mutant population as a whole,” Charles answered.
“You really think wolvie and his little hothead wrangler are gonna be well behaved enough to not make a scene?” Scott gestured towards you both.
Logan stepped towards him and you instinctively grabbed the sleeve of his jacket to hold him back. He looked back at you, clearly annoyed.
“We’ll be fine,” you insisted while glaring daggers in Scott’s direction.
You didn’t notice that you were still holding the sleeve of Logan’s jacket when Charles dismissed you. You let go and cleared your throat as you followed him out of the room.
“There's no way in hell I'm wearing a suit,” he grumbled, looking down at his flannel and jeans.
“You don’t wanna play dress up?” You teased.
“And look like a stuck up prick? No.”
“I'm kind of excited to wear something nice for once,” you admitted, “I’ve got a couple nice dresses I’ve never even worn. Besides, maybe there’s gonna be a couple of hot, rich guys there.”
You were looking straight ahead as you walked side by side down the hall, smiling to yourself. If you had turned your head, you would have seen the way Logan rolled his eyes. 
“What, you’re gonna go home with some rich schmuck just ‘cause he’s got money?”
He sounded almost annoyed. You furrowed your eyebrows and shrugged. 
“I don’t know, if he’s good looking, maybe.”
That was only a little truthful. You were not the type of person who was comfortable enough to go back to a stranger's place or hook up with someone you’d never see again. But maybe you could, if it would keep your mind off Logan and convince him to forget about what he’d read a few days ago. And if the guy did have money? It certainly wouldn’t be a problem for you.
“Oh,” Ororo piped up from behind you, stretching out the vowel, “I see - you’re going shopping. Gotta try before you buy, huh?”
She playfully poked your side and you chuckled, swatting her hand away.
“Call it what you want,” you responded, “but I’m gonna have fun, at the very least.”
You would end up having fun - just in a much different way than you expected.
You decided on getting ready for the night in Ororo’s room when the time came a few weeks later. She was touching up her makeup at her vanity while you changed behind the bathroom door. 
“Does it fit?” She asked through the wood with her eyes still on her reflection.
You were attempting to zip the back of your dress with your arm stretched uncomfortably over your shoulder.
“In a way? Kind of.”
Jean entered the room just then, having already gotten ready in her and Scott’s room.
“She’s trying on a dress that’s been in her closet since last year that still had tags,” Ororo explained to her as she sat on the edge of the bed.
“Can one of you zip me up, though?” you sighed in defeat and opened the door, “I can’t get it.”
“Woah, mama!” Ororo comically wolf whistled and you rolled your eyes with a smile.
The dress was your favorite out of your collection of unworn clothing; it showed the perfect amount of skin and hugged your figure phenomenally. To top it off, the color complemented your skin in the best way possible.
“I don’t look silly? I feel a little funny getting all dolled up,” you confessed, turning around so Jean could pull your zipper up the rest of the way.
“Definitely not silly,” Jean reassured you but mumbled under her breath after, “Logan’s gonna lose it.”
You turned back around to quirk an eyebrow at her.
“Who cares what he thinks? Did I say I care what he thinks? ‘Cause I don’t. Like, at all.”
“Honey,” Ororo began, “we already know you like him, remember?”
You groaned and bent down to look into the mirror on her vanity.
“I don’t - not anymore, at least.”
“Yeah, right,” Jean giggled, “keep telling yourself that.”
Ororo looked at the time on her watch and hastily stood to slip on her shoes, “We’re gonna be late if we don’t leave soon. Logan and Scott are supposed to meet us downstairs.”
You stepped into your shoes and grabbed the little bag you’d carry for the night, following her and Jean out the door. When you finally got to the staircase, you could see Scott and Logan talking to each other at the bottom, the latter of the two standing with his back facing the stairs. 
“All right, ready!” Jean enthusiastically announced. If she hadn’t said anything, the simultaneous clicking of your shoes would’ve announced your presence for you.
Logan turned around to face you. At that moment, he wondered why he ever complained about going in the first place. His eyes were glued to you as you came down the stairs and you could feel yourself start to get warmer. 
He looked so good in a tux, Jesus Christ. You liked when he wore those tight fitting tanks and jeans, sure, but something about the formal attire really did it for you. His cologne wafting into your space when you stood next to him didn’t do much to help dispel any feelings you had, either. How badly you wanted to just forget the stupid event, tug him into your bedroom upstairs and show him that you were so not kidding about what you’d scribbled in your diary. Alas, that was certainly not going to happen.
‘Just an old crush,’ you internally tried to remind yourself, ‘just an old crush - that’s it. I’m not into him anymore.’
Except that you knew damn well it was a lie. 
“We’re gonna be late if we stand here any longer, c’mon,” Scott began walking with Jean while you, Logan and Ororo followed.
“You look nice,” Logan finally spoke as you made it to the door, “think you’ll bag any of those rich guys?”
You almost asked what he was talking about, too lost in thinking about how you actually wanted to bag him and not some stranger.
“I don’t know,” you answered truthfully, “but if I do, you’ll be the last to find out.”
“Oh, really? Why’s that?”
“Because I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Got that right.”
You eventually found yourself in a large, decorated open room, sat in the corner with Logan while he nursed a glass of whiskey and you anxiously scarfed down appetizers. The rest of the team had walked off to mingle - like normal people do.
“Kid, you’re gonna choke if you keep eatin’ that fast,” he warned you.
“ ‘m a stress eater,” you explained with a mouthful of fancy cheese, “besides, you’re a stress drinker. Thank god there’s so many tiny foods.”
He scoffed and took a sip of his drink. 
“What are you even stressed about, anyway? Half your job tonight is to just stand there and look pretty and you’ve already got that down.”
“Thank you, I think?” your eyes nervously scanned the room, “I just hate being in a crowded place, especially one this big that’s full of complete strangers.”
“Why do you think I’m holdin’ a glass right now?” 
Your eyes flickered between his and the half full glass in his hand. You wordlessly took it from his fingers before he even had time to react and downed the contents in one gulp.
“Well, that’s one way to calm your nerves,” he commented, “but if you keep drinkin’ like that, you’re gonna be face first on the ground before the nights even started.”
You were still holding a grimace from the burn of the alcohol but shook your head and cleared your throat, “I just needed the kick in the ass - I’m good.”
“So, you’re gonna go socialize? Good luck,” he raised his eyebrows, “something tells me these people aren’t really who we want to be hanging out with.”
“Why, because they have an immense amount of cash to burn and we don’t? You can’t hate people just because they have money, Logan.”
“Then how am I doin’ it right now?”
You rolled your eyes.
“I think there’s gotta be a few genuinely good people out there who just happen to be rich.”
“Uh-huh, and I think two plus two is five - it doesn’t make me right.”
“You know what? I’m going to prove you wrong,” you said smugly, standing up from the table. 
“I think you’ll prove me right.”
“You wanna bet?”
“It’s a deal.”
“What are we betting, exactly?”
“How ‘bout this - if either of us can find someone here we actually want to go home with, you win. If we don’t, I win.”
“Fine,” you narrowed your eyes and crossed your arms, “what does the winner get?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “we can figure it out later.”
With that, you both dispersed. You were still feeling uncomfortable but that wasn’t going to go away unless you did something about it. Do you just go up and talk to someone? What do you say?
“Excuse me,” a voice said from behind you and you turned around, only to be face to face with a cute guy in a tux.
“Oh, so they come up to you,” you thought immediately.
“Uh, I don’t mean to be forward with you, but you look very beautiful,” he said politely, a charming smile on his face, “I saw you when you walked in and wanted to say something, I just wasn’t sure if you came with someone.”
You took a second to respond, still processing the fact that he even came up to you. 
“Oh, thanks,” you finally replied, “you’re not too bad yourself.”
You tried to use humor to dispel the awkwardness - the type of awkwardness you feel when you get asked to go to a school dance in the seventh grade - but this guy was cute. If you just got to know him a bit, the mild discomfort would probably pass.
“I didn’t come here with anyone, by the way,” you added, “Well, I mean, I did but not in that way - I’m with friends.”
“That’s good to know,” he said, grinning, “in that case, would you wanna dance with me?”
You hadn’t even asked each other your names, and you didn’t really care. 
You nodded and let him take your hand, “I have to warn you, though - I’m no dancer.”
“Well, do I look like one? ‘Cause I’m certainly not, either. But when there’s a beautiful woman in the room that you really wanna talk to, you’ve got to think of a reason to go up and talk to her.”
“I don’t know - I think you just might be a bit of a smooth talker.”
He was and it was definitely working. He clicked his tongue and waved his hand dismissively.
“Oh, c’mon, don’t make me blush.”
He was funny, too. All you had to do was find out a little more about him - for the sake of the bet, yes, but also to determine the probability of breaking his bed frame later if it all went well.
So, you let him rest his arms around your waist and you put your hands on his shoulders. It was kind of nice to have someone so close. You started to feel mildly uncomfortable, though, as if someone was staring at you. You ignored it anyway, deciding it was just the anxiety of being in a place with a lot of people.
Really, it was Logan standing across the room with his stare glued to you two. He looked like he wanted to bore a hole into the poor guy's skull. When you finally caught sight of him, he turned and seemingly disappeared.
You spent a bit of time with your new date, intending to subtilely interrogate him to find out if he fit the criteria for your bet with Logan. Even if he didn’t? You might let him take you home anyway.
You sat with him at an abandoned table, leaning your head on your hand as you half - listened to him talk about stocks. You glanced around the room and spotted Logan again almost immediately. 
He was leaning against the wall with a girl hanging from his arm. She was talking away and he looked completely disinterested. The whole point of coming was to distract yourself from anything to do with him and there you were, ignoring your date to silently seethe at a girl who was only in his vicinity.
You tried to zone back in on the conversation and really pay attention when he started to talk about his job. It was some tech company you’d heard of, a big name in the industry.
“Oh, so, what do you do there?” 
“Well, I own it.”
You squinted and sat up straight.
“You own the company.”
It was more of a statement than a question.
He nodded and you raised your eyebrows. This was going much better than you anticipated. You couldn’t help but glance over at Logan to see that girl still standing with him.  She was twirling a strand of her long hair around her finger. She was undeniably pretty, so you wondered why he wasn’t even looking at her while she hung all over him.
“Hey, would you wanna dance with me again? I know it’s a little slow paced, but I love this song.”
You returned your attention to the man in front of you and smiled as politely as possible.
“You know what? Sure, why not.”
You let him lead you into the middle of the room and rest his hands on your hips. He pulled you much closer than you’d been standing before, so much so that you were nearly stepping on his shoes. His hands slid down further and you laughed a little to yourself. This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? So you wondered why it didn’t feel like something you wanted at all.
You caught Ororo’s gaze from across the room and she smiled, flashing you a thumbs up. When you caught Logan’s gaze, he was anything but smiling. There was a reason you felt like all this was something you didn’t want - you knew you wished it was him you were standing with. Still, you weren’t sure of why he wouldn’t tear his eyes from you or why he had such a scowl on his face. 
You stopped staring back when your date planted a kiss on your forehead.
“What was that for?”
“Well, I kinda wanted to kiss you but I figured maybe goin’ right for the lips might have been too much.”
“We don’t even know each other's names.”
“Do we have to?”
You thought hard for a moment, wondering if Logan was still watching. It wasn’t fair to kiss someone just to try to make another person jealous, you knew that. He didn’t even have a reason to be jealous.
“You can kiss me.”
He was an alright kisser - nothing exciting. His lips were soft, though, and you liked the smell of his cologne. Before you could deepen the kiss any further, he was tugged backwards and off of you.
Logan had the back of the poor guy's jacket in his fists, nearly yanking him down to the floor with how much force he used.
“Alright, bub,” he grunted, “I think that's enough, she’s leavin’.”
You glared daggers at him with your lips parted in surprise.
“I can leave when I want to,” you said through gritted teeth, “what the hell is your problem?”
“Is he your boyfriend?” your date asked, nervously looking between you both.
“He’s n-” you began to answer and Logan cut you off as he grabbed your arm.
“Yeah. Get lost.” 
You furrowed your eyebrows in anger but could feel your face becoming warm. You weren’t totally sure if you were turning pink from how enraged you were with Logan or from the words that just came out of his mouth.
“Outside. Now,” you demanded, tugging your arm from his grip.
You turned to walk away and he followed as you grumbled to him, holding your dress up a bit so you wouldn’t trip as you stomped out.
‘What the fuck was that?”
He didn’t answer, simply following at your heels with his eyes on the marble floor of the corridor. You swung open the door and stepped into the cool summer evening air, waiting until the door shut behind you to speak again.
“What, you didn’t want me to win the bet?” you guessed with raised eyebrows.
“You’re really gonna let some guy you don’t know shove his tongue in your mouth?”
You stood in stunned silence for a moment.
“Are you kidding? How is that any of your business?”
He scoffed and shook his head.
“I can’t believe you’re gonna let some asshole be all over you just ‘cause he's got money.”
“What?” you furrowed your eyebrows, “why do you care?”
“Why don’t you? Seriously, you’d just go home with some guy and fuck him?”
“I don’t - I don’t know,” you stuttered, “maybe, but that was part of that stupid bet! Not that it’s any of your concern!”
You were nearly shouting at each other.
He clicked his tongue and spoke in a sour tone, “none of my concern, sure. I didn’t think you’d actually try and go home with someone -”
“Okay, you know what?” you threw your hands up in frustration, “I don’t know what the hell your problem is or why you’re acting like some jealous boyfriend, but fucking cut it out!”
You were both finally quiet for a moment. The sound of cicadas and crickets songs filled the silence. Logan’s face was pleading, his features highlighted by the soft golden yellow light seeping through the building’s windows.
“You just don’t get it, do you?” he mumbled under his breath, his arms crossed over his chest.
You raised your eyebrows, “get what?”
You sounded exasperated, sick of playing what felt like the worst game of twenty questions ever.
Logan brought a hand to his face, scratching at his facial hair - something you recognized as a nervous habit.
“That stupid fuckin’ notebook, the little one you write in,” he groaned, “I just wish I never read it.”
“So, you’re mad about that?” You asked, clearly still confused as to what he was trying to say, “listen, I’m sorry, it wasn’t -“
“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying,” he interrupted, “it’s - fuck, I don’t know. I don’t know, It's like I read that damn thing and lost my mind.”
You waited for him to elaborate, a puzzled expression still plastered on your face.
“It’s all I can think about, all the time - it's like I close my eyes and I can still see it written down in your chicken scratch. I don’t even know what to do, It’s so stupid,” he huffed.
You still didn’t understand what he was trying to tell you or whether he was talking to you or himself.
“And then - I don’t know, alright - you look so…” he groaned with his face in his hands, “I like you - is that enough? Ya’ get it? I liked you for awhile and then Scott had to go peekin’ through shit that wasn’t his and reading that shit you wrote just made it even worse for me. I’m supposed to read that you wanna ‘fuck me senseless’ and just let it go? You thought that wasn’t gonna do something to me?”
You were slack jawed, feeling like your legs were going to give out from under you.
He seemed angry, his nostrils flaring while he held a frown.
“So…you -“ 
His hands cupped your face and he leaned down close enough for you to feel his warm breath on your skin.
“So, I want you to fuck me like you said you wanted to.”
Your eyes grew so wide that you feared they might pop out of your head. 
“Would you, if I asked?” He continued in a low voice.
Your stomach erupted in butterflies and you nodded without hesitation. Conversations like this with Logan had only ever happened in your dreams.
His lips finally connecting with yours made your head spin. If he wasn’t tenderly holding your face, you might’ve just let yourself fall to the ground.
“I’ve been thinking about you for months, you know,” he admitted when he pulled away, “watchin’ when you walk away, thinking about how you say my name, wishing I could just tell ya’ - I didn’t have the nerve. Seein’ you with another guy, though - I couldn’t take it anymore. I thought I could and I just can't.”
You almost expected to hear the beeping of your alarm clock that would startle you awake in your bedroom. Still, it never came. You could feel his hot breath on your face, the breeze on your skin, the warmth of his hands; it was all too real.
“You mean it? All of it?”
You didn’t know why your voice sounded so desperate, almost pleading with him not to toy with you.
“ ‘course I do. Of course, I mean - god, look at you.”
His mouth was on yours again and you smiled against his lips, your cheeks tinted pink.
“Hey, wait,” you pulled away momentarily, “why did you agree to that bet in the first place, then?”
He gnawed on his bottom lip anxiously.
“I kinda figured you wouldn’t be able to find someone good enough, I don’t know - maybe I could convince you to come back with me instead.”
“That was your plan?” you let out a small laugh, smiling so wide that your face began to ache.
“Well, It might’ve worked if you hadn’t met what’s-his-face in there.”
“I don’t know his name,” you shrugged, “didn’t care to ask.”
He quirked an eyebrow at you.
“I let him kiss me because I wanted to make you jealous,” you admitted, “I still like you.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
His expression was as smug as could be.
“That you still like me? Yeah.”
“How? Am I that obvious?”
“It’s not your fault,” he shrugged and lowered his voice to a whisper as he put his lips to your ear, “I could smell how wet you’ve been all night.”
You swallowed hard and shivered when his hand slid up your back.
“And it worked, by the way - I’m jealous.”
“Yeah?”
He nodded and leaned his forehead against yours.
“Well,” you affectionately scratched at the hair at the back of his head, “are you gonna do something about it, then?” 
He kissed you with much more fever than before and you caught his lower lip between your teeth, making him groan into your mouth. His hands were in your hair to push you even further into him to the point he was practically hunched over your body. When you finally took a second to catch your breath, you had a realization.
“I won the bet.”
He furrowed his eyebrows.
“Please tell me you don’t mean you’re actually still gonna go home with that guy.”
“No,” you rolled your eyes and let out an amused scoff, “I meant you, Logan.”
“Me,” he repeated with a beaming smile, “you’re coming home with me.”
You nodded and giggled, absentmindedly fixing the hair hanging in front of his forehead. 
He was staring into your eyes in a way that had you feeling as though there was nothing else around you - no fancy party inside, no responsibility to socialize - just you and Logan in the cool light of the moon. He was studying your face like he’d never see it again if he turned away.
“What if I couldn’t wait till we got home?” He asked quietly. His warm breath just barely grazed your lips.
Your eyes widened and you thought for a moment, looking between him and the door beside you.
“C’mere,” you instructed simply, taking him by his hand and leading him inside to walk down the main hallway. You scanned the area and once you were sure no one would see either of you, you began trying knobs of different doors to see if one would open. When one finally gave, you slipped inside with Logan in toe and flicked on the lights. It was a small dusty office, one that probably hadn’t been used in a few months at the very least.
Neither of you wasted any time in taking advantage of your newfound isolation. Logan was kissing you like he was starving to taste you, working his way down your neck with an open mouth to leave darkening spots slick with his saliva.
“Logan,” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed momentarily from the way he was nipping and sucking at your skin.
“I love when you say my name,” he admitted, mumbling into your neck. His hands were everywhere - tangled in your hair, resting on your waist, your hips, your ass - he was desperate to keep his hands on you now that he had you. 
You disconnected your lips for a moment so you could hop back to sit up on the top of the desk behind you. You hiked the skirt of your dress above your knees to avoid ripping it and motioned for him to stand between your knees as you held the middle of the skirt down with one hand.
“I’ve got an idea for my reward for winning the bet,” you smiled mischievously, leaning up to hold his chin and force him to look you in the eye, “what do you say, pretty boy? You wanna be part of it?”
He nodded eagerly and the pace of his breathing increased significantly.
“Good,” you leaned back on one hand, using the other to tug at Logan’s suit jacket, “off.”
He obeyed without hesitation and shrugged the garment off his shoulders. He began to untuck his shirt and you stopped him with a gentle touch.
“Did I say to take that off too, sweetheart? I don’t think I did,” you spoke softly in a firm tone.
“No - no, ma’am.”
It drove you crazy to have him under your thumb in that way, his usual domineering nature and dominance melting away by the second. 
“So do as you're told, baby,” you instructed, “if you’re good for me, maybe I’ll reward you back.”
You could see him swallow hard, eyelids nearly fluttering closed when he thought of all the possibilities of what that might entail. 
“F- mhm, fuck,” he stuttered when you brought a hand to the front of his pants and barely grazed the spot below the button with your fingertips. He began to twitch more and more with every touch.
“Are you gonna say yes?” your voice was near taunting, “or do I have to try a little more convincing?”
You popped the button on the front of his pants with ease and slid your hand underneath to feel him over the soft fabric of his underwear.
“Yeah, yes, I - ah, yeah,” he moaned in response, rocking his hips towards your hand and resting his forehead on your shoulder.
“Yes what?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
You smiled and gently kissed his temple.There was something so lovably vulnerable about the way he was acting with you. You knew he’d never let another soul find out that he loved what you did to him - dreaming of you whispering affectionate nicknames and praise as he sloppily pounded into you or spending hours on his sore knees just so he could feel you cum on his face - but the intensity of his devotion bordered otherworldly. 
“Do me a favor, baby,” you started, lifting your hips for a second to drag your panties down your legs, “take out your pretty cock for me.”
He obeyed, tugging his pants down his thighs just enough for his already hard dick to spring up out of the confines of his briefs. You inadvertently licked your lips at the sight, thinking of how heavenly he’d feel in you. He was huge, but for a guy who’s six foot two, it wasn’t a surprise.
He stood expectantly between your legs with his hands on your thighs. You leaned back on both hands, cocking your head to the side as you spoke.
“Touch yourself first and maybe I’ll let you touch me.”
The ‘maybe’ was a bluff. He knew as well as you did that you’d let him touch you regardless.
“Gimme your hand,” you ordered before he could even wrap his fingers around himself. You leaned your mouth over the palm of his hand and spat.
He groaned from the gesture alone, knees nearly buckling when he finally brought his hand down to coat his cock in your saliva.
“Feels good?” You cooed, eyes flickering from his face to his leaking cock in his fist.
“Mm - mhm, yeah, ‘s good,” he panted, “really fucking good.”
You failed an attempt to hide your wide smile, hypnotized by the repeated motion of his hand. He looked so pretty like this - his jaw hung open, chest heaving while his face became more flushed with every passing second. You could feel the rush of heat in your lower stomach just from watching him.
You couldn’t help yourself from leaning forward a little and unbuttoning his shirt from the top down, all while he watched you intently, his breathing becoming heavier the closer your hand came to his.
“Think of you all the time when I do this at home,” he panted, “you’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”
The compliment made your heart swell; it was a sweet remark that so greatly contrasted the obscene speed of his hand as he stroked himself. 
“You’re such a pretty boy,” you whispered and planted a kiss on his pink cheek, “you look amazing.”
You caught the way the motion of his hand slowed and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching forward and wrapping your fingers around his cock. He growled, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder as he squeezed his eyes shut.
“Don’t work yourself up so soon, kitty cat, or you’re gonna be finished before I even get to fuck you,” you murmured into his ear and he gasped as you started to pump him.
“Don’t - ah - don’t call me that,” he whimpered.
“Aw, you don’t like it, my pretty kitty?”
He growled again, even more animalistically , but his hips jerking into your hand told you he really didn’t hate that nickname as much as he told you he did.
“C’mon, sweetheart,” you continued to tease, “I know you like it - you love bein’ my big, pretty kitty.”
He groaned, lifting his head from your shoulder and crashing his lips into yours. 
“Sh-shut up,” he managed to grunt.
You immediately withdrew your hand and sat back again.
He whimpered from the loss of contact and looked at you with pleading eyes, silently asking why you stopped.
“I said you had to be good for me, didn’t I?” you asked.
He nodded, eyes traveling from your thighs, up your body and then back down again. 
“Good boys don’t talk back,” you said simply, raising your eyebrows.
“I’m sorry, I’ll - I’m good, I’ll behave, just please -“
His speech was cut short when you hiked your dress up even further to expose your bare, wet pussy.
“Fucking Christ,” he moaned.
You tugged the top of your dress down to expose your chest and he had to grip the desk you were sitting on so his legs wouldn’t give out from under him. 
“If you can be real quiet,” you pushed some fallen hair out of his face, “I’ll let you cum in me. You want that?”
“Please, ‘v been thinking of that for fucking weeks,” he begged, “please, please, baby.”
He tentatively cupped one of your breasts and you rested your hand atop his, encouraging him to squeeze and knead however he pleased. You spurred him on to the point that he couldn’t resist leaning down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue and sucking while his fingers toyed with the other one.
You couldn’t help whining from the sensation of his mouth on you while you combed your fingers through his hair.
He finally detached himself after ravishing your chest in wet kisses and left a string of saliva connecting his tongue to your nipple. You giggled a little to yourself and crashed your lips into his again in a heated mess of tongues and teeth. You scooted your hips up on the table and used your grip on his cock to graze his tip up against you, making him shudder.
“You’re so - fuck, you’re such a fuckin’ tease,” he gasped and held your hips in an iron grip.
“What’d I say about back talk?” you moved the head of his cock further away from you.
He groaned in frustration, moving his hands to hold your face, “Honey, I’m already beggin’ -  please, I need you.”
The desperation in his voice made you even wetter.
“I guess you’ve been pretty good for me - do you think you deserve it?” 
He nodded eagerly and placed his hand over yours that was around him. You let him nudge your hand away to align himself with your entrance. His eyes bore into yours as he finally began to push himself into you, rocking his hips slowly to help you adjust to his size. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he wrapped his around your waist. When he fully sheathed himself inside of you, he let out a loud moan that echoed through the small space.
“I told you to be quiet, sweetheart,” you whispered into his ear.
“Uh-huh, ‘s a lil’ hard when I’m fuckin’ a girl I’ve been dreamin’  about for months,” he mumbled, working up a steady pace while you wrapped your legs around him and locked your ankles at the small of his back to help push him further into you.
“You feel so good, Logan,” you moaned, kissing down his jaw and throat.
He groaned at full volume again.
“Are you gonna stay quiet? or do I have to shut you up? Hm?” you grinned and he made an even louder noise. You reached behind you to find your panties and folded them into a ball, holding his jaw with your other hand.
“Open.”
He obeyed immediately, rolling his eyes into the back of his head when you stuffed them into his open mouth.
“Good kitty.”
He let out a muffled growl and the speed of his hips increased.
“Yeah,” you panted, “I know you like that.”
The angle at which he was fucking you made it so that he was hitting the sensitive spot inside of you over and over again, making you gasp each time. Sweat was forming on his neck and down both your chests, practically sticking your skin together in the hot, stuffy room.
“You’re - you’re so pretty,” you told him truthfully, admiring the rosey tint of his face and the drool that was starting to run down from the corner of his mouth. His eyelids fluttered closed and he started to thrust into you hard enough to shake the desk you were sitting on. 
“Easy, kitty cat - you’re gonna break somethin’,” you muttered into the hot skin of his neck with a smug smile on your face.
His pace didn’t falter in the slightest, his hands gripping your ass to push you towards him every time he slammed his hips forward. The fabric of your panties muffled the guttural moan he choked on when you lightly sunk your teeth into his shoulder. He slid his hand between your bodies to bring his thumb to your clit, working tight circles around the bundle of nerves in rhythm with the thrust of his hips.
“Fuck, fuck, I-“ you were speechless, at a loss for words from the brutal combination of the pressure he applied with his fingers and the way he repeatedly hit that spot inside of you. His eyes were squeezed shut and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, still whining and growling like an animal into the fabric of your underwear. You felt the heat in your lower stomach start to build and you buried your face in his shoulder, your mascara smudged under your eyes.
“Logan, Logan, I’m - ah - ‘m gonna come,” you warned, tugging on the back of his hair.
He groaned and yanked the fabric out of his mouth, immediately bringing his lips to yours so he could tenderly make out with you while the squelching sound of your dripping cunt filled the room. 
“C’mon,” he growled into your mouth, “c’mon, baby, please.”
Both your chins were slick with each other's saliva from the frantic way you’d smashed your lips together. Your whining and pleading became louder with every roll of his hips until the sensation sent you over the edge, euphoria blossoming from your lower stomach and spreading all throughout your body.
“Oh my god, Logan,” you nearly yelled, your hands slipping under his open shirt to scratch down his back, “s-so good. I love you.”
The three words slipped out without hesitation and your eyes widened, mild humiliation replacing the fading feeling of your orgasm.
His hips rutted against yours when you spoke and he leaned his face down so he was nose to nose with you.
“Love you so much.”
He kissed you softly with both his hands on your cheeks, so filled with affection that you could’ve cried. He slid his hands down back to your hips and kept his forehead against yours as he continued to drill into you.
“I don’t - I don’t ever wanna see ya’ with anybody else,” he panted, “I needed ya’ so bad. You - ah - ya’ drive me crazy.”
Even after having already came, his pussy-drunk rambling still spawned butterflies in the pit of your stomach.
“You’ll never see me with someone else, baby - promise. ‘s always been you. Only ever really wanted you,” you admitted with a soft voice.
His thrusts became sloppy and you could tell that spurring him on with your words would make him finish just as quickly as you did.
“I’m yours, always have been,” you whispered in his ear, “you’re the only one I’ve ever thought about fucking me like this.”
He choked out a sob into your shoulder and came with an animalistic growl, looking down to watch the mess being made all over your inner thighs.
“Love you so fucking much,” he repeated with a sigh, slowly stopping the thrust of his hips and resting his head against yours again.
“I love you, too,” you replied and planted a sweet kiss on the tip of his nose.
“Sorry I made such a mess of ya’,” he apologized, spreading your thighs as he pulled out, “I’ll clean ya’ up when we’re home, I swear.”
“I’ll hold you to it,” you chuckled, readjusting your dress and slipping your underwear back on while Logan tucked himself back into his pants and buttoned his shirt.
You caught a glimpse of the watch on his wrist as he moved and grabbed his hand so you could see the time.
“Shit! We were supposed to meet everyone back out front ten minutes ago,” you realized aloud, slipping yourself off the desk and pulling your dress down.
He mirrored your haste and let you fix his hair, doing the same for you and wiping away the mascara under your eyes.
“Okay, okay, c’mon,” you insisted, opening the door and slipping out hand in hand. You scurried down the abandoned corridor and all the way to the front exit. When Logan pushed open the door, you were met with Jean, Scott, and Ororo standing with worried expressions.
“What happened to you guys?” Scott asked before Jean nudged him in the arm, pointing towards your intertwined hands.
You looked towards where she was pointing and back up again, “Oh, uh…”
You tried to think of an excuse and looked to Logan beside you for help. 
“Nothin’,” he said in a nonchalant manner, “just got lost around the place - lot’s of rooms in there.”
Ororo raised her eyebrows suspiciously. 
“Sure, and, uh - Is that why you’re holding hands?”
You laughed a little, tugging his hand behind your back.
“Well,” you started, “remember I said I’d try to bag a guy tonight? Um-”
“I’ve been bagged,” Logan interrupted with a huge, smug grin.
“I wasn’t gonna put it like that,” you insisted, “but - yeah.”
“Finally,” Jean huffed and rolled her eyes, “I thought we’d have to have an intervention.”
“Huh?” Logan narrowed his eyes.
“Oh, c’mon,” Ororo laughed, “we all knew you liked each other, even before you did.” 
“And you never said anything?” Logan asked.
“Neither of you ever believed us!”
“True,” you agreed with a shrug and giggle. 
“I believe you now,” he stated, still holding your hand as you all made your way into the night, “She might like me. Just a little bit.”
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A/N: Thank you so much if you read till the end :) !! I did get stuck with some writers block in the middle of this and I'm not completely fulfilled w it but if I kept working on it it may take another week and my brain can't do it
Still working on requests rn so if you sent one in, I haven't forgotten about you!!! I'm trying to do two at a time so I can keep up (I won't burn myself out dw I usually do nothing all day till I work in the afternoon) <3
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