#it kills me that i can’t watch this on disney +!

[reyturnofbensolo]

Beyond the Shattered Sea is the BEST lil bit of fantasy to ever grace our modern mythology(better than D&D, GOT, Star Wars, and yes even Tolkien)! Lucasfilm strives to be GREAT(they keep giving us magnificent stories only to be pushed back by negativity)! I’m afraid that Disney and a toxic fandom will always be holding them back. The Last Jedi, Willow, and now The Acolyte proves what direction they want to be going in, but it’s always followed by a step back. It breaks my 💔…

GAWD I love Beyond the Shattered Sea! Masterful storytelling!! Thank you Jon Kasdan and company!🙏

[eupheme]

— double the pleasure, triple the fun

[part iii of come on and show me | masterlist]

logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson

rated e - 5.6k

tags: MMF threesome, mutual pining/crushes all around, dirty talk, poly relationship, multi-tasking, the world's worst romantic porposition, oral sex, vaginal fingering, ass play (fingering & rimming), double penetration, creampies, fluff and feelings

a/n: massive thank you to the wonderfully talented @avocado-writing, who kindly beta'd this for me! 💖

“Are you asking me out?” It comes slowly, in a rough rasp. 

It’s you that turns then, your eyes finding his. Your smile is sweet - a swirling heat of hope in your belly, “Depends on your answer.”

There’s something dark in his eyes. A curl of his lips, as his head dips. A kiss pressed against your spine, then lower. 

“Come on Wilson.” Logan husks, “Let’s get our girl ready.”

(Or, your two becomes three.)

“God, I want him to put a baby in me.”

Wade’s sigh rumbles beneath your ear, where your head cradles against his chest. 

Legs entwined as you stretch out together on the couch - a late-night wind-down after your boyfriend spent the evening picking out his To-Do List at Sister Margaret's.

To kill. Not fuck, apparently. Something he was quick to clarify.

“What are you watching?” Your eyes pull away from your own phone - seventeen chapters into an enemies-to-lovers slow burn you haven’t been able to put down all evening. 

A little stretch, as your head tilts to face him - knuckles propped under your chin, “That video has been looping for like, ten minutes.”

“And yet, still not long enough,” He sighs, flashing the screen at you, “Sir Mix-a-Lot, you never miss.”

The video flickers, a quick and skillful transition of clips - your eyes squinting at the screen from your angle.

“Is that... Logan?”

“Close, baby girl.” His finger boops against your nose, “Huge Ackman.”

There’s a little shake of your head, as your shoulder lifts, “I don’t know who that is.”

“And thank god,” He grins, letting the phone drop onto the cushions. A shift, as his hands dips against the small of your back, “If you did, you would divorce me so fast-“

Your eyes roll, as you bite back a grin, “I wouldn’t.”

“Definitely, maybe.”

Wade grunts as you push yourself with a huff - head dipping to press your lips against his. A low swirl in your belly, as his eyes go soft and his smile goes dopey. 

“I love you, Wade Winston Wilson,” You grin back, “New fake boyfriends and all, apparently.”

He hums, head tilting.

“And what about not-so-fake boyfriends?”

Your brow furrows.

“You are talking about Logan now, right?”

Wade’s knuckles brush your cheek, the humor in his eyes turning searching, “What do you think?”

And what a question it is. 

You’ve talked about it often. The occasional partner had cycled in for a night or two, but there had never been someone that struck you both like Logan had, arriving in your lives like a storm of thunder and lightning.

And you can’t deny that there’s feelings. Obvious ones, apparently, with how you acted in the past. Wade was still teasing you about your jealousy - you never had a handle on that emotion in the way he did. 

That innate knowledge of how he felt about someone, trusted them. Flirting was easy, but you’ve seen the way he looks at Logan, too.

It was different. Special.

“Two musketeers becoming the full set,” He holds his fingers up in front of you, two and then three, “Only unlike them, we’re fucking.”

You let out a sound of dissent, with the lift of a shoulder. 

“Oh, worm?” His brow raises, “Guess Disney wasn’t ready for that, either. Dibs on the religious one, then. I am a man of the cloth.”

“It’s a bad analogy, there’s four of them.”

He chuckles indulgently, “Okay, now I think you’re making things up-“

Now it’s your hand reaching, a finger tapping against his lips.

“I’d like that. I think Logan being our… boyfriend-” The word sends a rush of heat to your face as you stutter over it, Wade’s eyes gleaming.

“Oh my god, you are so fucking cute.” He crows, “We’ve fucked nasty-style and you can’t even say boyfriend-”

Your face buried in his chest, his name a muffled whine. A beat as the laughter still rumbles in his chest, before you peek at him.

“Do you think he wants that, too?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Wade hums, “That man is at least a 6 on the Yearning Richter scale. Felt by all, many frightened.”

You brighten at that prospect - your brain is already slipping ahead, “Do you think we should like, plan something? Ask him together?”

“Oh, don’t worry, gorgeous.” Wade grins.

“I’ll handle it.”

It's strange, seeing Logan in your space.

A good strange. A strange that feels nice - the subtle sweep of his eyes, as he takes in your apartment. The bag slung over his shoulder already tucked in your room, set on the ottoman at the foot of your bed.

He fits in, you think. Tucked into your couch as you put the finishing touches on dinner. Too used to being in their shared space at Wade’s. Of stolen moments when Althea was out. Hushed moments when she was home, muffled moans and bitten-back sighs.  

It will be nice to be able to take your time. 

They had arrived together, and there had been a certain thrill to that, too. 

Wade's knock that mimics the opening beats of "Smooth", before the door burst open. Funny to think about them crammed in a car together - they took Althea's, Wade tells you, when you later asked if they'd walked.

How he was already turning to you to referee, as you tip your head to kiss his cheek. 

"All I'm asking is if we're both sheathing our swords in the same scabbard, then why is he getting his panties in a twist about me putting my clothes in his bag?"

"Ignore him, sweetheart," Logan softens, leaning into the matching kiss you press against his jaw, "Been doing that for the last two months. It's good to see you."

And it is. Good to see both of them, something warm glowing bright in your chest.

The round table that always felt a little big for two feels perfect now - tucking between each other as dinner passes in a warm jumble of savory aromas and comfortable conversation. 

Smiling at the way they're both as engaged with your stories about your day, as you are about the work they've been doing together.

"-absolutely vaporized. It was disgusting, babe." Wade grimaces, "I was fine of course. Red, and all. But Lo here, eeugh. Still scrubbing the blood out of the nooks and crannies."

Logan makes a grunt of acknowledgement, "Had worse."

"Worse? Worse than getting gut-mist blasted across your chest?"

"I'll help, if you want." You offer, "Haven't seen your new suit yet."

At Wade's request, you try to keep out of his mercenary business - other than the stories he shares, the occasional repairs of his suit, or a late-night tryst. Doesn't want his life mixing, not after what's happened in the past. 

Dutiful boyfriend by day, mercenary by night. And also sometimes, by day. Evenings, weekends.

It’s an unsteady schedule, but it's one you've grown accustomed to. Maybe that’s what helps make this easy, the way you’ve already adjusted to mutant-regenerative-boyfriend-life. 

But it doesn't mean you're not curious. That you don't appreciate certain aspects when they’re offered for you explore - especially when they come in tightly wrapped in leather and lycra. 

And when you eventually rise to collect dishes, it's Logan that beats you to it. A finger sternly pointed towards the couch, Wade's hand at your back - already guiding you towards it, as you protest.

"Least we can do, sweetheart," Logan smiles, "Can't remember the last time I had a meal this good."

"Excuse me," Wade gasps, as he slips on elbow-length mis-matched gloves,"Did my midnight toaster strudels mean nothing to you?"

It's your turn now, to sit on the couch. To watch, as Wade supervises. The quiet talk that swiftly turns to bickering. A yelp and a splash of hot water, before he's retreating.

Sinking down on the seat next to you, as your thoughts swirl. Soft memories of past shared evenings, and the planting of something that you’ll tend to carefully, hoping it will flourish. 

"You're looking at him like he's got balls on his neck," Wade’s arm slings around your shoulders, tone knowing, "Got something on your mind, gorgeous?"

Your nose wrinkles at the visual, but then you turn thoughtful.

"Just like seeing both of you here." Your smile is soft, "It feels right, you know?"

He hums in agreement, and you glance his way, "Do you feel that way too?"

"Feels as right as Ryan Reynolds playing me in my upcoming biopic."

That has you cocking an eyebrow - whatever reference he's making flying over your head, "And that's... good?"

"Yeah, baby." He grins.

"Really fucking good." 

The hunger follows you into the bedroom, after. Your question about dessert gets swiftly turned around on you - hands catching at your waist. 

Threats and promises  to devour you instead - that the ice cream you bought can wait - as lips press against yours. Another mouth at your neck, in your slow and often-interrupted journey to the bedroom. 

Ganging up on you again, almost as if it were planned. 

And you’re not sure if it was, or whether they’ve unconsciously become more in-sync, between their hours together at the apartment and in their work. 

More alike than they are different, at their core - something you’re not sure you’d be able to convince them of, even though you see it.

It’s sweetly familiar, when you finally fall into bed together. Clothes already stripped off, a messy pile mixing together against the woven floral rug as you fit together. 

Spit pools on Logan’s tongue, as he sucks on his teeth. A low tilt of his head before his lips are parting, letting it drop where he has your thighs nudged apart, belly pressed down against the bed.

Warm, where it hits the cleft of your ass. His hand follows - a broad palm curving against soft skin, tugging you open. 

“What do I have to do to let me have you here?” Logan’s thumb smears his spit against the tight ring, voice low and honey-smooth. 

It makes you jolt, a soft sound pulling from your throat. Squirming, as his thumb comes back - rolling the pad against you. 

“She, shit-” Wade groans, as your mouth leaves his cock - the tip glistening as it drops against his belly, “Only lets people she’s dating fuck her ass.”

“Wade!” You whine, as your thighs try to close - Logan’s spreading to keep you open. 

A low rasp of a laugh, “Is that right?”

“Not me though. If you’re curious.” Wade hums, his arm still slung under the pillow, “Sometimes even a first date is too slow.”

Dark eyes drag up, to the shift of hips. Over the leaking cock, lying flushed and hard against Wade’s belly - something like hunger in the slow sweep up to the pulled-wide grin.

“This is you handling it?” You hiss.

“You’re acting like the man invented the elevator.” Wade shrugs - shifting to push himself up on an elbow, “Trust me, there is nothing more romantic than a ‘what are we’ conversation slipped into a discussion about double penetration. We’re multi-tasking, gorgeous.”

Some of the tension eases, with the way he smiles at you. There’s not an ounce of worry in his expression, only the dark shadow of desire, highlighted with humor. 

Waiting until you smile back, before he fixes Logan with a pointed look. 

“Look. I’m gonna level with you,” He sighs, as if divulging something imperative, ”Until you’re ready to commit to being Mr. Y/L/N, then fifth base is just gonna be out of the question.”

There’s the shake of a head, a low huff behind you. The slight stroke of fingers against your skin.

“Are you asking me out?” It comes slowly, in a rough rasp. As if putting pieces together. 

It’s you that turns then, your eyes finding his. Your smile is sweet - a swirling heat of hope in your belly, “Depends on your answer.”

There’s something dark in his eyes. A curl of his lips, as his head dips.

A kiss pressed against your spine, then lower. 

“Come on Wilson.” He husks, “Let’s get our girl ready.”

A moan rips from you. First, from his words - the jolting butterflies in your belly, a pooling warmth. The sound lengthening, as his tongue flattens where his fingers had teased. Your back arches as Wade pumps his fist, before throwing a filthy “I-Told-You-So” smirk your way.

It glances off you. Your fingers curled in the sheets, as Logan shoulders your thighs further apart. A wet swipe that travels from your cunt to your hole, smearing your slick and his spit against your skin. 

A finger nudging against you, as Wade leans - hand fumbling for the handle of the bedside table. 

“You think you can take both of us?” Logan purrs, as he carefully works you open. A fingertip sinking inside you, as you whine. 

”What, you think we were joking about role-playing?” Wade scoffs,”Why did you think all the dinner knives were missing? Lost ‘em all beneath the bed.”

There’s a shuffle, as he works himself further beneath you. A bottle of lube dropped on the bedspread, as his fingers reach - petting against your clit.

“Tried two before, didn’t we gorgeous? Me and the Pulverine, as we call him.” Wade coos, “Not as big as you, of course. But definitely a lot more sparkly.” 

“Toy’s not the same thing,” Logan hums, as you clench around him. Sinking deeper, slowly pumping, “‘s gonna be a tight fit, baby.”

The sensations are already overwhelming. Wade’s fingers slipping down - fitting one, and then two fingers inside your slick pussy. His thumb nudging against your clit, teasing.

Logan’s weight against you, shifting as his hips grind into the mattress. The messy swirl of his tongue, more spit added to the mess. His thick finger already feels like a lot, pressed down to the knuckle. Slow in the way he works you open, the hot embers in your belly roaring brighter.

“I want it.” You moan, “Want both of you.” 

Wanted it for a while now. Wondered if they’d take you like this. If you’d be able to take them, stuffed so full you could barely draw breath. Wanting to know what it feels like to come, with both of them pressed to the hilt inside you. 

Words fail you, soon after. There’s the cold smear of lube against your skin, a second finger notched. Your cry muffled with the press of Wade’s lips, tilting your face to his as their fingers find their rhythm together.

That steady swirl against your clit. How you’re clenching around them, your arousal slick on Wade’s palm. The sharp rhythmic slap ringing through your ears as you pant into his mouth. Logan’s teeth against the soft curve of your ass, a muffled groan as he fits a second inside you. 

It’s a mimicry of later, but it’s enough. Something bright burning in your belly, fueled by their desire. Hot breath against your skin, Wade’s cock grinding into your hip. 

“Come on, gorgeous.” He murmurs against you, “Let me feel you come with his fingers buried in your ass.”

You choke on your moan. Hips shifting, pushing one deeper and then the other as you chase the building high. The sharp stretch long spooling into pleasure, twisting around your guts, shimmering. 

“‘m gonna-” It’s breathed out, your eyes screwing shut. Focused on the countdown  that’s begun inside you, swiftly approaching with each crook of their fingers, “Fuck, I’m-”

Logan shifts, his breath ghosting against your spine, “Come for us, sweetheart.”

For us. 

Your face buries against Wade’s shoulder, as they bring you over the edge together. Working in tandem to take you apart, and they haven’t even really begun - fingers crooking and curling as a bright pleasure blooms in your belly. 

Wade had been right - it’s not the first time you’ve been full like this. But Logan was right, too. It’s different - the way you can feel them move together, as you whine. The orgasm ripples through you, the sensations drawing out as kisses are dropped between your shoulder blades. 

Soft crooning in your ear, but it’s all muted - barely aware of the palms that run across your skin. The press of mouths against your heated skin - until the pulses in your core fades, the room coming back into focus. 

They slip from you - first Wade, and then Logan. You’ve felt empty before but never like this, already missing the weight inside you. Craving more.

There’s a shift on the bed, Logan shouldering himself next to Wade, who you’re still stretched out on. 

“C’mere, baby. Fuck, need to feel you.”

Hand at your hips, coaxing you up. Encouraging you to straddle his thighs, but then Wade is tsking - reaching for you, trying to turn you around.

“Annnd I just gave myself a promotion to Director,” He adds with a long-suffering sigh, “When you want something done right, gotta do it yourself.”

Logan growls, as your weight leaves him, “The fuck you talking about?”

Wade’s brow arches, “The fuck I’m talking about is you doing this all wrong, peanut. When was the last time you partook in the devil’s threeway? Was it this century, at least?”

Hand gentle as he guides you to face away from Logan, your ass settling against the cradle of his hips.

“There you go,” He coos, “How am I going to give your pretty little kitty the attention she deserves if you have her all hidden away?”

Logan’s hard cock nestles against your belly, as your knees press into the mattress. Breath hitching as you gauge the size of him again. Hoping that the prep he did was enough - the soft buzz beneath your skin certainly has you feeling more than ready.

Slicking your fingers with more lube before they wrap around his shaft - a rough hiss sliding from his throat as they circle around, squeezing. Smearing it against swollen flesh, thumbing over the leaking head as you line yourself up. 

Wade shifting to watch, his head tilted against Logan’s shoulder, his fist already wrapped around his cock as you start to slowly sink down. 

“Sit on it, sweetheart, there you go.” Logan growls, as he breaches you. 

A sharp, inhaled breath as the tip sinks inside you. The building pressure and then the give - as you try not to clench down.

Pulling a rough sound from him. Fingers twitching at your hips - set on only steadying you. A rough edge creeping into his soft encouragement, “Nice and easy, baby.”

Another inch, but it feels like double. Sweat beading along the nape of your neck, as you stretch around him.

“Doing so good,” He rasps, “Take it slow.”

“Taking it like a fucking champ, baby.” Wade interjects, “Couldn’t have done it better myself, and Levy knows how often I thought about it.”

Your nails bite into his thighs, but it only makes his hips flex. Twin moans when it nudges him the rest of the way - your breath stolen when he’s seated flush inside you.

Not that different than when Wade’s fucked you, even with the length he’s got on Logan. But it’s the girth that has your lips parting - a ragged moan with the experimental roll of your hips.

“Pretty fucking sight.” Logan groans, through gritted teeth. Palms slipping around, gently tugging you back towards his chest.

His growl low in your ear, as his hips lift in an experiment thrust.

“Gonna stuff you full, gonna let us do the work.” He husks, a hissed breath when you clench around him. “Make you feel good, alright?”

Palming at your tits, as Wade shifts into position. Swallowing your begging, whined out “please-” as he kisses down your throat. 

Over your breasts. The back of Logan’s hand, against the curve of your belly. His fist still working at his cock, an audible moan of appreciation when he settles between Logan’s thighs.

“You look so good full of him.” It’s mumbled out against your hip, “God, I want to jerk off to this and let you use my cum as lube.”

Logan’s fingers tighten - pinching a peaked nipple as you moan, as kisses are peppered against your mound.

“Fuck us into your tight ass.”

You cry out, when his tongue flattens against your clit. Fingers teasing at your hole, dipping inside to test how full you feel. 

“Soaking wet, baby. You feeling good?” Wade croons, “Or does your greedy little pussy need more?”

“Wade,” You keen, desperate. Rocking into the slow pump of Logan’s hips, his breath harsh in your ear.

His fingers crook, and curl.

“You want us to take you there and back again to pound town?” 

“I swear to god,” You pant, desperate, “If you don’t get inside me, I’ll-, I’ll call Nate.”

His eyes gleam, “That right? Still thinking about riding the ol’ Cable car?”

It’s Logan’s added growl that finally gets him moving. A smile still pulling wide, as he slips from you. His own desperation betrayed by the wet smear against his belly.

The slick tip of his cock, as he ruts against your folds. Your breath held, as he notches himself.

His dark eyes on your blown-wide ones, as he starts to sink in. It has your thighs trembling, as you whine. Clenching down without meaning to, as Logan groans.

Feeling the way he inches into you. What little space left filled as your pussy makes room for him. The tight clutch of your walls, a moan at the way he can feel Logan through the thin layer of skin between them.

A choked-out moan punched from his chest. 

“Made to take us both. Weren’t you, gorgeous?” He murmurs, as his hips move, “Goddamn perfect fit.”

They both move inside you. Stilted thrusts, off rhythm as you squirm between them. Logan getting impatient - throwing a glare Wade’s way.

“Stop moving when I do.”

It’s met with a laugh, as Wade’s hip snap a little harder. Filling you, the force jolting you against Logan, as your nails bite into his biceps.

“I’m driving this thing.” He counters, “Call me Sandra Bullock, because I’m not about to let this bus dip below 50.”

His hand catching Logan’s wrist - resistance when he tugs, but then it’s going with him. Fitting the curve of his fingers against the base of your throat.

“You do what you do best and be the anchor. Keep her still for me, will you?” 

Logan’s fingers flex, but he grunts - the slightest pressure against your chest. 

A pat against your hip, with a wink, “Let Daddypool do all the work.”

You huff, but the sound turns strangled as the sets the pace. Hands at your hips, tugging you to meet his thrusts. Fucking you back on to Logan, when his weight presses into you.

“There we fucking go. How you feeling, baby?”

“Feels so good,”You gasp, as the movement gets familiar. The slick slide of them inside you, the back and forth as they stroke your walls, as your arousal gleams against their cocks. 

“Know it does.” Wade grins, “They don’t call me DP for nothing.”

Logan grunts beneath you. Something biting held back - distracted, as his other hand wanders. Slipping across your hip, then down.

Tracing over your mound. Feather-light against your folds, feeling how you stretch open each time Wade goes balls-deep. 

Your moan coming out ragged, when he teases your clit. Soft strokes with the pad of his finger, before two press and circle.

It makes you jolt, his laugh low in your ear.

Finding that familiar rhythm. Feeling the way your hips flex, seeking out his touch. How easily he’s able to wind you up now, from the times he’s taken you apart. 

How it’s almost overwhelming, with the stuffed-full pressure of them inside you. With the saw of Wade’s hips, as his cock nudges against the spongy spot inside you.

A rough hum when you clench down. Unable to do more than take what he gives you, with the way Logan cradles you against his chest.

It only adds to the surge of pleasure inside you. A near-divine pairing of sensations that has your fingers reaching, Wade’s name a soft cry on your lips. 

He flattens against you, to meet the way your mouth tips up. It’s messy, open-mouthed as his hips slow to a grind. Hands skating up your body, against hips and waist.

Letting him in when he deepens it. A groan as he licks against your teeth. Needy presses of his mouth, spit smeared across your lips when it breaks. Another kiss  peppered against your jaw, where Logan groans into your ear. 

A unconscious shift of his head, and then their lips are brushing.

Logan’s cock throbs inside you, as Wade goes stiff and still. It’s softer than it should be - no more than a shared breath, before Wade pulls back. 

The hand at your neck flexes. Loosens, as it slips between you. Wrapping around the back of Wade’s neck as he yanks him back down.

A growled out “fuck” when they meet again, insistant this time. Vicious with the scrape of teeth, the wet swipe of tongue as Logan’s nails bite into skin.

Messy, as they pant into each other's mouths. Calloused fingers drifting down from your clit to split against your folds. Teasing where you’re filled, as Wade’s moan turns filthy.

A matching sound escaping from Logan, long held back. 

“Fucking holding out on me,” Wade mumbles, when the kiss breaks, “Haven’t been this wet since Cap’s beard reveal.”

Eyes dark, when he feels how Logan moves inside you. Forgetting himself, as he chases the pleasure that threatens to peak inside him.

“Bet you love knowing you’ve been in all of our girl’s holes. Don’t you, handsome?” Wade grins. Eyes still watchful - catching the clench of a jaw, as his lips return to yours.

The kiss is sweeter this time, even as he begins to drive into you. Each of your breaths coming in a whining gasp, pleasure once again winding inside you.

His mouth running away from him, determined to send you both over, ”Should let me into some of yours. You know I’d treat you right.”

“Shut the fuck up. C-Can’t come with you running your mouth.” It’s panted out - half-hearted at best, and Wade’s eyes gleam.

“Fucking liar.” He crows, “Bet you jerk it all the time to the thought of us screaming your name.”

Voice pitches up then, in a mimicry of yours, “Oh, Logan. Fuck me right there with your monster dick-”

Logan strings tight beneath you with a snarl, as he tries to bury himself in your ass. The hand at your neck dipping to grasp at your hip, as the practiced rhythm turns sloppy.

Wade shifts - his weight leaned into your hips. Pinning you both down as he fucks into you, stroke after stroke.  

Logan’s touch is sloppy against your clit - but with the way your boyfriend’s cock pounds against that spot inside you, it’s enough.

You don’t even realize you’re whimpering. The way their names string together, the “please, please, please-” that catches in your throat.  

“You gonna come too, baby?” He coos - thrilled, “You’re both so fucking easy, aren’t you?”

Logan moans in your ear when you squeeze around him, fingers pressing harder. A little faster, and with the next plunge of Wade’s cock - you shatter. 

It’s all white noise, the faded star stickers on the ceiling becoming swirling the sky above as you’re pulled under. 

Helpless, with the way you’re pinned between them. Coming again with the tight swirls against your clit, with them fully sheathed inside you. 

The tight pulse of your orgasm around his sends Logan over. 

Even with Wade’s weight his hips still lift as he bows off the bed. A wounded groan, as he comes with you clenching down around him. Grinding himself into your hole as his cock throbs, emptying himself into you. 

There’s a sing-songed and muted “money shot” that has you groaning. Half-exasperation, half-mindless pleasure, as Logan’s hands roam. Holding you against him, ragged breath against your neck as you milk him empty.

Keeping you stuffed full, hilting his cock deeper when you squirm. Leaving Wade to catch up.

Shameless in the way he watches now, as molten pleasure thrums in your veins. Leaning back to see how you take them both. Picturing how you’ll look after, thoroughly-fucked holes that will drip with them until morning. 

Doesn’t notice when his breath turns short, but you do. 

“Wanna feel you come, baby.” You coo, your smile soft and pleasure-drunk. 

Hands tracing over his, overlapping and squeezing. The shallow lift of your hips to meet his thrusts, purposely squeezing him when he inches out - trying to keep him in.

“Make a fucking mess, Red.” Logan growls - joining you, “Let me feel you come inside her.”

“Jesus Titty-Fucking Christ,” The rough laugh turns into a groan, “Think I’m going to blow two loads at once-”

Hands overlapping, grasping on, holding you, as his hips pump faster. Head tipping - fitting between yours and Logans - as his back bows. 

Coming inside you with a muttered out “oh fuck. fuck yes-”, cock jerking with each needy rut of his hips. The sound turns into a whine when teeth sink his neck, hard enough to bruise. 

Yours on the other side, your soft moan in his ear as you feel the way he throbs as he spills into you again, and again. 

Intense, in a way you’ve never felt before. A connection that loops through you - from the press of your mouths, down to where you fit together. 

It’s fortunate that Logan’s hands still fit at your hips, with how fucked-out and boneless you feel. Trading one cock for another was one thing, but this - being claimed by both of them, the phantom ache as Logan withdraws- it’s something else entirely. 

Your head dropping back to rest against his shoulder, eyes heavy-lidded as you wait for your pulse to stop galloping. Logan’s nose ghosting against your temple, an arm still thrown around your hips. 

A hiss, when Wade slips from you. You can feel the mess they’ve made, sticky against your thighs. How they drip from your fucked-out holes, when you clench around nothing. 

It must do something to him, the way Wade moans when he sits back. Fingers raising - mimicking a camera, complete with the click of his tongue as the shutter. 

“If that doesn’t win me an academy award,” He hums thoughtfully.

“Then I don’t know what the fuck will.”

Time slows down, after. The low hum of artificial rain from a device on your dresser, layering with the muted city outside. Doesn’t know if it’s minutes or hours since he last moved, and he really can’t bring himself to care.

As long as it’s still dark, then he knows they’ve still got time. 

“So are you going to bake us a sex cake?” Wade yawns, “You know, for completely rocking your shit.”

“A what?” You stir against him - an eye cracking open. 

Logan grunts, his face buried in your shoulder. A hand splayed across your belly, a tug as he pulls you closer.

“Oh my god,” Wade chuckles to himself, “There I go, mixing up timelines again. I infinitely prefer this one, by the way.”

Logan lets the two of you bicker, his eyes slipping shut again. 

Your apartment is quieter than Wade’s. The bed comparable to the one they shared last time. Can’t remember the last time he’s felt a warmth like this. 

Soft, where your back tucks against his chest. His hand shifts to your hip, curving against soft flesh. Wade’s hand rests close enough to touch, fingers just brushing. Facing you, thighs twined together as he sandwiches you between them.

The shower had been nicer, as well. Snug, when you had pulled them in with you. Taking turns under the warm spray. He had commented on it - a way to drag out the scratch of fingers through his hair. The swirl of soap against his skin, and he had been too blissed out to bother with the facade when a second set of hands grabbed his ass. 

Staying just a little longer, as their hands found their way between your thighs. Wade thumbing at your clit as his own fingers fucked the cum deeper into your cunt. Twin marks sucked into your neck, as your legs threatened to give out - still shaky from before.

You stir against him. Words heavy with sleep.

“Wade didn’t say it earlier.” You yawn - shuffling, so you can help over to face him. 

Logan’s brow rises, as you clarify.

“There’s a caveat to our earlier question.”

“Good word choice.” Wade hums, “11 points, and I bet you were a real pleasure to have in class.”

A low chuckle, when your hips press back against his in warning - as your eyes flip up to Logan’s. 

“It’s a two-for-one deal,” The corner of your lips tug up, “It’s both of us, or nothing.”

“All for one, and one for all,” Wade’s chin hooks over your shoulder, ignoring how you elbow him, “And can you really afford not to take that?”

Supposes it’s cute, that you think you have to tell him this. That his eyes haven’t equally wandered, even if it’s only half-admitted. Too caught on wondering if the only something good he had will change, if he truly allows himself to want something. 

That it’s not only the feeling of your mouths on his cock that he revisits, though he does think of that often.

There’s other moments as well. Squeezing hands and smiles and the way you both look at him. The toothbrush that you had ready tonight, just incase he forgot his. The handle blue, when he slipped it in the cup - tucked next to red and purple.

Your words still spark brightly in his chest, settling low behind his ribs. It quells an uneasy twist that’s been lingering there for the past few weeks. 

Something unsteady, finally finding purchase. 

“Don’t know why you’re clarifying though, gorgeous.” His cheek rubs against yours like a cat. Those brown eyes meet his as well, and it’s hard to bite back the low inhale of breath.

“Considering he tongue-fucked the shit out of me earlier, I think he’s good.”

He huffs in reply, but he can’t bite back the curve of his lips. Not anymore - and he finds that he doesn’t want to.

“Yeah.” Logan agrees. That something turning soft inside him, the smile pulling just a little wider. 

“I’m good.”

thanks so much for reading!! 💖 there's a couple more moments I'd love to explore with them in the future! (but in case I'm not able to, I wanted to end it on this sweet note between them all. )

[scoutswritingcorner]

More Papa Headcanons!

PLATONIC Papa!Alastor & GN!Child!Reader

Angst Flavored~

First Part

TW: ANGST- Just a teeny tiny bit. For the soul. Oh and Susan is mentioned.

A/N: Enjoy~

I usually leave this part up to you guys, the readers of my ramblings, but what if you were born out of wedlock? You are technically Alastor’s bastard child. Especially during that time period? That was greatly frowned upon and you never knew who your mother was! But despite all of that, Alastor and his Mom adored you. (Don’t get me wrong she probably chewed his ass out for it but she adored you.) 

Now, as you grew older people started saying it to your face, even kids at your school. But everytime you brought it up to Alastor he got angry, not at you, so he teaches you how to defend yourself and makes sure that you know to never start a fight. 

But once in hell, the name still sticks. Susan once overheard Alastor and Rosie’s conversation about it and called you that to your face. (Mean ass old woman right there.) And to say you were upset was an understatement, you knew better than to get into adult’s business but you just ran to your Papa sobbing cause you had thought you escaped that treatment. Despite being in Hell. You’re just clinging to his pants as you try your darndest not to cry but gosh the words keep echoing, both Rosie and Alastor are immediately worried about you. Cause you never cry or cause too much trouble!

Once they hear what Susan said? Rosie has to keep Alastor from flipping his lid. You stay by his side the rest of the day too scared to go play with the other kids in Cannibal Town. It shouldn’t bother you too much but you’ve been called that your entire few years of living and now it’s followed you down to Hell? What if the others start doing such a thing? 

Not to worry, Auntie Rosie shuts the whole thing down if she even catches a whiff of it. 

NOW ONTO NICER THINGS-

Full credit to @aceblaze01 for the idea of Vox being in Child!Reader’s afterlife! Especially when he and Alastor were hanging out(idk if I should call them partners). He was like an odd Uncle to you! Also 100% would let you watch kids cartoons on his screen, but you were so confused by it that you stood there staring at him before finally getting comfortable to sit down and watch those weird picture shows your papa talked about. He would totally put on Disney films for you. 

You watched Bambi once and ended up crying. He had to hold you and calm you down before Alastor was alerted. After that he stuck with everything else but Bambi. 

You sometimes go with Alastor to Overlord meetings and sit next to him drawing, not paying any mind to what’s going on either. You mostly draw your Papa and Auntie Rosie but you’ve started to draw Vox and that man cries when you hand him the drawings of him with very shaky handwriting and misspelled words. He loves it and keeps it hung up on his wall framed and everything. You gave a drawing to a lot of the nicer Overlords as a thank you for letting you join with your Papa. You gave one to Zestial, Carmilla and many of the unnamed ones that didn’t look too scary..you gave those to your Papa so he can give it to them. 

Even after all those years and Alastor’s falling out with Vox as a whole, he kept your drawings still safely framed. He doesn’t have the heart to get rid of them. Valentino said one bad thing about them and got the shock of his afterlife. That’s the last time he brought it up. He still checks up on you, makes sure you're alright. Even though he can’t physically be next to you cause Alastor would lose his fucking shit, he makes sure he has people check up on you. 

Vox has killed people who even thought of putting a hit out on you before Alastor ever caught wind about it. He’s not a man to play around with when it comes to you- his little niece/nephew/nibling (gender neutral term for niece/nephew).

During exterminations? Alastor stays with you the whole time. He doesn’t need anything hurting you. He keeps you in his room with books and anything else you want to bring. When you're in the hotel and extermination is around the corner, while the hotel is relatively safe. He still makes sure you stay far away from any doors leading to the outside. 

Oh boy, you are the only one able to sit in his tower with him while he works! He has a chair designated for you and will answer any and all questions about his work (even if they do get silly and repetitive). You’ll fall asleep sometimes when he’s on air and he doesn’t miss a beat wrapping his jacket around you as he continues to talk.

Taglist: @littledolly2345, @aboyscriminalrecord

[aryxchse]

hii! could you do f! reader dating percy headcannons? i loved you jason grace one <33, thanks!! but also no worries if you can’t do it

ocean eyes. | percy jackson x fem!reader

a / n : i 💃🏻 am 💃🏻 on 💃🏻 to 💃🏻 see 💃🏻 my 💃🏻 husband 💃🏻

warnings : percy jackson's hot self, cursing

- alright mr obsessed af

- dating with him is like dating with a mama's boy who never leaves his mama's side

- you are the mama btw

- constantly hugging you, or has an hand on you, follows you around like a puppy etc

- overprotective, possesive, jealous, would kill someone for you, obsessed

- those are his red flags

- i won't write green flags because it doesn't end

- the only main problem is his fame

- at least five people falls in love with him the moment he enters somewhere

- but, he's only looking at you ofc

- 'everybody's watching him, but he's looking at you-u-u-uu'

- he does have girl friends but you know them all

- you know when he's shitting at this point

- the type of guy who does something and it looks unintentionally hot

- but he doesn't get why you're drooling all of a sudden

- hearts from water in the lake

- matching outfits

- sleepovers in his cabin, because cabin 3 has a calming aura

- being the mom and dad of the camp and leading the activities

- do i have to mention that sally knows you before he even introduced her to you??

- swimming in a bubble, exploring the sea

- wearing his silly shirts

- you constantly break the dressing code just to wear his sea creature shirts

- sword practicing together

- exploring the camp's forests

- sneaking out from the camp just to see a movie or visit an aquarium

- long talks under the cozy blankets

- matching shark plushies that are married

- your shark is pink

- "jewel told me that blue made her upset."

- "no worries, i already beat the shit out of him."

- dirty words whispered in your ear out of nowhere

- like, now-i-have-a-pool-between-my-legs kinda dirty

- he loves playing sports, he doesn't only swims, so you can often cheer for him on his multiple games

- like that one night he organised a football game night with the gang, and as girlfriends you cheered the boys

- wearing his jumpers that has your lucky number behind it

- kissing you after winning the match

- serious talks that turns into a therapy session

- carrying eachothers ugly childhood pictures in your wallet

- shopping together to buy camp's needs

- surfing together

- hanging out in the nyc on his skateboard

- constantly going on an adventure

- loving the shitty quests like 'finding hecate a special gemstone' or 'stealing aphrodite's hair clip from the museum'

- being in love with either or both of you is the camp's rite of passage at this point

- inside jokes

- babysitting estelle

- dancing in the kitchen

- you may think it's romantic like any other couples do but you guys dance to disney songs while both of you pant from jumping

- going to greek mythology musicals like hadestown

- dating with percy is like dating with that one boy best friend of yours that you loved all of your life and realised he was the one this entire time

[diaryofaprettyprincess]

thinking some thoughts about ghost x sunshine!disneyprincess-energy!reader..

OKAY THESE ARE JUST SOME CUTE THIUGHTS BUT LIKE OKAY. what if reader is just so incredibly sweet to everyone and everything n simon is just standing behind her like a guard, all scary and intimidating.. like shes such a disney princess!! BUTBUT what if she teaches him how to be gentle?? like he’s spent so many years of his life killing people for his job and using his hands to hurt others for his work. he’s been told his whole life that he needs to toughen up, so what if reader just completely brings out the incredibly soft side of him that he didn’t even know was there?

i can just imagine reader doing cute things and simon standing idly by whilst she picks flowers from the ground to put in her purse so she can make pressed flowers bookmarks for the both of them?? his heart just melts at the sight when you knelt down to pick some pretty yellow flowers in the summertime when you two went for a nice summer’s evening walk.

or you find this like baby chick by your home (cuz u both live in a cottage area, duh) and its wing is hurt so you squat down; a bright, but kind, grin on your face. you put your hands outward in a bowl-like shape, sweetly whispering to the injured creature as it chirps, “cmere, you poor thing..” when the chick waddles in your hands, simon swears you must be a fairy of some sort. simon watches you intently--one of his favorite activities. the way the chick trusts you immediately..he can’t take it you are so perfect.

the yellow fuzz ball of a chick chirps every so often, and you use gentle hands to pet it before standing up and looking up at simon, eyes wide and full of joy.

he smiles, his cheeks dimpling when you giggle and pet the chick.

“you wanna hold him?” you ask quietly, as to not threaten the bird—or possibly to relax simon’s tense body. before he can respond, you say, “here, open your hand---"

he hesitates. “what if i hurt it?“ he asks, genuine concern sounding in his gruff voice (although it's more quiet than usual as to not frighten the chicklet).

you pout slightly, glossy lips turned down.

“you won’t," you begin with a comforting smile, trying to comfort your burly boyfriend. simon nibbles his bottom lip as he glances his dark eyes from you, then to the bird, then you again. "i promise you won't hurt 'im, simmey. hold him like you hold me when im sad! okay?"

he nods faintly, letting out a small chuckle.

carefully, you bring the baby chick closer to him as you tell him to cup his hands together.

his body is stiff as he holds the chick, small chirps from the animal making him nervous.

“see? you’re doin so good, simmey !!” you encourage, running a comforting hand along his tattooed bicep. the chick is completely dwarfed in ghost’s tattooed, scarred hands.

something so innocent being cared for by someone so..not.

like the relationship between the two of you.

not that simon was a bad man—far from it. he just never knew the power of being gentle.

and he was so grateful that you brought that out of him; a soft, loving gaze and smile set on his hardened features as he watched you stand on your tippy toes and pet the bird gently with your pointer finger.

[froggiewrites]

I know you’re not taking requests rn BUT if in the future you wouldn’t mind and think it’s fun: I was working and had disney’s mulan (1998 obviously) in the background, hadn’t watched in a while so I did laugh when mulan was practicing acting like a man and said “ha! I see you have a sword, I have one too! they’re very manly-” and just drops the sword. What if reader had to go undercover as swordsman somewhere and they ask zoro for help/pointers and they do this really bad act in front of him? or maybe it’s something like a first meeting kind of thing where the reader is trying to blend in to escape or something and encounters zoro, does this horrible act and ends up confessing and asking for help? I just think this would be hilarious bc zoro might seem and feel very offended but has probably experienced worse with the crew’s jokes and if feelings are involved he could be like “why am I attracted to this idiot?”, affectionately ofc lol

I had a lot of fun with this one, anon. Mulan is tied for my favorite Disney movie, so I was already super on board with this request, and then as I started writing it just started getting really silly. I hope you enjoy it!!

Make a (Swords)Man Out of You

Pairing: Zoro x Reader

SFW

Summary: Your attempt to go undercover as a master swordsman isn't going particularly well. A kind (if somewhat grumpy) stranger offers you some lessons to help keep up the ruse. Warnings: Fluff, Reader is a loser (affectionate) in this one, Zoro is also a bit of a loser Word Count: 2.5k

You were seriously going to get yourself killed.

You were convinced this was going to be easy. You’d tricked people before, and frankly, how hard could it be to use a sword? You don’t need to pretend to be the best swordsman, just a swordsman!

It turns out using a sword is, admittedly, kind of hard.

You couldn’t count on one hand the amount of times you had nearly cut yourself, or the blade had slipped from your hands, or you ended up not slicing through anything because you messed up your swing. You try to tell yourself over and over again that you don’t need to be the best, just mediocre, but you can’t even manage that at this point. You’re going to get caught. You’ve been undercover in this group for a week now, and you’ve managed to avoid any actual swordplay so far, but you can’t keep this up for long. Not only have you not found the treasure you wanted, you’re probably going to get your head sliced off before you find even a hint of it’s location. 

So here you are, in the middle of the night, trying and once again failing to make a dent on this stupid training dummy.

“You’re not holding it right.”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of a man’s voice behind you. You whip around to see another mysterious swordsman who showed up a few days ago and immediately wiped the floor with several members of the group. You had no idea why he was here, considering he didn’t seem nearly as interested in mindless violence or ill-gotten gains as the rest of the people here. You couldn’t quite recall his name.

“I know what I’m doing,” you grumble, unconvincingly.

“Oh yeah?” He has a smug grin on his face, one that just screams I know more than you and we both know it. “Will you show me, then?”

This is it. You’re caught, he’s going to tell, and you’re going to get sliced to a billion little pieces. You try to keep your cool, to steady your breath and lie through your teeth as you have been all week, but something about him just cuts to your core and you break. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

He takes a step back at the panic in your voice, immediately looking unsure at the sight of your tears. “I’m not–I–Stop crying!” He says it roughly, more of a command than anything else, which only makes you cry harder.

“Please, I don’t want them to kill me! I didn’t think it’d be this hard! I just wanted some treasure, is that so wrong? Life is expensive!” Your blubber would be embarrassing if you had any coherent thoughts through your fear.

“Who said anything about killing you?” He moves forward, his hand covering your mouth and muffling your sobs and panicked words. “And seriously, stop crying. You’re being too damn loud, you’re going to get yourself caught! God, it’s a wonder you haven’t been caught already. You’re so obvious I knew from the moment I walked in you were trying to run some kind of con.”

You try to ask him how he knew immediately, but the words don’t make it through his palm.

“Stop talking. It’s fine. No one’s going to kill you.”

You think he can hear you promise? through his hand.

“Yes, I promise. Just…stop.”

He frees your mouth, and you take a deep and steadying breath.

“So why are you pretending to be a swordsman?”

“These bandits have been stealing a lot from people here, and I heard they stole a big priceless artifact from a nobleman. I figure if I get that, I can get off the island, sell it, and be set for life.”

“So you said you were a master swordsman?”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t think about lying about anything more believable?”

“They said they needed one. And I didn’t think I’d be this bad at it.”

He closes his eyes, pondering a moment. “You do seem pretty uniquely terrible at this.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“No problem.”

You try to steady your breath, and while you do, he takes your hands in his, turning them over and glaring at them as though they were an insult.

“Why are they so soft?”

“What?”

“Your hands. They’re too soft. You don’t have a single callus.”

“Why are you saying that like it’s a bad thing?”

“It means you don’t do anything with them. It means you definitely don’t hold a sword. If anyone here were capable you’d have been out on your ass day one.”

“I don’t think most people would notice that.”

“Any decent swordsman would. You’re damn lucky I’m the only one here.”

You want to scoff, to ask him what makes him so qualified, but you know he could sound the alarm at any moment, and it’s stupid to piss off a man who holds your life in his hands. “Why haven’t you turned me in already?”

He scoffs. “Why would I?”

“They’d probably give you a reward or something. You don’t get anything out of helping me.”

“What, are you trying to convince me to do it?”

Your heart clenches, your voice raising with fear. “No!”

He shushes you harshly. “God, it was a joke! Be quiet!”

You shrink in on yourself, covering your mouth before he gets the chance.

He sighs. “You’re terrible at this. Why the hell did you think you could keep up this act?”

“I’ve tricked people before!”

“Did those people have swords?”

“...No.”

“Did you keep up an act for weeks at a time?”

“Well–”

“Yes or no.”

“...No.”

He pinches his forehead, muttering something under his breath about an idiot you remind him of, and you pout indignantly. 

“I’m not an idiot!”

“Oh yeah? Because everything I’ve seen tonight has been pretty dumb.”

“Okay, well why are you here then, genius?”

He goes quiet, his eyes sliding away from yours.

“What, no answer?”

He mumbles something.

“What was that?”

You can barely hear the words, almost lost as he whispers them, his head tilted down in embarrassment. “I got lost.”

You can’t help the bark of a laugh that leaves you. “What?”

“I got lost! I was going to find my ship and I got turned around, so I decided to stay and see what this place was about! So what?”

“You got lost so you decided to join a group of bandits? And you’ve been here for days! Don’t you have anybody looking for you?”

“They’ll show up eventually!”

“Why didn’t you just ask for directions?”

“I don’t need directions!”

“Clearly, you do!”

You both groan in unison at the other, fighting frustration. You aren’t in much of a position to judge, but how could a person be more helpless? At least you got yourself into trouble on purpose.

“Where is your ship supposed to be docked?”

“I don’t remember exactly, it was near an opera house.”

“An…opera house?”

“Yeah?”

You cannot believe this is happening. “We don’t have one of those.”

“What?”

“There isn’t an opera house on this island. The closest one is a day’s ferry trip away. How the hell did you get here?”

“I walked.”

“That literally cannot be true! Like physically!”

“Well it is! So you must have forgotten!”

“Forgotten about the layout of the island I’ve lived my entire life on? Really?”

“God, you’re so annoying. I can’t believe I was going to help you.”

You pause. “You were going to help me? With what?”

“With swordplay! Obviously! You can’t even hold the damn thing right, you clearly need it.” He’s pouting, his lower lip jutted out like a child about to throw a tantrum. You just barely hold yourself back from telling himself that. As fun as it may be to taunt him, you really do need the help.

You can swallow your pride for the night. If everything works out, maybe you can make fun of him for this later. “...Would you still be willing to help me?”

“Why should I?”

“I can get you back to your ship. After I get the treasure, I mean.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“No offense, but you definitely do. And I kind of want to go with you anyway. I’m a little worried you’ll just walk off into the ocean if I don’t.”

He glares at you, eyes raking up and down your form, considering for a moment. He sighs. “Fine, I guess I can help.”

You feel hopeful for the first time in a while. Your new friend, who informs you his name is Zoro, seems rather skilled. Maybe this plan won’t get you killed after all!

Two days later you’re kicking yourself for daring to think that even for a second.

“How the hell are you still doing it wrong?” His hands are on your back again, adjusting your posture for the twentieth time today. “How hard can it be just to swing a sword?”

“It’s not! I’ve been swinging it this whole time!” You aggressively bring the blade down on the training dummy you two had stolen for your lessons. Zoro had thought you would need a day at most to get the basics down, but you were nearing the end of day two and making absolutely no progress.

He sighs, wrapping his arms around you, pressing his chest to your back as he adjusts your hold. You try not to blush as you ask, “What are you doing?”

“Fixing your hold. Come on, we’re going to swing it together. Clearly just telling you isn’t working, but maybe this will.” He puts his hands over yours, and you feel the heat radiating off of him. You try to focus on the movement as he guides you, but you can’t help but be distracted by the feeling of his muscles against your back. “Did you get that?”

“Huh?” You’re so grateful he can’t see your face right now. “Sorry, uh, can we do that one more time?”

Instead of making fun of you or complaining, he simply guides you through the motion again, going slow to ensure you understand every step, before repeating it again closer to a normal speed. “Did you get it?”

“I…think so. Maybe.”

He chuckles, and you can feel the rumble of his chest against your back. “Alright. Try it yourself, now.”

You do, and for once, the sword flies through the air with ease, and makes a sizable slash in the dummy. You stare for a moment, dumbfounded, before you drop the sword and whirl around to face him. “I did it!” You can’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around him.

“Wha–Hey! Don’t drop your sword!” Despite his scolding tone of voice, his arms are gentle as they wrap around you, lifting you up slightly. “...But that was good.”

Is that a hint of red at the tips of his ears?

No, of course not. It couldn’t be.

He sets you down, picking up the sword and placing it back in your hand. “Now do it again. If you can do something as simple as that, you can probably keep up the facade long enough to find your treasure.”

You do the motion ten, twenty, then thirty more times while Zoro watches on with satisfaction. “You know, I could probably make a real swordsman out of you if we had the time.”

You laugh. “Maybe you could. I don’t have anywhere to be after this. Does your ship have room for one more?”

You say it as a joke, but you can see on his face that for a moment, he genuinely considers the possibility. “It’s a big ship. You’d have to get approval from my Captain, though.”

“Do you think I could?”

“He’d love you.” He smiles fondly. “You’re just as reckless as he is. And you’d get along with everyone else, too. Nami would appreciate having someone else who knows the value of a Berry around. Usopp would love how gullible you are. And that cook…” He makes a quiet noise of disgust. “Anyway, you’d fit right in.”

You can see the affection radiating off of him as he talks about his friends. You can’t help but smile back at him. “They sound nice.”

“They have their moments.”

You sheathe your sword, rolling out your shoulders and neck. “Well, I think I only have a bit to go before I get the treasure. I’m so close I can taste it. I bet I can find it by tonight.”

“Here’s hoping. As you are now, you’d still get caught the moment you got put into a real battle. We have to find it quickly.”

You freeze, your heart pounding a little faster. “...We?”

“Yeah?” He looks at you like it’s obvious.

“You’re coming with me?”

“You thought I wouldn’t?”

“I don’t know! You never said you were going to!”

“I thought it was obvious. We’re going to go in, grab the treasure, and run like hell.”

You don’t like the way he simplifies it, but you have to admit that’s basically your entire plan. “And then I take you back to your ship?”

“It’d be hard for you to join if you didn’t.”

You can’t hide your shock. “You were serious?”

“Were you not?”

“I mean–I’d like to, but–”

“If you want to, then there’s no but. It’s settled.” He says it so easily. You wonder where he gets the confidence to speak things into existence like that, to say things as though they’re sure to happen simply because he wills it. His next words are spoken as an afterthought, as though they left his mouth before he even realized they were coming. “That’s good. I didn’t really want to let you go.”

“Huh?” Your face is definitely red now.

“Huh?” His face might be redder than yours.

“Did you–”

“No, definitely not.”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“Doesn’t matter.” He sharply turns around. “We have a treasure to go steal.”

Well, if he isn’t going to be brave about this, you suppose you’ll have to. You wouldn’t survive the tension-filled boat ride over otherwise. “Oh, the brave swordsman is running away?”

You see his shoulders tense, and you know you got him. “I am not running away.”

“Then why aren’t you looking at me, Zoro?” You keep your voice teasing and sickly sweet.

He slowly turns, desperately avoiding your eyes.

“You still aren’t loo–”

Before you can finish your taunt, chapped lips are pressed against yours. It’s jarring and all too brief, gone before you even realize it was there. By the time you can blink, he’s backed away again, stalking off with a purpose. “Come on. We’re losing daylight.”

“That’s the wrong way.”

He turns back around without a word, rushing past you. You can’t help the goofy little grin that makes its way onto your lips. You won’t tell him, not now, but you didn’t really want to let him go quite yet either.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay

[hedwig221b]

Hi could u pls suggest a pic where derek or Stiles gets injured and the other takes care of them?

Ah, yes, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, the top tier duo...

Holy Injuries, Batman! by LadyDrace

Stiles gets hurt. Badly. Getting better turns out to be more of a process than anyone expected, and there are a few surprises along the way.

Leave It All Behind by asarcasticwitch

A coil of panic tightens in his chest as, after just three short rings, Derek’s voice—raspy as if barely awake—echoes through the speaker. “Do you know what time it is?” he grumbles, and at any other time, Stiles would’ve made a joke or retorted with something so sarcastic it would’ve undoubtedly earned him a huff in return. But right now, he can’t think of anything to say.

Our Days Are Numbered by tylerfucklin

They didn't know, not until it was too late. The damage was done; the scars and broken bones made, and the nightmares endless. No amount of corrective surgeries and physical therapy would take away what had happened to Stiles that day.

Beltane by DevilDoll

"Watching Stiles heal someone has always been a little uncomfortable for Derek, like he's seeing something intimate and private that shouldn't have an audience. That's nothing compared to how it feels." This is an AU in which Stiles has magical healing powers.

The Bite by LeeHan

The first time Stiles was offered the bite, he said no, but the universe only gave him the courtesy of asking so many times. When the inevitability of the bite catches up with him, Stiles has to face his new nature. Luckily, he has Derek by his side every step of the way.

Surrounded and up against a wall, I’ll shred ‘em all (and go with you) by Gorgeousgreymatter

Stiles hates hospitals. He’s always hated hospitals. Well, not always (who likes them, anyway?), but since her. Since before -- and now just the thought of them makes him want to retch, gives him that crawling-out-his-skin feeling that makes him want to peel it all off with his fingernails. Which he should really stop biting, he muses, wincing as he tears a hangnail off with a rabid flash of teeth.

Although, technically this wasn’t exactly a hospital. Not for humans anyway. But whatever, Stiles thinks, veterinary hospitals still counted. At least as long as Derek was in that back room screaming like he’s dying, because maybe he is.

This is Ridiculous by zosofi

There's a unicorn in Beacon Hills. A fricken' unicorn. In fricken' Beacon Hills, California. And it turns out that unicorns aren't drawn towards virgins in a happy-go-lucky let-me-lay-my-not-at-all-metaphorical-horn-in-your-lap way. No. They kill them. And guess who's the only virgin idiotic enough to get sucked into the Beacon Hills supernatural scene? Stiles, that's who.

I will stand with you by Taigrin

John Stilinski comes home to find Stiles and Derek passed out on the couch pretty much after telling his son to stay away from the werewolf.

Or the one with family Stilinski feels mixed up with angst and a hurt alfa.

Not Your Disney Romance by Wrennefer (Wrenegadeone)

After a long-forgotten agreement of an arranged marriage between Derek and the daughter of another pack's alpha resurfaces, Stiles takes it upon himself to become the most amazing fake fiancé that a clueless, desperate alpha werewolf could wish for.

Other fic recs: pack mom!Stiles | angsty fics | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | possessive Derek | smut | mafia | magical!Stiles | Stiles gets kicked out of the pack | BAMF!Stiles | omegaverse | witch!Stiles | creature!Stiles | bad friend Scott

[xoxosimp]

Right Person, Wrong Time

POV: You break playboy!Bucky’s heart 

Pairing: Bi!Bucky Barnes x Bestfriend!Reader

Part two: Perfect Timing

Warnings: angst, not beta’d, mediocre writing

A/N: This is heavily inspired by this sound on tik tok and one of my favorite scenes in a Disney channel show I used to watch LOL.

~~~~

If there is something about life, you like things to be simple. 

You flourished when you had a consistent and simple routine. Where others feel bored with things being the same everyday, mundaneness gives you a certain type of peace you never wanted to give up.

Bucky Barnes was a part of your routine. Every day after work, you and Bucky would run at the park. Sometimes it was one mile, other days it was five. 

Your workout routine with Bucky was never stale. Warm up, run, (Bucky insists that he always runs behind you for whatever protective reason he has. And looking at your ass is a great motivator, not that you know the latter). Then you would have dinner together, either one of you would cook or you would go out to eat. 

The sound of you and Bucky’s steps echoed against the pavement. Sweat clouded your vision and your lungs were begging for a respite but you were halfway to your checkpoint point. You picked up the pace, challenging him to keep up from behind. 

Bucky caught up to you and gestured to your foot, “ Your shoe is untied, angel,” he panted out.

You furrowed your eyebrows and glanced at your feet, breaking your stride. “ Well, I guess we can take a break now,” Bucky said as he came to a stop.

You smiled, “ You freaking liar!”

Bucky holds up his hands as if he was innocent. “ Don’t hate me just because you stopped, beautiful.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned against the rails of a bridge you so conveniently stopped at.

“ What do you wanna do for dinner?”, you asked Bucky, wiping the sweat from your forehead.

“Anything you want, I want, angel.”

You asked him everytime and every time he gave the same response.  He always wants what you want. “ Then let’s get Peruvian food, I could kill for lomo right now.” 

Bucky chuckled to himself, like he had something to say. “ Do you not want lomo, Buck?”

“ That’s fine, angel, just..” he trailed off. “ At least this dinner won’t have a side of tension.”

Bucky alluded to a dinner you had with your other friend Steve Rogers, and his significant other, Lililian. Steve isn't the one to argue in public, but his girlfriend kept picking fights. You and Bucky would attempt to dissolve the tense atmosphere, but it always seemed to thicken again.

“ Yeah, I couldn't imagine going through all the drama they’re going through. Steve looked like he wanted to explode,” you recalled.

He nodded his head. “ I think Steve needs someone less…in your face, you know?”

“Elaborate.”

“ Steve has a … strong personality, angel. He needs someone to soothe rather than excite.”

“So what, he needs someone to tame his inner alpha?,” you quipped. 

Bucky chuckled and looked at you. After a pause, he said, " You know, we wouldn't be like that.” 

You raisd an eyebrow, standing up straight, “ Like what?”

“ Complicated. If we were together, it would just be me and you, plus together.”

Your stomach fluttered. The notion of dating Bucky wasn't completely foreign to you. Bucky was an attractive person, inside and out. It was something about the way he looks at someone, the way he looked at you, that you knew you could trust him with the darkest parts of yourself. His huge fucking arms were always open if you needed a hug, and his beautiful blue eyes were always on you.

But if Bucky Barnes was anything, he was a player. He knew how to play a woman ( or man) like a finely tuned instrument, and make them melt into his hands. 

Bucky Barnes didn’t date. Bucky Barnes didn’t settle down. He thrived in spontaneity. 

You shook your head, “ We’re friends, Jamie.”

“ But I want more. I want more of you, angel. You’re the first person on my mind when I wake up, and the last thing before I go to bed. I can’t go a day without you. Would it really be that much of a difference if we were together?”

He spoke with so much conviction that you almost trusted him.

“ Bucky , ever since I met you, you’ve always been a player,” you explained. “ We have the perfect relationship and I don't wanna lose you just because you wanna try something new.”

You could have slapped him and Bucky still wouldn't have looked so shocked. His expression makes your heart drop into your stomach. 

“ What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he countered.

“ You get bored easily,” you crossed your arms. “ If we started dating you would get bored of me, then we would break up and our relationship would never be the same.”

“ We’re friends, Bucky,” you reiterated. “ You can have as many boyfriends and girlfriends you want, and we can still be best friends.”

Usually you could tell what mood Bucky was in. He had a “ I’m Hangry” glare and a “ I’m tired of this bullshit “ glare. You couldn't make out what he was feeling.

“ I don't feel like Peruvian food today,” he uttered “ Let me walk you to your car.”

“Are we good, Jamie?” 

“ We’re good, (Y/N).

He didn't call you angel, or beautiful, or any of the other pet names he would call you. Bucky didn't give you a kiss on the cheek and tell you to drive safe once you got in your car. The feeling of hurting him weighed heavy on your chest, but the relief of speaking your truth was liberating. 

Maybe you made a mistake, telling Bucky you didn't trust him with your heart.

No, it’s for the better. 

[spenglernot]

STORIES TELLING: NED LOWE AND THE DEATH OF POOR REPRESENTATION IN OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH

In history, Ned Lowe was one of the most sadistic and violent pirates in the early 18th century, so he’s an obvious choice for a villain for season 2, episode 6 – Calypso’s Birthday.  What is interesting is what the OFMD writers chose to do with him.

Lowe announces himself to the crew of the Revenge with great fanfare (cannon ball attack) and gets right to the point.

Ed is thoroughly unimpressed.

Cut to Ed and Stede tied up while Ned attempts to set the mood so he can monologue about why he wants to kill Ed.

Ed knows what’s coming. He is going to suffer but he still can’t be arsed to meet Ned with anything but vaguely bored dismissiveness (and Stede is happy to play along).

Up on the deck, Ned prepares the crew for his big, dramatic moment of symphonic torture.

Note that the Revenge crew is tied down, braced by vices and generally unable to protect themselves from imminent torture and possible death, but their spirits are up. They don’t seem terribly fussed.

Then Stede uses his people positive management style to happily orchestrate a worker uprising in Ned’s crew.

Ned’s crew responds instantly; severing their allegiance to Lowe and telling him off.

The crew sails away and talks profit sharing while Ned dully threatens to hunt them down.

Ned is now a prisoner of the Revenge crew and seems entirely disinterested in his own survival.

And Ned sinks to the depths, without struggling at all.

There is a lot going on in this episode: pay and labor equity direct action, gay love engagement bliss, kink humor, Stede being a hero and saving his crew by playing to his strengths, then having to decide whether to kill in cold blood and feel the consequences of that choice. Ed having one more reason to be done with piracy (while being so impressed with and fond of Stede), and then watching his man make a fraught choice and having to deal with the fallout from that. (And, damn, I haven’t even mentioned the passionate sex bit.) Anyway, back to the point.

Now for the the meta part

The Ned Lowe sequences are perfectly in keeping with OFMD’s signature blend of madcap violence, humor, and big emotional gut punches. But something about Ned Lowe just strikes me as off for this show.

Ned is seriously threatening the crews’ lives, so why don’t they take him seriously?

Why does Ned have such a boring, throwaway backstory?

Why is Ned so nonchalant about his own death; like it’s a foregone conclusion?

Why does Ned have a silver violin and silver spurs on his slip-on dress shoes?

Why is Ned sartorially monochromatic?

And then I realized who Ned reminds me of.

This guy,

Earnst Stavro Blofeld in the James Bond film Diamonds are Forever (1971)

And this guy,

Scar in Disney's The Lion King (1994).

And this guy,

Xerxes, 300 (2006).

And it sure seems like Ned Lowe isn’t just an episodic villain. He is an archetype of the one-dimensional, stereotypical queer-coded villain that has been endemic in film and television throughout history. The OFMD writers have a lot to say about what to do with this kind of character:

Don’t respect him.

Feel free to openly mock him.

Don’t let him take your joy, even though he will hurt you.

He won’t disappear on his own. You have to throw something at him (take action) to make him go away.

Once he’s in the water, he’s content to drown. He’s not into what he’s doing any more than you are.

Oh and, just to be clear,

The LGBTQIA+ community has a very long history of turning shit media into better stories. So, hey, big media, prepare to have your crap characters wrecked (improved).

Now, back to our transformative pirate show with rich, complex queer characters and a multi-layered plot that surprises me every week and makes me feel big feelings - most of all, joy.

Final thought: I do wonder if Ned Lowe is monochromatically silver as a tribute to/poke at, Hollywood and the silver screen.

This meta was written before OFMD season 2 has fully aired. No idea what’s going to happen in the finale (and I’ve generally fled social media to avoid spoilers). I’ll be back, looking at everyone’s fascinating posts after episode 8 airs.

[artyandink]

she

• • • ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ • • •

SUMMARY: YOU STAYED AWAKE MOST NIGHTS. YOU JUST MISSED THE SIMPLE TIMES, YOU’D LOST EVERYTHING AND NOW YOUR ONLY LIFE WAS HUNTING. IT WAS ENDLESS AND YOU COULDN’T BRING YOURSELF TO SLOW DOWN— MAYBE THERE WAS NO LIGHT FOR YOU.

TW: TALK OF DEATH, GRIEF, BOBBY AS A FATHER FIGURE, LONELINESS, DENIAL, ANGER

NOW PLAYING:

• BEFORE YOU GO BY LEWIS CAPALDI

• BLAME’S ON ME BY ALEXANDER STEWART

• GASOLINE BY HALSEY

FULL ALBUM

• • • ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ • • •

YOU COULDN’T STOP hunting, and you couldn’t stop hurting. You’d been responsible for the most monster kills over the state in the past… four years, clearing jobs if you found them before anyone else could. Of course, that’s never the healthiest thing in the world. Never is. And yes, of course, you ignored that too.

“Yes, Bobby, I cleared the pack.” You sighed, taking a sip of coffee— yeah, pretty unhealthy, considering how it’s eleven o’clock at night, but hey, at least Bobby can’t say shit, he’s awake too. “I’m fine.”

“Says the girl who’s most likely on her fifth cup of coffee.” Bobby’s voice was so clearly snappy that you could see the disappointment, and no, you weren’t on your— ok, now checking it, you were on your seventh. Maybe he had a point.

But you gave a scoff, rubbing your eyes— maybe trying to shake off memories, the blood, the screams and your loud sobs, but they just wouldn’t go. They were there every moment you closed your eyes. “No. I’m on my seventh.”

“Ain’t a braggin’ point, girl.” You heard him snap, and your grip on the phone tightened. “Hell, the life you’re livin’ ain’t nobody’s life. As soon as you’re off one hunt, you’re on another, it’s shit.”

“Well, my life’s pretty shit right now.” You retorted, a slight edge to your voice that was delaying the guilt that came with even snapping at a guy who tried his damn hardest. “Think that grants me a pass.”

“It grants no one a pass to kill ‘emself slowly.” Ugh, the cycle never stopped. You’d finish a case, come home (to a motel room) exhausted, cry, have a beer, watch shitty TV, cry some more, make dinner, some coffee, repeat that last step about five to seven times, get told off by Bobby until it was one am and you were still tired after all that. Then you’d have a good cry. “Just think about it. Taking care’a yourself.”

“I will.” You muttered, sighing, then cut the call, letting your hand run down the length of your face. Honestly, you did feel shitty twenty four seven, but your only way of coping was to kill every piece of shit that came your way and self destruct. You just couldn’t face something that was your fault.

You felt empty. And it felt like shit.

• • • ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ • • •

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[showtoonzfan]

People are allowed to like Val if they want (as long as they don’t condone his actions) but man….I really don’t get the appeal of him when people call him a “fun villain to watch”, like the fucking joker or old Disney villains. He’s just not funny to me, nor is he entertaining. When he’s not making cringy sex jokes that a discord roleplayer would write, he’s characterized as a dumb piss baby who throws temper tantrums, and it’s not portrayed as a bad thing, more of a man child scenario where you’re supposed to laugh at him, and I just can’t help but tilt my head at this disgusting rapist character who the writers want you to find incompetent and stupid. Viv doesn’t even like the idea of people calling him a mastermind manipulator, and that rubs me off the wrong way SO hard because it makes you wonder why Angel Dust or anyone else who works for him hasn’t stood up to him or killed him yet if he’s supposed to be this dense.

Val isn’t even an intimidating person, it’s just the actions he commits that are. He rapes people and abuses/kills his workers. Fans like to treat him as if he’s “that sick villain character you love to hate”- but there’s nothing going on for him outside of that really, so it’s so funny when people compare him to villains the Joker like my god they’re incredibly delusional.

[sapphiresaphics]

I think what bothers me the most about a lot of the arcane criticism is how anti-creative it ends up being. Even well meaning criticisms such as “it needed another season” or “we needed one more episode for things to cook properly” come across to me as really defeatist.

Arcane is one of the most ambitious animated projects in recent memory. It’s one of the most expensive animated TV shows ever produced. It took over 6 years just to get a first season into production. It features a massive amount of talent from all over the industry from voice actors, to animators, to music producers and writers. Its narrative is challenging and complex but easily digestible and gorgeous to watch. There are tons of hidden details, a world that is fleshed out to an absurd degree, and fan service for longtime gamers. Its characters are morally grey and complicated, and the debates around said characters continues long after the show ended.

In this day and age of recycled copy/pasted mediocre products shoved down our throats to say Arcane was ambitious is an understatement. By all accounts… this should have FAILED.

But it didn’t. It’s a MASTERCLASS of filmmaking and storytelling. Nearly every episode is highly rated and ranked. It’s one of the highest received and watched shows on Netflix.

So when I see people say “it didn’t quite stick to landing” or say “it tried to do too much,” I just feel… exhausted.

What MORE do you people want? How much more perfection can they force into a product like this? If the creatives tried THIS HARD and spent THAT MUCH to make a product THIS BELOVED… and you’re STILL not satisfied… what are we even doing anymore? And by extension… what’s that mentality say to all of us smaller independent creators who just want to make stuff?

Some people are spurned by criticism to strive to do better. But in my experience that is a rare breed and more often than not when you give something your all and are received with disappointment you end up internalizing that disappointment and not doing the thing anymore.

Is it not better that the creatives tried and were ambitious and that their ambitions didn’t quite make it all the way but they still made a quality product that is more than just a sum of its parts, than if they just didn’t bother trying at all? Isn’t it better that we try and come up short than to never try? Isn’t it better they still managed to make a successful show that millions of people love, than to make a dumpster fire that alienated people and killed the franchise?

I’m not saying you can’t criticize the show. Every work of media deserves some level of criticism. But I just feel like the HEIGHTS that this show reaches for are SO HIGH that it almost feels greedy and entitled to try and bring it down to the levels of the SLOP we get from Disney or Marvel or DC every few years.

When is see intense hatred and criticism lobbied at Arcane I just feel like “why bother trying?” Why bother trying to do anything innovate or wild or creative and ambitious if it’s going to be met with such unrelenting hatred and stupidity. Why should I subject myself to that level of scrutiny and rejection?

If arcane is a master class made by some of the most talented people on the planet and it’s STILL not good enough… then what hope do I have?

Why should I even try?

[winwintea]

dreamies as your disney world boyfriend

pairing ▸ boyfriend!dreamies x reader author's note ▸ i am working on the SERIES I PROMISE GUYS... it's just quite long... oops. i needed to channel my inner disney for inspiration for this sorry. the prompt seemed to make more sense in my head so i guess it's just, 'dreamies at disney' now lol. ALSO SOME DISNEY TERMINOLOGY in there i apologize. should make sense but if it's confusing ask me lmfaooo

mark lee

photographer boyfriend obviously 

doesn’t even complain about how many photos you want to take

is actually dying inside but hides it away with dad jokes to cope with the pain

“it’s not even noon yet and dis-knees are killing me bro” 

will only complain about the heat 

“It’s like we’re on the surface on the sun dude… like satan’s armpit. that’s crazzzzyy.”

you couldn’t help but laugh

but then he just KEPT GOING

“it’s like we’re in the inside of a mouth… there are things sticking to things that-” 

and you cut him off right there.

can’t help the fact that bro is a D1 yapper.

will not wear mickey ears though no matter how much you beg him to :(  

favorite ride: slinky dog dash

least favorite ride: dumbo

huang renjun

the boyfriend that actually disney bounds with you

so y’all are disney bounding as nick wilde and judy hopps from zootopia (renjun’s idea)

chenle took him to shanghai disney once, so he’s a big fan of duffy and friends

oh how disappointed he was when he realized that the mascots don’t exist in WDW

“preferred parking? i would prefer parking to be free, thank you very much.” 

mood is very sour upon entering

“i know you’re cold but i did tell you to bring a jacket.” rude.

however once you two start collecting your first character signature he’s locked in

somehow more excited to meet the characters than the kids are? (ur 24. reality check!)

he gets more into it as the day goes on

YOU BET HE’S WEARING THE MICKEY EARS. 

although he already had fox ears on to begin with anyways

favorite ride: mickey & minnie’s runaway railway

least favorite ride: seven dwarfs mine train (it was too short)

lee jeno

foodie boyfriend 

wants a turkey leg like really badly 

“that guy has a turkey leg… sir- um sir- where did you get that turkey leg”

you have to bribe this man with food.

which honestly is okay by you because you just wanna take photos of the food.

"yknow with this ride being 50 years old, you'd think they could've made the boats a little bigger. have to man spread now" 

whatever you’re thinking of, that’s literally not what he meant. 

he’s an innocent lil guy. (seriously, it just came out wrong.)

holds ur hand on all rides. 

let’s you grab onto his muscles arms while you are nervous on the thrill rides

no mickey ears though. (it’s the bow that always throws them off)

favorite ride: rise of the resistance 

least favorite ride: teacups

lee haechan

out of pocket boyfriend who will not stfu

“bambi’s the only movie i really couldn’t watch… i could not be as strong as bambi” 

after you give him the, “wtf” look he just continues. on.

“cause if my mom died well… there goes my friend group.”

will randomly start singing disney songs in the middle of waiting for a ride. 

in those show/ride/attractions he’s the only one clapping and screaming. 

especially true for the beauty and the beast sing-a-long attraction, cause yknow he’s gonna scream his lungs out.

yeah he’ll wear mickey ears, but you bought him a goofy hat instead. It was more fitting.

“can’t believe disney made a character after me… should i sue?”

also complains a lot. way too much.

“EPCOT? more like every person comes out tired.”

favorite ride: pirates of the caribbean (he kept making a booty joke over and over again)

least favorite ride: toy story midway mania (bc he lost)

na jaemin

hardcore boyfriend photographer (pt 2) + ‘mom’ boyfriend

man knows all your best angles and where to take photos

“picture, picture over here… yes yes right… in front of the castle angel. oh that’s so pretty… in… in… down… up… okay! smile!”

you two spend like half the day taking photos, jaemin needs to show off his gf ofc.

cares for you the whole entire day, makes sure you drink enough water

aggressively refills your waterbottles every second he gets. 

“when it doubt, chug it out! (cue jaemin chugging his own bottle)

he unfortunately will not wear mickey ears. (jaemin i believed in you.)

he’s not the one being taken photos of, so no mickey ears for him.

“princess i don’t wanna hear it. the humidity is good for you. this is like nature’s pore declogging.”

favorite ride: frozen ever after

least favorite ride: none (bc he did everything with u <3)

zhong chenle

in between buying you everything and calling everything too expensive boyfriend

HOW THE FUCK DID HE GET A MEMBERSHIP WITH CLUB 33.

this man pulls you into that sus green building on main street, and your jaw drops.

club 33, is an exclusive, membership only restaurant at disney. it’s like an elite society filled with rich upper class, but at disney. (never been inside not sure how to describe it but oh boy is membership expensive.) the waitlist got so long in 2007, they closed it for 5 years. look it up on wikipedia disney lore goes hard

“i just asked a couple of friends, and they recommended me this place.” boy.

you’re panicking because you’re severely underdressed. (you’re in a jessie costume.)

he reassures you, since you’re at disney, and being dressed like this is normal.

once u have one of the most expensive meals of ur life, chenle drags u to every single thrill ride.

he also buys you a balloon and a bubble wand <3

but for some reason when you arrive at the gift shop he realizes he’s spent a lot.

“okay enough gift shop. look away from the gift shop. this vacation already has us in poverty.”

AND BRO ACTS LIKE THIS THE WHOLE TRIP IM NOT KIDDING.

he’ll buy you a nice meal at one of the restaurants and then…

“we’re not getting churros they’re 5 dollars.”

no mickey ears either why do you even ask

“next time i’ll take u to shanghai, it’s better okay?”

favorite ride: tower of terror

least favorite ride: it’s a small world after all

park jisung

anti-disney everything boyfriend

gets frustrated at everything. cannot read the map.

when he goes on small world…

he severely questions his mental sanity. like actually guys i think he needs help.

“this ride is for kids.” 

the ride in question: the barnstormer! a 40 second kiddie roller coaster that has top speeds of up to 25mph!

literally jisung’s 13 reason. 

he was screaming his little heart out poor baby.

“I’m not wearing those. Stop.” you do not stop. “Take these off of me right now.”

he wears the ears for half of the day though so a win is a win.

“we’re going to the other park? we’re not going home? there’s 3 more??????”

favorite ride: none

least favorite ride: all

[gremlinmodetweeker]

A Very Bad Movie Night

I'm sorry, but movie nights with our favourite Austrian giant are either nice and cuddly or downright terrifying, depending on who picks the movie.

It's not that his movies are bad, he's just into really extreme horror and always searching for the scariest movies he can. He's not just pure 'blood, guts, gore' either because he's really into psychological thrillers and cosmic horror. He just loves to get his heart beating in his chest. He loves the scariest he can get, and he's especially into found footage or atmospheric horror. Don't get me wrong, he's down for a good slasher or a gory film like Saw, but if he can get a movie like Blair Witch Project or As Above So Below? He's very happy.

He has seen all the Guinea Pig movies. He won't force you through them (thank God for that), but you gotta know that sometimes this guy watches some fucked up shit.

He's a man built for war. He'll be cute and give you back massages and make pastries for Disney movie nights, but just remember that this guy has seen the worst of humanity, and it shows.

Anyways, I know it's a dumb little fic, but I wrote a little example of you trying to get 'The Big Boy' tm to try and open up about his favourite movies.

TWs: Gore (not described in detail, but talked about) and scary movies

Story below the cut

A Very Bad Movie Night

The tv remote on the coffee table acted as an effective wall between you and König.

On one side, you sat with a bowl of popcorn and a blanket. On the other, König sat armed with a bag of chips and a bottle of pop. Between you, the tv remote sat, awaiting its ultimate fate.

“We watched your movie yesterday. It is my turn,” König leaned his elbows on his knees.

“You always want to watch the same movies,” you pointed out, “we’ve watched Blade Runner three times this month.”

“Was? Nein!” König snapped, “we only watch the same movies because you can’t handle my favorite movies!”

“Are you seriously trying to pull that card on me?” you scoffed.

“I’m not ‘pulling a card’, I’m telling the truth,” König sniffed.

You rolled your eyes. Every week, you had this argument, like clockwork. It was a never ending struggle between the two of you. König insisted you couldn’t handle his movies, you told him you would, he would poo-poo your suggestions, and then you’d be stuck rewatching some old movie he approved. That ended tonight. Tonight, you would pull on your big kid pants and show him what’s what.

“You know what, try me,” you sneered.

König looked at you as though you were an angry baby rabbit.

“I can handle it!” you insisted defiantly, “I can!”

“You are not very…” König tilted his head to the side, “brave.”

“I’m not what!?” you snapped.

König winced, then carefully took your hands in his, “You are not well equipped to handle horror.”

You looked at him for a good long moment. After a hearty pause, you broke up laughing.

“You’re saying I can’t handle horror?” you snickered, “that’s what you’re worried about here?”

“I am not worried,” König told you flatly, “I know.”

“But you don’t!” you complained, “you don’t know at all! I’m great with horror! It’s like, my favorite genre!”

Okay, the last part was a lie, but he didn’t have to know that.

“Then why do you always want to watch your Disney princess movies with me?” König glared at you like a displeased parent.

“Because they’re cute and I like being cute with you?” you told him like it couldn’t be more obvious. You thought it was, but he seemed to disagree.

“If you want cute, we can watch Unicorn Wars or something,” König offered.

“Isn’t that the one where teddy bears kill unicorns in war?” you asked carefully.

“Ja! That’s the one!” König cheered.

You grimaced and König rolled his cold blue eyes.

“See? See that right there. That’s why we don’t watch fun movies,” König threw his hands up in dismay.

“What no! We watch fun movies!” you argued, “didn’t you like Howl’s Moving Castle?”

König was about to snap back before hesitating. With a tired sigh, he slumped in his seat, “Yes, that was good, but that silly ice woman movie? I did not like that.”

“Frozen?”

“Ja.”

“You’re just dumb.”

Your eyes widened as König slowly raised his head to lock eyes with you. Even behind his black sniper’s hood, you could see the gears clicking together in his head as he stared you down.

“I’m dumb?” König chuckled darkly.

“Not dumb, just…” you gestured with your hands, “not that educated?”

König nodded, gesturing for you to keep going.

“I mean it’s not that you’re uneducated, you’re just not that knowledgeable? Wait wait wait hold on, stay with me for this one, I have a point I promise-No I really do don’t look at me like that!”

König raised a single bushy blond eyebrow.

“Listen to me!” you clapped with your words, “I’m just saying you’re not up to date with the times!”

König crossed his arms over his broad chest and leaned back into the pleather sofa.

“So you’re calling me old.”

“I’m not calling you old, I’m calling you out of touch!” you spat before immediately reconsidering your sentence.

König’s eyebrows raised as he let your words sink into the living room.

“No don’t look at me like that!” you spat as you desperately looked for a way out, “I’m… You know what? I’m standing by what I said. I’m right. You’re out of touch. You’re not even forty and you act like you’re ninety. You’re a grouchy old man.”

König nodded along as you spoke, amusement creasing in the corners of his eyes.

“Your back cracks when you touch your toes,” you could feel yourself digging your hole with a drilling rig, “and you keep saying you’re ‘too old for all this’ when you hear about your nephews’ talking about memes on Tiktok.”

“Tiktok is a mistake,” König grumbled under his breath.

“It’s a mistake, yeah, but you’re not making this any better for yourself,” you argued.

“I am only thirty-five,” König pointed out.

“Still getting up there,” you countered.

“So you think I’m old and out of touch, ja?” König laughs coldly, “and that’s why I don’t like your sweet pretty princess movies?”

“I think that’s a pretty significant factor, yeah,” you retorted.

“That is not why I dislike those movies.”

You snorted.

“Oh yeah?” you leaned in on your knees, “then what’s really stopping you from hopping on the Disney train?”

König sighed and rolled his eyes, “It’s not that I don’t like your Disney movies, it’s just that I prefer something… Grittier.”

“Like what?” you asked, intrigued.

“Like…” König closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded and looked at you with a menacing glare, “how about we watch a movie?”

-------

You buried your face further into König’s chest. The screams were too much for you to bear. This was König’s favorite kind of movie? What kind of man did you marry?

“This is a funny part,” König laughs, “she wakes up and her fiance’s head is sewn into her stomach.”

“You think that’s-” you spluttered before giving up, “this is awful.”

“This is fun!” König teased you light-heartedly as the woman screamed bloody murder.

“This is fucked up,” you grumbled and dug further into his side.

He laughed heartily at your response. Rubbing your side lovingly, he asked (over the screaming), “This is all fake! It’s not real!”

You groaned. You didn’t know if you were more frightened by the movie your boyfriend put on or the fact that this was the movie he put on after telling you ‘it’s one of the easier ones to get through’. On one hand, it was a fantastic true crime mockumentary, on the other, you were going to have nightmares about this for weeks.

König hadn’t pulled any punches, or so you thought. You’d realized pretty quickly that if this was what König considered ‘light’, then you had a whole lot of work to getting used to this. As much as the movie horrified you, the story was terribly compelling.

“I just hope they catch the guy,” you were practically behind König at this point.

“Nein, this movie is not so nice,” König chuckled, “but I understand your feelings.”

“Wait they don’t even catch the guy?” you balked.

“Nein! Don’t you remember the beginning?” König scratched your hair affectionately.

“Wait…” you trail off as you realize he’s right. God, this movie just kept getting more and more fucked up.

“It’s alright,” König pressed a kiss against your shoulder, the closest thing he could reach with your head being burrowed into the sofa behind him.

You grumbled, but the movie played on.

By the end of the movie, you’d decided that König was now your favorite sociopath. You wouldn’t stop loving him, but how this was a good movie to him defied any and all logic. Well, the camera work was good, and the story was well-written, and the acting was impressive, and-NO. No this movie was awful. There was no way you were letting König win this time.

König crawled off the sofa, freeing you from the ending credits of The Poughkeepsie Tapes once and for all. When he turned and saw your terrified form, he barked another laugh before sauntering over and ruffling your hair.

“My little liebling,” König picked you up into his arms, “was that too much for you?”

You huffed and turned away with a pout, drawing a deep belly laugh out of your pet sociopa-sorry, boyfriend. He apologetically pressed a kiss against your cheek and carried you to the bedroom.

“Does my little liebling need me to keep the lamp on tonight?” he laughed as he tucked you into your side of the bed.

“No,” you scoffed petulantly.

“Then you should be fine when I..” he flipped off the lights, “do this.”

Immediately you scrambled to turn the lamp on the bedside table on.

König mercifully tugged on the light, casting a soft warm glow over the bedroom.

You glared at him, but thankfully he didn’t tease you any further.

Over the course of the night, you woke up several times, but thankfully, König held you close, lulling you back to sleep with his soft snoring and warm arms around you. When the morning came, you’d need to figure out some sort of revenge, but that was in the morning. You had all night to stew.

PS. The Poughkeepsie Tapes is a very intense gory movie about a man kidnapping and killing people, told through detectives documenting the data and uncovering the tapes the killer makes. It's very good, but also, very scary. I would watch at your own risk! Make sure to check the warnings on that movie on https://www.doesthedogdie.com/ which is a great website to check for trigger warnings in a movie you want to watch.

Story Masterlist

[bbygirlpascal]

Behave (Pedro Pascal x Fem Reader)

Hi friends! Sorry about the lack of posting last week, I was on vacay in Disney, it was a really great break from reality hehe. But I’m back now and will be posting weekly. Hope you like this one. <3

18+ ONLY. Please don’t interact with my posts if you are under 18.

Includes: unprotected sex, choking, demanding, teasing, solo play, public play.

Summary: This doesn’t really have a story line, mostly just smut. Reader wants to see if Pedro will behave in public as she teases him all night. ;)

Pedro couldn’t keep his hands off of you all day. You were both getting ready for an event you got invited to tonight. Going to events with coworkers of Pedro’s was always fun, but tonight you both just wanted to be in bed together, fucking each other senseless.

“Mama, you can’t wear that dress tonight,” Pedro says to you, looking you up and down hungrily.

You furrow your brows together, “But, this is the dress I’ve had picked out all week.”

Pedro walks up behind you and looks at you through the mirror you’re standing in front of. He wraps his lips around your earlobe giving it a soft bite and sending shiver down your body. “If you wear that, I don’t know if I’ll be able to behave myself.”

Your cheeks became flush and your pussy was aching from his words and his touch. You bit your lip, “Well, you’re just going to have to behave aren’t you? Cause I’m not changing,” you walk away from him and grab your shoes. As you bend over to put on your shoes, Pedro looks over to see you are not wearing any underwear.

You feel his finger run up your slit and let out a breath, gripping onto the bed post. “You’re killing me baby,” Pedro says to you, still toying with your pussy. “I want to taste you now.”

You turn around to face him and your met with his fingers in your mouth. You swirl and wrap your tongue around them, slowly bobbing your head up and down. You know what this does to Pedro and you were in the mood to be a tease all night, testing to see if he really will behave himself. Your eyes met his and he was watching your every move, fixating on your mouth around his fingers.

You let his fingers come out of your mouth with a pop, “You’re just going to have to wait, we need to go. Now.”

You grabbed his hand as he dragged his feet behind you and you both made it out the door into the car. The company that was hosting the event tonight had arranged a driver to pick you both up so you climbed your way into the back seat of the SUV. You both exchanged small talk with the driver and silence fell upon the vehicle, the sound of the radio softly filtering through to the back seat where you and Pedro sat.

The middle seat was empty between you and Pedro, you turned to face him, your back to the window. You brought your legs up resting them on the middle seat, exposing your pussy to him. You watched him shift uncomfortably, as you spread your legs a bit wider. Bringing your hand down to your pussy, you starting rubbing circles on your clit, and dipping them into your dripping sex. You could hear the wetness of your pussy as you continued to play with it, teasing Pedro to the point where you could tell he was about to burst through his pants.

He brought his hand up to your leg, rubbing your calf and nudging your leg open wider so he could get a better look. You quickly closed your legs, making sure he knows you can’t touch him right now. The car came to a stop as you realized you had arrived at the plaza.

You made your way into the event room, your arm looped around Pedro’s. He took a quick pit stop in the bathroom to readjust himself. You both once again made small talk with other guests at the event, Pedro’s hand resting on your lower back and lowering to caress your ass every now and then. Once you two had found your table you took a seat.

You placed your hand on Pedro’s thigh, eventually creeping your way up to his cock. It’s still semi-hard from your performance in the car and you smiled to yourself. You started to palm him through his pants, feeling his cock grow harder. Pedro let out a sigh and shifted in his seat.

He leaned over to whisper in your ear, “Don’t make me take you home and punish you,” he said with a clenched jaw. Just what you wanted.

You continued to tease him throughout the night and once you both had finally made it home, you closed the door and Pedro pinned you against it. His face inches from yours, as he wrapped his hand around your throat, placing his thumb against your lips.

“Did teasing me all night make you wet? Hmm?” he asked you as he slid his fingers into you. “You think it’s fun for me to be hard all night while you sit there with that pretty smile on your face as you rub my cock and play with your pussy?” he pumped his fingers in and out of you, making you moan and whimper as he curled them toward your g spot. You bit your lip as he fingered your pussy, hearing how wet you were for him made you even more aroused.

You wrapped your leg around him, but he moved it away. “No, now it’s my turn,” he said nipping at your jaw. He traveled open mouthed kiss all down your body, starting from your neck, to your collarbones, to your chest. He pulled down the top of your dress, exposing your tits and started sucking and flicking his tongue on your nipples. Placing soft kisses on them, making you shiver at his soft touch.

He eventually pulled your dress down to your ankles as he worked his way down your body, softly touching every inch of your body with his mouth. He lead you to the bedroom and laid you down on your back. He took off your shoes, kissing the tops of your feet all the way down your leg. He stopped at your inner thigh, teasing you by hovering his mouth over the sensitive skin, licking and sucking on your inner thigh.

Your hips squirmed, so desperate for friction on your pussy. “Mmm, not yet princess,” he said to you. He rose up and took of his shirt, unbuckled his pants and dropped them and his boxers to the floor. His cock was already hard and dripping with precum. You bit your lip, craving his cock inside of you.

“Please Pedro, I’m sorry,” you whimpered. He ran the tip of his cock onto your folds as you sharply inhaled at the friction you wanted so bad.

“Touch yourself,” Pedro demanded. You brought your fingers down to your clit, rubbing circles on it, bucking your hips towards his cock as he continued to tease you with it. “Good girl, you’re behaving now.”

He thrusted his cock into you completely, filling out your walls perfectly and making you cry out. He pulled out completely before diving back in, his cock stretching you out. The pleasure washed over you and he continued to thrust into your pussy. He bent down and connected his lips to yours, you both sloppily kissing each other, tongues squirming around each other, and your moans muffled into his mouth.

“Turn around baby,” he said breathlessly as you turned around for him, pushing your hips up into the air. Pedro spanked you harshly, the sting subsided quickly as he slapped you again. He entered his cock into you, he felt even bigger from behind. He wildly thrust into you, the sound of skin on skin filling your ears. His hands dug into your hips as he guided your on his cock.

You felt that familiar feeling in your pussy as his balls slapped against your clit.

“Baby, I’m gonna come,” you said to him.

“Come on my dick baby.”

He thrust into you harder and you felt your walls contract around his cock. Pushing your hips up even more to feel him deeper inside of you.

“Yes, just like that baby,” he said, still thrusting into you. He pulled out his cock and turned you around, you took his tip into your mouth, he used his hand to pump his shaft and you felt his load cover your tongue as you swallowed.

You got up onto your knees, facing Pedro as he kissed you all over making you fall back on the bed.

[mistystepmoonbeam]

Reborn into BG3: Part 17

You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.

Chapter 17: Gee, I sure hope nobody raises the Spectator from the dead, that wouldn't be great...unless...?

Word count: ~950

A/N: Another shorter chapter because I think the next one is gonna be much longer 😳

Your first thought is you hadn’t heard anything approach you. No woosh or vibration in the air when the Spectator moved, just as it didn’t make any noise now.

Neither you nor Wyll moved, but he tensed up beside you. Each of you waited for the Spectator to move, but it just floats there, eyes on you and maw agape.

“Please tell me that’s your work,” Wyll whispers.

You want to respond, shrug, murmur, anything but your body doesn’t obey. You’re tapped in its gaze, mind blank except for that little tingle in your head. Except it’s not in the back of your head now, it’s in your left temple, like a little bit of static is settled on your skin.

“Why isn’t it moving?” you whisper to Wyll.

“I think,” Wyll says slowly, “you’re controlling it.”

“I beg to differ.” You try to cut the cord, the connection you just barely feel to it but nothing happens. The creature still stares at you and you at it. Two large thumps are heard behind you and you catch the Spectator’s eyes flick to the two tieflings you know landed behind you. It soon looks back to you.

Wyll sticks his arm in front of you and slowly starts to push you back, ensuring he’s between you and the aberration.

“Minutus!” a voice calls.

The Spectator flinches and a purple light surrounds it. Wyll gives you another small push back but rather than attaching the creature shrinks. It gets smaller and smaller until it’s the size of a large rat, blinking up at you and flexing its jaws.

You and Wyll peer down at it, quickly joined by Tav and Karlach.

“It’s so cute,” Tav says. His eyes sparkle down at the thing he killed just last night.

You hate to admit it, but he’s right. Now that it isn’t the size of a small school bus it’s not quite as scary, and the fact that its eyes take up most of its head makes it look like a Disney animal companion.

“That should take care of that.” You all turn to find Gale approaching, Shadowheart at his side. He looks at you. “Perhaps we should start those lessons sooner rather than later.”

You nod. You can feel the Spectator watching you but now that it’s smaller it seems to look around more. Its eyes roll towards the tieflings, then to Gale as if knowing he was the one that cast the spell.

“I can’t cut the thread,” you say.

“Thread?” Tav asks.

“When I…raise something,” you explain, “it feels like a thread between them and me. But with this—“ you gesture to the Spectator, “—I can’t cut it like I did with the redcaps.”

“Perhaps it’s a familiar now,” Wyll suggests. He crouches down to poke at the Spectator and when it gives a small snap at him he pulls back and stands. “When I could summon creatures from the Hells I could feel where they were, I suppose you might consider it like a thread.”

You nod again, unable to do anything else.

“Congratulations,” Shadowheart says, “you now have a familiar the size of a large potato.”

She laughs at her own joke and you scratch your nose to hide a smile. It really is the size of a large potato. The Spectator floats towards your ankles and circles you, then rubs against your boot as a cat would.

“Aww,” Karlach says, “it’s kinda cute, the little ‘tator-tot.”

“Tator,” you mumble. The Spectator looks up at you.

“I think it likes the name,” Wyll tells you. It might be a joke, but you crouch down all the same.

“Can it talk?” you ask. Shovel could talk, as could all animals given the right spell or potion.

“Perhaps, given the proper training for you both,” Gale says.

You’re not sure if you want to hear what a Spectator has to say, but there is something endearing about the way it gazes up at you. You ask, “Can you understand me?”

The creature wavers over the ground, maybe saying it does.

“Do you want to be my familiar?”

The Spectator appears to startle at the question before hurrying to circle your ankles three times. You watch it go, as do the others until it settles in front of you and opens its jaws wide, releasing a yawning screech.

“Master!” it says. Not with its mouth, but you hear the words all the same in your head.

“I don’t think you need its permission,” Wyll tells you, “but it seems to be agreeable.”

“Let’s just hope the spell doesn’t wear off in the middle of the night,” Shadowheart adds.

Gale makes a huff of indignation. “It most certainly will not!”

“Even if it did, it’s a familiar now,” Tav says. He crouches before the Spectator, ready to poke it when it moves swiftly behind your legs. You turn and reach down, carefully taking it into your arms and holding it not unlike a baby. The eyes in its tentacles close and smooth back as it relaxes into your arms. It can’t weigh more than ten pounds as it settles, all eyes closing now.

“I think it may be best to stay at camp,” Gale says. “We can go over some of the basics of controlling the weave, among other things.”

“Yeah,” you relent. At least if Gale was teaching you magic Astarion wouldn’t be hanging around. The pale elf is probably more than willing to get out of camp and stab something, and you’d prefer to avoid the myconids, at least until you have your necromancy under control.

Taglist:

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