#it's not like they would have needed to write something new; the movie has different words for the beginning
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
~ Some drabbles of the LADS Men and Hair~
(Done as a writing warmup) ===LADS x Reader===
Xavier:
The least particular about his hair, he couldn't care less how it looks. The only time he even thinks about it is when its starts to get in his eyes. It only happens every few decades, as his hair grows at the same rate that he ages....which is slow.
Like most people he likes ot have his hair played with, but there's something about that just really soothes him. A few gentle pets and he's off to sleep.
Your hair might be different in this life, but he still loves it. He remembers how you used to do it back on Philos, and always gets a little flustered when you do it similarly now.
One of his favorite activities is the little beauty rituals you do, and he's always quietly eager for you to ask him to join him. Quiet evenings after a long day where you put your and his hair up and slather your faces in some new mud mask that smells like roses or lemon. The little bunny headband that shows up next to yours in the bathroom drawer is there inescplicably. And the new set of hair clips. And the under eyes masks.
During those nights, he'll comb through your hair. Taking his time to meticulously untangle each and ever knot, working so slowly you never even feel a tug. It's ritualistic. It's worship.
Zayne:
He's not too picky about his hair, but he likes to keep it groomed. A haircut every three months is mandatory, and he's been seeing the same barber since he was young. There's no fuss or frill to it, just practicality. He can't have crazyu hair products or unruly hair while in the OR.
While he's not vain, he does take some pride in his appearance, and messing up his hair can sometimes irk him a bit. Not enough to remark back, but enough to cup your fac in his hands and give your cheeks a soft pinch. A low warning about ruffling your hair too if need be. He'd never actually do it, but its fun to him to see the little pout on your face.
Your hair is a different story to him. Like other parts of you, its an integral perfect part fo you. The color of it sticking so firmling in his mind that a flash of it out the corner of his eye will have his heart skipping a beat. Constantly in search of you.
When you're together, he likes when its down. He understand that hunters need their hair up most of the time, so it's nice to see you in this way. Like a special treat, just for him.
He'll softly run his hands through it. Tender, tiny touches, never rustling more than a few strands at a time. Whether you're watching a movie, or sitting and working near each other, he'll find some way to fiddle with it. Tucking some out of your face. Adjusting an errant strand. Something.
Rafayel:
The most particular about his hair than the rest of the boys, but by no means fussy. Though compared to others he can be. His hair is used to water, and so can dry out easily. He struggled for a long time to maintain it-- inexplicable frizz and split ends arising enough to make him want to just cut it.
But if looked different...if he cut it, how would you recognize him? A bitter part of him hissed that you weren't here. That this life was one to live without you. But that hopeful part of him....that yearning ember that burned with the vow he made, held onto the hope too tightly.
So he kept his hair as close as he could to what it had been before. To the other times he'd been luck enough to meet you.
Once he's gotten a reputation as a painter and has a public persona, Thomas helps him. Sends him to a stylist who regularly douses him in deep conditioner and oil treatments.
It's a pain, but tolerable. Like most things.
When you come back to him, you take over his haircare. He insists. You set up in his oversized bathroom and help him figure out the deep conditioner. MAssaging his scalp and doting on him.
He's melting sugar in your palm, too spoiled to find anything to complain when you've got your fingers in his hair. It becomes a vice of his. A little ruffle or a pet and his breathing stutters.
He finds hair care for your hair too. A conditioner or clarifying treatment, insisting you take part in the ritual he's subjected to. Only he won't let you put it on yourself- even though you can.
He lingers. Running his fingers through your hair far longer than necessary.
After waiting for so long, any touch is too short. Every moment of contact is prolonged to its absolute length.
Sylus:
He's a man of particular tastes, but has a hard time trusting people. So he can't exactly go to a barber. Letting someone near his neck with scissors or worse a razor? No thanks.
He cuts his own hair, with the help of his evol and a few mirrors. It's taken him a while to figure it out, but it'll do.
He's the one who likes his hair being played with the lost, will go so far as to ask for it. At first its a taunt, a playful jab at you to see if you get flustered at the request.
You're surprised by how quickly he melts when you start touching him. Runing your fingers through his soft silver hair until he's practically purring.
Its a dangerous activity for him, because more often than not he ends with his head in your lap and on the brink of sleep. Unable to stop himself from sinking into the delicious feeling of your warm touch, and the reassuring hum from the linkage.
Since he's one to spoil you, anything you want for your hair is yours to have. A new haircare regimine? Ordered. New hair appliance? 1-Day Shipping. A personal stylist? Done.
#lads#lads sylus#love and deepspace#lads mc#lads rafayel#lads xavier#lads zayne#lads x reader#sylus x reader#sylus x mc#xavier x reader#xavier x mc#rafayel x reader#rafayel x mc#Zayne x reader#zayne x mc
206 notes
·
View notes
Text
Despite 2024, we still made it to 2025! Now let's celebrate that accomplishment!
Thank you to everyone who submitted to celebrate this fandom and the wonderful people in it! Fandom is about community, and we are nothing without it. I got the warm and fuzzies reading through all the lovely submissions so I hope you feel it too! Happy New Year!
🥶 nominate a person who made the year extra special
🌟 @cavillscurls nominated @kiwisbell 🌟
and my shoutout goes to the very special @kiwisbell. not only is she the most trusted beta, kindest friend, and brilliant writer, but most recently (and excitingly) the greatest collaborator and writing partner. meeting her—and meeting her in PERSON this summer—remain the highlights of my year. i’m not going to go into my dissertation on the importance and special nature of internet friendships, but just know that the light, creativity, and openness she brings to this fandom and to my life are things i will never take for granted. i am certain our next year will be better because she’s in it! I LOVE YOU.
(this is the attached photo and i HAD to include it 😭)
🌟 @bitchesuntitled nominated @beefrobeefcal 🌟
Hooooly shit. What can I say about Kiki that I haven’t already told her?! She is an amazing human being and I aspire to be like her. She is so kind even when others are not so nice. She’s one of the most creative people I know and I absolutely love when we get on a tangent in ALL CAPS ABOUT AN IDEA. She is so willing to help anyone and everyone- whether it’s a fic or a moodboard or you’re just feeling down in the dumps about something! I think she is one of the best people in this fandom and I am so glad to have her in my life ❤️ Also just a bit of a personal story to show the kind of person she is, when I was first getting sober I was worried about how I would handle July 4th because as an American it’s a very ‘Merica fuck yeah! Let’s drink! holiday and she checked in on me multiple times during the day and let me just ramble to her about different things so that I wouldn’t be tempted to drink 🥰❤️🥰❤️ So yeah, she’s a good egg.
🌟 @sixhours nominated @bumblepony 🌟
Hello m'dear, I have an entry for your end-of-year celebration. 🥶 I wanted to give a shout-out to @bumblepony who, in addition to being a talented and prolific fic writer, has commissioned sooooooo many artworks for other TLOU fanfic writers this year (myself included). She's a gem, and this fandom is so fortunate to have her. 🥰
🌟 @bluestar22x nominated @trulybetty and @morallyinept 🌟
Can't narrow down my pick for this to one, so @trulybetty and @morallyinept are both getting nominated. Both have been so kind and supportive of me and both are super talented writers. Thank you both for your kind words and sharing your wonderful fics.
🌟 @i-love-movies nominated @thegreenkid2 🌟
I nominate @thegreenkid2 with whom I had so many lovely chats about Pedro and movies in general sometimes for hours and very late into the night. I really enjoy geeking out together over so many different things.
🌟 @sp00kymulderr nominated @dieterbravobrainrotclub 🌟
Every member of the brainrot club, for being feral and silly and fun and thoughtful and insightful in so many ways. For making my year extra special. For making so many fun memories, and helping to lighten the mood. For your dedication to the man that is Dieter Bravo.
☃️ your favorite line of fic that you wrote this year
🌟 @bluestar22x - The Outcast
Favorite line: Guiding you into your future, like you had guided him home.
Fic: The Outcast
What makes it special to you: It's hard to pick one line from a fanfic I wrote this year, but I do love this line that ends my story "The Outcast". It's the first favorite line I thought of because it's simple and calls back to how it began. The fic is very themed around finding/discovering what you need with the help of another person.
🌟 @bitchesuntitled - Xerox
Favorite line: Jamie lets out a pathetic, “Oh d-d-dear,” sounding almost identical to Piglet from Winnie the Pooh, and audibly gulps while furiously nodding his head.
Fic: Xerox
What makes it special to you: I knew from the moment I started writing this story that I wanted Xerox!Pedro to be this inexperienced bumbling idiot and thinking about him stuttering out an “Oh dear” like Piglet cracked me up so much 🤣 It still makes me laugh whenever I see it/think about it
🌨️ your favorite memory from fandom this year
🌟 @sp00kymulderr had a favorite memory with @chronically-ghosted
We created the Dieter Bravo Brainrot Club in January 2024 and it has been easily my favourite place to hangout this year. I'm so glad that it exists, and I want to shout out: YOU, Taylor. The Dieter brainrot would not even exist without you. I love how we have spent so much time together this year spiralling over That Man. I love that I got to read so many of your wonderful fics about him, and scream about him with you. I love that we created a space together for others who feel the same way. I love being your friend.
🌟 @i-love-movies had a favorite memory with @miss-mandalorian
This fandom gave me a lovely friendship with @miss-mandalorian which I cherish very much even though a big ass ocean lies between us and we have yet to meet IRL. She just recently set me the most lovely gift. 💖
🌲 your favorite piece of media you made for fandom this year
🌟 @i-love-movies is super proud of:
Gladiator 2 South Park! Pedros
"I made this set of Gladiator 2 South Park! Pedros. I haven't posted a lot of South Park! Pedro this year cause I didn't feel very creative. This one sparked some of my creativity again."
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
it annoys me that in the overture for the anastasia musical, her grandmother sings the words to "once upon a december"
the whole point of that song is that she doesn't remember more than the tune! the words are about her vague memories of her childhood! it makes no sense for her grandmother to sing them!
#it's not like they would have needed to write something new; the movie has different words for the beginning#anyway something reminded me of this show this week#also i maintain that the plot from the movie with zombie rasputin > 'russian soldier with a crush and daddy issues'#no one ever thought the animated movie had anything to do with actual history and they should have kept it that way#although the nyt reviewer who said the show was 'tsarist propaganda' was pretty funny
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Heart: Christmas
Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader
Summary: Christmas with Sunshine
"You looking forward to it?" Frido asks as she crouches down at your side in training. "Santa's coming soon. Have your mummies made you write your letter yet?"
You look up from your colouring book, pausing in the movement of dragging the pink crayon over the mermaid picture. "We did them with our teacher," You answer, nodding to yourself as you switch from pink to purple.
"Has it been sent yet?"
You frown. "Where is it meant to go?"
Frido laughs, fondly pushing your hair out of your face. "To the North Pole."
"Oh." You look down at your colouring book. "I've never sent a letter before. Santa always just knows what I want." You rub at your chest, where the Santa Heart from last year beats.
You hadn't needed to write him a fancy letter to send off to the North Pole. He had just known you needed a special new heart like how the doctors knew and how Ingrid and Mapi knew.
He just did and he'd delivered.
He'd gotten you the new heart that's been in your chest for nearly a whole year now.
You frown a little, trying to work your mind through the idea of sending a letter to Santa.
"Does everyone send a letter to him?"
"Oh, yes," Frido says, nodding her head as she hands you the orange crayon you'd pointed at," Everyone."
"Even you?"
"Even me."
"What did you ask him for?"
"I asked...I asked for my boyfriend to cook us some good food?"
You scrawl the orange crayon across the little crab at the corner of the mermaid page. "That's a good idea." You swap your crayon for green to colour in the seaweed. "And everyone has sent their letters already?"
"They have."
"Can I ask what other people asked for?"
"Sure, let's go."
Ingrid smiles from a distance as Frido leads you around the pitch while everyone takes a water break
She can't quite imagine what her and Mapi's life would have been without you now that it's coming up to a year since you had received your new heart.
She can't imagine what would have been different if she hadn't met you in that hospital bed. She can't quite imagine what the team would be like without you around either, a little breath of fresh air with an even smaller camera in your hands clicking away at every possible moment.
The same little hands that hold your favourite camera now tug at Ingrid's shorts until she looks down.
"What did you ask for in your Santa letter?" You ask.
"Huh? My Santa letter?"
"Yeah, Ingrid," Frido says pointedly," The Santa letter that everyone writes and sends off to Santa."
"Oh, yeah!" Ingrid catches on quickly," That Santa letter! Well...I asked Santa to make sure that me, you and your Mami have a good day on Christmas and get to sleep in before presents!"
You nod along with a little furrow in your brow, like you're trying to commit it to memory or something.
You grab onto Ingrid's legs quickly, squeezing them into a hug before hurrying off across the pitch to where Alexia is talking to Irene and Marta - no doubt to ask them the same question.
You don't ever really explain why you went around asking everyone what they wrote in their Santa letters and Ingrid's content to let her curiosity go unquenched with that one.
It's not an overwhelmingly pressing issue to her. It's one she only thinks briefly of when the team come over for a Christmas party before everyone goes home for the holidays.
You're sat at the little coffee table in front of the tv, enraptured by another kid's movie that Alexia's set Mija up next to you to watch.
Mapi sits next to Ingrid on the sofa, filling up her wine glass again when she thinks Ingrid isn't looking.
"Do we think we got her everything she asked for?" Mapi asks, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth," I don't want her to have anything missing from her pile."
"We've got everything," Ingrid assures her," Trust me. Absolutely everything she asked for, we've gotten her."
"Even that Barbie camera that prints off the photos? I don't remember wrapping it! Do you think they'll still have it in the store?" Mapi stands up suddenly, the words flooding out of her mouth so quickly that Ingrid nearly struggles to keep up. "I'll head out now and check. Don't wait up for me. I might be a while."
Ingrid pulls her back down. "My parents got it for her. It's in the pile."
"Definitely?" Mapi checks. "They confirmed it? They bought her the actual one she liked, yeah? Not like a knock off version?"
Ingrid laughs. "They got her the proper one. I checked."
Mapi finally breathes a sigh of relief at that, settling back down into her seat for a moment before slipping off the sofa to join you and Alexia's daughter on the floor with the movie.
"You know I love you right, sunshine?" She mumbles into your hair and you peer back to look at her.
"I know," You say," I love you and Mama too."
"Yeah?"
"Uh-huh! I'm glad Santa gave you to me."
"I'm glad Santa gave you to us too."
You turn then, fully into Mapi's lap as you look at her.
"I wrote a letter to Santa," You say," My teacher helped. Is it too late to send?"
Mapi shakes her head. "It's never too late to send. Why don't you go and get it and me and Mama will get ready to post it?"
The letter is written on a tiny scrap of paper when you return from your bedroom, holding it out in front of you as you wait for Mapi and Ingrid to prepare the envelope for it to go into.
You decorate it with little stickers and Ingrid helps you write Santa's address on it before bundling you up in your coat, hat and scarf to walk down to the post box on the street.
"Mama," You ask," Can you lift me please?"
Ingrid lifts you up easily in her arms so you're just tall enough to reach the post box to slip your letter inside.
"And Santa will get it before Christmas? I'm sorry I left it late," You ask as you're tucked into bed that night.
"You know," Mapi says as she pulls the covers all the way up to your chin," Every night before Christmas, Santa's elves go to all the post boxes in the world to check for his letters and they bring them all back that night!"
"Really?"
"Really," Ingrid agrees, gently locking the door to Starshine and Moonshine's cage," And Santa reads them with a mug of warm milk and cookies so he can prepare for Christmas."
"So he'll be able to make sure he can definitely do what I've asked for?"
Mapi smiles, crossing her fingers and hoping that what you've written in the letter is something that's already been bought for you. "What did you ask for?"
"For everyone else to get what they asked him for. I took it back to school and my teacher helped me write what everyone wanted so Santa doesn't forget."
"You're so sweet," Ingrid says.
"And Santa will make sure everyone gets what they wanted?"
"He will. I'm sure he's so grateful that you reminded him."
You nod, settling down in bed. "Good. No one should be sad on Christmas."
#woso x reader#mapi leon x reader#mapi leon#ingrid engen x reader#ingrid engen#woso community#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso
520 notes
·
View notes
Text
NEW YEAR, NEW ME
( A collab with thee lovely lele @bloombabydoll )
If you want to reinvent and rebrand yourself, or just continue to make positive improvements in 2024, the first thing is to evaluate your current year.
EVALUATION
Reflect on how things went for you. Was there continuous growth? Were there many difficult times? Did you discover anything major about yourself and so on. Try to summarise your year in (a) paragraph(s) at least.
Oversee your goals. Which ones you didn’t, did achieve, difficult ones, easy ones and the impacts it had on your life.
Compare your dream girl then and now. Is your visualisation of your life currently different to the one you have now and why?
List any major losses or successes you’ve had in your life, and how they have helped you or why it matters to you.
This evaluation can be as detailed or simple as you like, but as long as you have a decent outline of your year.
PREPARING & PLANNING
To prepare for 2024, you want to know what you want life to be like in 2024. Something realistic to a point, but still is a growth journey.
Think of something that you can associate with 2024. This can be a word, a symbol, art, a song, a book, a movie, a place, or even just all of these things. When you think about your goals and your journey, this is your theme. This is something that should relate to your goals or your dream girl somehow.
For me, I chose a word and a song. My word is growth because, for me, 2023 was a year for just being able to shed my old self which I did achieve however I just felt there wasn’t much growth as an actual person and not just in my environment.
For my song, it is Mayflowers by Proleters and Taskrok. This song is the epitome of what I would imagine, is the most polished mindset. I would say perfect, but having a perfect mindset is near impossible. I want to have a mindset glow up because I’ve just been hard on myself lately which has caused my confidence to plummet.
Before we get into the fun part of the preparation stage, we have to do some organisation in our life. I want you to take a look at your daily lifestyle and your habits, and be completely unashamed about this.
Then categorise these habits into two sections; Leave and Leap. Leave habits are habits that you are leaving behind in 2023, leap habits are habits that are leaping into 2024 with you.
Any habits that are self-destructive, addictive or generally harmful are leave habits. Beneficial habits and self-building are leaping with you into the new year.
I want you to do the same for people in your life, all environments (school, work, online etc) and anything else you believe needs to be sorted out.
This works better if you can reason with yourself why it is a leaping or leaving habit, but don’t try to convince yourself a bad habit is good or vice versa.
Now, I want you to document an honest paragraph about who you are right now. List your bad and good habits, your strengths and weaknesses and your behaviours. This one requires a bit more detail.
Then, write a paragraph about who you will be in 2024, your dream girl. List her habits, lifestyle, behaviours, mindset, strengths and anything else extra. I’ll explain later but do not include materialistic desires in this your dream girl. Once again, this one also requires details.
Stemming from those paragraphs, I want you to create specific and achievable goals. SMART goals are best, but I want to introduce you to how I set goals.
I divide my year into quarters. For each 3 months, I have 3-5 goals for those months. Usually, it’s one from each area of my life. Then, I break down these goals.
Questions and How They Help
Why do I want to do this goal - For motivation and commitment.
How it’ll benefit me - For the sake of improvement.
How can I involve myself in this goal - To achieve your goal.
I prefer this method because it is a lot simpler for me, as I am just a young girl and my bigger goals are more in the future in which I’ll utilise SMART goals.
To create good goals; Make sure they align with your current values and life principles first. Try to avoid creating goals that you have just taken from the internet. Those goals just aren’t it and you most likely won’t follow through with it.
Be specific. Don’t say you want to eat more healthily, instead say you want to include (a certain group of veggies/fruits) in your diet and reduce the intake of ( food/drink).
E.g using eating healthy example
I want to eat healthy -> I want to start including foods that boost my immunity system and support my skin while reducing those that have the opposite effect.
Then break down those quarterly goals into monthly, weekly and daily goals. Make these habits that you can establish in your lifestyle and have a way in which you can refer back to your progress.
EXAMPLE GOAL BREAKDOWN
Quarterly Goal - Read 6 books.
Monthly Goal - Finish 2 books.
Weekly Goal - Be or near half way of one book.
Daily Goal - 20 minutes of reading per day.
AREAS TO SET GOALS IN YOUR LIFE
Academics
Spiritual
Fitness/sport
Health and wellbeing
Mental health
Personal life
Relationships
Hobbies and recreation
Now for the best part- vision boards! Collect all of your favourite images that embody your quarters or the whole year, then put them in one place where you can see them regularly!
Some ideas are a scrapbook, Pinterest boards, mood boards, playlists etc.
Choose your theme; It can be your healthy girl era, your academic come back or whatever you want. You can have more than two btw.
Use quotes! Then actually say them in your daily life as a way to shift your mindset to reflect said quote.
Include inspirational people. It doesn't even have to be a millionaire or a very well established person, it could be your friends or someone on the internet.
Be imaginative. Your vision board doesn't have to realistic in my opinion, as the whole point of it to me is that viewing it daily and considering it to be part of your life one day allows for you to open up to those opportunities.
Materialistic Wants
I feel obligated to make this a separate section. This section is practically tangible objects that you want.
However, when choosing this said object that you want, mindfully think about why you want that thing specifically.
It doesn’t have to be meaningful, but as long as each thing on that list has got a purpose to you, and will serve you, I think it’s all good!
Conclusion
If you want, you can definitely start implementing habits before January. However, I believe that as long as you go into 2024 at least knowing who you want to be and shedding away any limiting beliefs, you’ll be fine.
Make sure to incorporate some self care rituals into your daily life as well✨
To end this, I hope everyone has a very merry Christmas! And that 2024 they will achieve to close that gap with their current selves and their dream girl selves! 💖🙏
#that girl lifestyle#becoming her#becoming that girl#that girl#green juice girl#clean girl#pink pilates princess#pink pilates girl#pink pill#wonyoungism#new year#new me#reinvent yourself#im rebranding#resetting#self worth#self help#self reflection#self growth#self love#self care#self improvement#self development#inner peace#inner work#self reflecting
3K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi bug! I’m asking in anon bc it’s a bit of a sensitive subject for me to discuss but could you possibly write something about Eddie and reader being close(hopefully turning into lovers) and he sees her self harm scars for the first time and she is really embarrassed and tries to just stop speaking to him but he finally catches her alone and it turns into soft smut? I feel like your writing would do a story like this justice, but if it’s a heavy subject and you don’t want to write about it I understand ❤️
Hi! I kept the premise but changed a few details. I hope that's okay.
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fingering, unprotected p in v, mentions of self-harm (cutting) but no descriptions of blood or the act itself, parental conflict, Reader celebrates Christmas, angst to fluffy smut WC: 2.5k A/N: This fic is not meant to romanticize or promote self-harm of any kind. This is a comfort fic where the reader-insert character has a history of self-harm. That being said, if this subject matter is triggering for you, please keep scrolling. Sending all of you love, always.
Divider credit to @strangergraphics
“Okay, first we need two and a half cups of flour.”
Eddie wrinkled his nose when you handed him the measuring cup and a butter knife.
“So you can scrape off the excess,” you explained.
Your boyfriend scoffed and plunked the knife onto the countertop. “Have you ever heard of guesstimating, Sweetheart?”
“There’s no guesstimating in baking, Eds.” You dragged the bag of all-purpose flour away from him before he could ruin the recipe. “Everything has to be precise.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yes, dear,” he grumbled. But there was no missing the smile playing on his lips.
Spending time with Eddie wasn’t new; you’d known each other since he’d moved to Hawkins as a kid. The friendship had survived the ups and downs of junior high and high school, not to mention the years you were away at college.
What was new was the romantic relationship that had only developed six months ago. Now, Eddie was your boyfriend. Your regular movie nights ended in heated make-out sessions rather than nervous hugs goodbye. Eddie held your hand while you walked rather than playing air guitar. And your sleepovers often involve much less clothing than before.
It was different, but it was nice.
“Can you hand me the cream of tartar?” You asked him, holding out your palm.
“The what?” Eddie’s eyes widened. “Isn’t that the stuff you dip fish sticks in?”
You snorted. “No, that’s tartar sauce. Cream of tartar is a spice that will give the snickerdoodles a little tang.”
Strong, tattooed arms wrapped around you and pulled you toward him, his lips finding the crook of your neck in an instant, sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine.
“How about I give you a little tang?” Eddie’s words vibrated against your skin.
It took all of your willpower to focus on the task at hand and not give in. “I’m about to ban you from my kitchen.” You pinched some flour between your fingers and flicked it at him. It dusted his chin and the U-neck collar of his Metallica t-shirt.
Eddie gasped in mock-offense, reaching over and taking a handful of flour. Before you could protest, he opened his fist just above your head. The powder plopped onto your scalp and cascaded down your cheeks.
“Gotta go!” He bolted from the kitchen, nearly flinging himself up and over the counter.
You were fast on his trail, knocking over the yellow-and-white box of granulated sugar. It toppled off of the counter and landed on its side with a thud, leaving a crystalline trail in its wake.
“Dammit.” With an exasperated sigh, you rolled up your sleeves and cupped your hand, brushing the spilled sugar into your other palm.
It was suddenly too quiet—and not the kind of quiet that preceded a prank. The only sound came from the thunk of the trash can lid as you dumped the wasted sugar into the bag.
Eddie froze, his widening eyes the sole movement across his lithe body.
“Sweetheart…are those…?”
You follow his gaze to the thin lines along your wrist. Most had faded over time and were ones he had seen before, but there were a few new scars that you’d forgotten about.
“You’re…you’re still doing…that?” Eddie’s voice was laced with palpable nervousness, but there wasn’t an ounce of disgust. It might have been easier if there was; you were disgusted that you’d relapsed into self-harm, even if it was just once.
No, this was genuine concern and love.
“I…” You struggled to find the words, feeling like the teenager you were when you’d first cut yourself. Now you’re an adult–an adult who’s supposed to have better, healthier coping mechanisms–yet after a conversation with your mother led to an argument, you’d turned back to old habits.
Eddie took your hands in his. The slight tremble broke your heart into a million pieces and filled each crack with shame.
His thumb grazed over the new marks, careful not to reopen the wound. “When did you do this? W-Why did you…?”
“I don’t know.”
A flicker of frustration sparked in his deep brown eyes at your lie, a silent plea for your honesty.
And so you shoved that shame aside, your body caving into his as you told him everything, starting with the phone call from your mother.
You’d tried to explain that you were splitting Christmas between their place and Wayne’s, and since Eddie’s uncle worked the night shift, you’d go over to his trailer in the morning and your parents’ house in the evening.
A solid compromise as you navigated the balance of your relationship with Eddie.
Or so you thought.
Because the moment you laid out your plans, Mom was blubbering about the family tradition of opening presents on Christmas morning and how it won’t be the same and why is Wayne working on Christmas, anyway?
You didn’t have the energy to break down the older man’s finances—not that it was her business—but it didn’t matter. Mom already began tossing around terms like ungrateful and disrespectful.
Suddenly, you were no longer an adult in an apartment of your own. You were a teenager trapped under your parents’ roof with nowhere to go, no way to escape the chaos.
You couldn’t stop apologizing—to your mom then, and to Eddie now. Tears streamed down your cheeks, drawing hot rivulets over your skin.
But with Eddie, there was no disgruntled huff and abrupt end to the conversation. He grabbed a tissue, wiping at your eyes and beneath your nose.
“You could’ve called me,” he said. “I would’ve been over in a heartbeat. You didn’t need to do this.”
You shook your head. This was beyond him, and he knew it, too.
You didn’t realize that your eyes had glazed over, that your rumination had taken hold and kept you locked inside your brain, until Eddie spoke again.
“Look at me.”
You blinked, allowing yourself to re-enter the space. When the haze of anxiety began to clear, you felt his touch before you saw his face. His hand was noticeably warm and sweat-slicked, forefinger tucked up under your chin as he lifted it. Whatever stray tears remained on your face trickled down, sneaking into the crevices of his rings.
“Please don’t hurt yourself anymore.” The tip of his tongue swiped over his lower lip. With utmost tenderness, he leaned his forehead against yours. His exhale tickled your own nose. “Please just tell me when you’re sad or mad or…or anything.”
And then you were fourteen once again, confessing to Eddie the real reason why you only wore long-sleeved shirts while he stood there helplessly, nearly dropping the can of Chef Boyardee in the middle of Wayne’s kitchen. Though you were a decade older now, Eddie’s face fell the same way it had in 1980. Confusion and defeat warred for prominence, his brows knit together and his shoulders slumped.
“You can’t fix me,” you said finally.
“I know. Because you’re not broken.” Eddie’s hands fell to your wrists, gingerly clutching them. “A little battered, but not broken.”
He meant it, though you didn’t know how. Besides the physical scars on your wrists, you carried a world of pain on your shoulders. You were buried in the weight of inferiority and the inability to measure up to expectations.
Eddie sensed your hesitation to believe him. “I love you,” he said softly. “I loved you when we were seven and you gave me a Band-Aid after I fell off of my bike. I loved you when we were thirteen and you used the peanut butter from your sandwich to get Tommy Hagan’s gum out of my hair.
“I loved you when we were eighteen and you went off to college, but you still called me every Thursday night. I loved you when we were twenty-four and I finally asked you out, and you kissed me before I could finish my sentence.” He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling through his t-shirt. “And I’ll never stop loving you. So, please…please don’t hurt yourself again.”
You nodded, hoping it was a promise you could keep. Hoping that this was just a slip-up and not the beginning of a full-blown relapse.
Exhaustion fell over you as your tears slowed. “I should probably clean myself off.” You shook your head for emphasis, some of the remaining flour clouding as it fell.
“Let me help.”
Eddie followed behind you, just watching as you picked out the residue over the bathroom sink. The yellow-tinged vanity lighting emphasized the worry that he wore like a mask.
You turned to him. “I’m okay,” you said with a timid smile. “It was just a one-time thing. I swear.”
His tone was firm when he spoke. “But if it isn’t—if you want to do it again or think about doing it again—you need to tell me.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “I won’t run away. I’m right here.”
You melted into him, flour-coated scalp be damned, and wrapped your arms around him. “I promise.”
“Good.” A small relief, but relief nonetheless.
Your fingers tangled in the soft cotton of his t-shirt. “It’s like my brain gets too loud, and I can’t shut it off sometimes.” You swallowed, not able to look at him yet. “But sometimes it helps when I…when I think about you. About how safe I feel with you.”
He brushed flour from your shirt collar. You could tell that he wanted to say something despite the ensuing quiet. Yet he just shoved his hands into his pockets and walked back out to the kitchen wordlessly.
It wasn’t until that evening, laying in bed with one tattooed arm wrapped around your waist, that Eddie posed the question that had been sitting on his lips since the afternoon.
“You feel safe with me?”
You rolled over to face him. “Of course. You’re, like, my safe place.”
Eddie held you tighter. “You’re my safe place, too.” He pressed a soft kiss to your nose. “And maybe I’m a little selfish because of it, but I really need you around. Okay?”
Even in the darkness, you could see his eyes shining with worry and fear. That he would wake up without you. That you’d be gone when he least expected it.
“I never meant to scare you,” you promised, your voice a whisper even though it was only the two of you. “I wasn’t…”
I wasn’t thinking about you, you almost said. Not that you didn’t care about him—your mind was too occupied with Mom’s stinging words to think of anything else. Of anyone else—including Eddie.
His reassurance came swiftly. “I know,” he said. “And I want you to know that you deserve to be happy. You deserve not to worry about anyone else’s bullshit. Even your mom’s.”
Eddie took your hand, lifted one scarred wrist to his lips, and kissed it. There was a slight sting from the newer cut, but it disappeared as quickly as it presented.
“You deserve to be happy,” he continued, kissing another scar. “You deserve to live a life where you know that no one is worth hurting yourself over.”
You brought your arm back to your side and shifted even closer to him. Your nose bumped his when you leaned in to kiss him, eliciting a giggle from both you and Eddie.
“Sorry—” You started to apologize, but his hands flew to your cheeks as he kissed you harder. His tongue flicked over the seam of your lips, asking for entry that you granted without a second thought.
“God, I fuckin’ love your laugh.” Eddie shook a rogue curl from his eyes. Instinctively, his leg slotted between yours. It was only when you ground your core against his flannel-clad thigh that he realized what he’d done.
He moved back an inch, though that one leg stayed in place. “Baby, we don’t—I know today’s been a lot. I’m fine kissing you, y’know?”
“I know.”
“You don’t have to do anything for me. I’m a big boy; I can jerk off in the bathroom if you’re not in the mood—”
You were tired, but an invisible thread inside you had been tugged, awakening an ache that only Eddie could quell.
“I know,” you repeated. “I want this, too. I…I need it, Eddie.”
His teeth grazed your neck. “What do you need?” He growled, a primal edge in his tone.
“I need you to show me I’m safe.”
With those words, you let go of the control you clutched like a precious stone. The relief would be temporary—everything in this world was—but you felt the burden ease with each article of your clothing that Eddie removed. You could have floated, your body weightless, when he kissed each millimeter of your skin. Even the parts you preferred to keep hidden.
His middle finger was what anchored you to reality. It found your clit, rubbing circles on it while his other hand gripped your hip.
Slowly, torturously, his finger inched inside you, drawing a shuddering breath from your lips.
“S’good?” He looked down at you, waiting for confirmation. “Do you need more?”
More. More sounded perfect, and you told him so.
There’s no teasing tonight. Eddie didn’t make you beg before he slipped his ring finger inside you, curling both fingers to stroke that sweet spot.
Your back arched, taking him in deeper. He obliged, murmuring your name and sweet praises as he touched you.
“There you go.”
“So good for me.”
“That’s it.”
“You’re gorgeous like this.”
Wetness slickened his fingers and dripped down onto the bedsheet. He let go of your hip for a second to palm himself over his pajama pants, stopping only when you reach for him.
“Eds.” You tried not to pout when he paused his ministrations. “Y-You can…”
With a quick nod, Eddie shucked off his clothes and tossed them to the carpeted floor. They landed with a plop, a noise drowned out by his moan when he pressed his erection against you.
Safe. With Eddie, you were safe.
Your breath hitched as he entered you; it was a fullness that felt so natural yet like each time was the first.
Eddie groaned as your fingers dug into his back, reveling in the mutual desire. He braced his forearms on either side of you, caging in your head.
“Eyes on me,” he ordered. “There’s nothing else. Just us, okay?”
“‘Kay.” There was no time to say anything else; he leaned down and kissed you, moaning into it with unbridled need.
If the alarm clock on your nightstand wasn’t counting the minutes, you would have sworn that time was suspended. Each thrust, each kiss, each murmur of your name was a second and a day.
Eddie’s lips brushed your ear. He whispered, “you’re so beautiful,” sending an arrow of need straight to your core. “My sweet, beautiful girl.”
“Yours,” you agreed in a whimper. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him in further, as pleasure washed over you. It claimed him a moment later, his face buried in your neck.
When the sun rises, your scars will once again be visible. And the lingering sadness and frustration won’t have completely dissipated.
But you’ll handle it. With Eddie by your side, you’ll power through until getting through each day is no longer a chore.
You’re safe.
--
#eddie x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x you#fanfic#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things#smut#eddie munson angst#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#requests
447 notes
·
View notes
Text
Oh those precious memories~
See I could tell myself that it's okay that I'm writing this because I am a catholic woman but let's be real those things just aren't true any more. So instead I am going to claim this as an emotional craving because of that time of the month. Definitely nothing along the lines of 10 year revival of my fanfiction writing phase. And it's totally, in no way related to any issues I might have. Totally sane, I tell you.
! 18+ Minors do not interact, I am NOT a fckn daycare!
Yandere! Hazbin Hotel x GN! Reader
Content warning: obsessive behaviour, stalking, slight NSFW (more in some parts then others), just a bunch of red flags and things that I do not condone irl
Charlie:
Honestly Charlie might be the most sane of the bunch in this regard
She isn't to interested in stealing anything from you, that is just not something she would be comfortable with – in general but especially with her Darling
However she doesn't mind keeping things that you let her borrow
It doesn't even matter what
You gave her a hair tie because one of hers broke? She'll cherish it forever
It was raining on a day she had to go out and you suggested she could use your umbrella? Pretty much hers now
Of course the greatest thing for her would be you lending her some of your clothes
She would most likely spend the next nights cuddling up to it in bed
Oh the frustration when the fabric no longer smells like you but rather her!
Yeah sure, she can give you your things back. She just forgot them in her room, oops! Don't worry she'll get them later
Unless she forgets again...
Vaggie:
She would never take anything you truly need or value
In all seriousness, Vaggie could never stand the idea of inconveniencing her Darling
However unlike Charlie she is just not close enough with you (yet) to count on you giving things to her
So instead she uses the position she has in the Hotel
There was a movie night with everybody invited?
Well somehow ever since the clean up the blanket you were cuddled up in is gone. Oh well, Vaggie will just get a new one, they weren't that expensive to begin with anyway (and if she is fast enough with it nobody is even going to notice anything)
Sadly those lucky occasions that allow her to grab some reminders of your shared time don't come around to often
And Vaggie respects you and herself to much to steal from you or go through your garbage bin
Thankfully she has the patience to wait for those windows of opportunity
And hey, since everything went relatively smoothly this week why not suggest another movie night to Charlie? Everyone involved seemed to enjoy it anyway – so there really is no harm done, right?
Angel:
Anybody who immediately thought of Angel stealing his Darling's underwear needs to take a cold shower!
Now don't get me wrong – he has thought about it
He does have a relatively high drive and desire for intimacy and sex
So sure the idea of taking something rather personal from you did cross his mind
But deep down Anthony just is a little sweetheart and he just couldn't take something like your underwear or other intimate items from you without any sort of consent
As for other, less private things
It doesn't matter if Angel and you have the same of different sizes – he WILL steal your clothes and wear them
If you wear make-up or nail polish he will definitely “borrow” things – especially lipstick
Now if his Darling is somebody who likes to keep a lot of pillows or plushies in bed he is definitely not shy about taking things from that pile either. Although, depending on how well Darling keeps track of those things, he might only borrow them for a night or two – maybe rotating between some, making sure to leave them under the bed upon returning so it looks like it just fell off the mattress
Alastor:
Now Alastor is already rather torn apart when he first noticed his desire for your belongings
He never once though about stealing from you...until you forgot something in the lobby – a book, notebook, pen, whatever it was – it was just lying there on the table next to the couches
Ever the gentleman he obviously wanted to return it to you but something inside of him fought against the very idea of it. This might be the closet he gets to having you (at least for now), his Darling
As his obsession towards you continues to grow some of his past life's interests stir awake inside of him
One day whilst helping out you cut yourself on some damaged bit of furniture. Alastor is immediately there to offer you a handkerchief to stop the bleeding – a handkerchief that quickly becomes one of his most prised possessions
If his Darling has a period he might steal some...used goods
However in comparison to some of the others, he is a lot less hungry for souvenirs
Although that is really just because, unlike them, he can use his shadows to be around you whenever and as close as he pleases
Husk:
Husk would never just go into his Darling's room to steal things from them – even if the idea sounds lovely
No instead he just checks for things you leave behind
Now his job at the hotel really helps him with that
You almost exclusively talk at the bar (“Redemption Based Group Exercises” being the only real exception)
At this point he has a rather large collection of napkins that you used or doodled on
Sometimes they disgust him but then he looks at them, the little doodles (even just to test a pen) you left on some of them, all those marks of you (bonus points for lipstick stained napkins) and he just can't
The guilty feelings are even worse with a tissue you once cried it. It's just to close of a reminder of you to throw away!
Anything small that you forget at or close to the bar gets saved by him – pens, small pieces of paper, hair ties, buttons from your clothes, whatever really. If it's small and unimportant enough for you to not really miss it he is going to keep it
Nifty:
Nifty is easily the worst of them all
She is small, fast, obsession driven and the hotel's maid on top of that
What matters most to her is how close to your body her little mementos are (it's pretty much the same way in wish the catholic church determines the value of a saint's relic)
Nifty will most definitely collect hair out of your brush
Or rummage through your garbage bins
Now if somebody is going to steal used period products!
She just really doesn't value her Darling's privacy in the slightest so she has no issues going through every little crevice of your room to look for some “hidden treasures”
Although her favourite thing to do is sleep in your used bedsheets
She is going to wash them – don't worry! Simply just not without first sleeping in them herself for a bit
---------------------------------------------------------
Welp this is the first time in a long while that I've actually written fanfiction so I got those emotions to sort through I guess.
English is not my first language however given how arrogant I can be regarding my skills this should be well enough written. Prove reading was done by Open Office's spell checking system and my high ass.
#hazbin hotel x reader#yandere hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel imagine#yandere hazbin imagine#charlie x reader#charlie morningstar x reader#vaggie x reader#angel dust x reader#alastor x reader#radio demon x reader#husk x reader#niffty x reader#yandere charlie#yandere charlie morningstar#yandere vaggie#yandere angel dust#yandere alastor#yandere radio demon#yandere husk#yandere niffty#hazbin hotel reader insert
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
HAPPY MISTAKE — Logan Howlett
Summary: Not ever, through all the years of your life, you found someone like Logan. Since he arrived at the school, something brought you together like a magnet. Sadly, not everything came out as you wished it would be. Time is not gentle with mutants, and you try so hard to show him your unconditional love before everything is over, but can you finally accept your feelings for each other? Or yours and Logan's tumultuous relationship through the years.
(PART ONE → PART TWO) | GEN MASTERLIST!
Pairing: Logan x mutant!female!reader.
Word count: 9.6k.
Warnings: slow burn, breaking up(?)/making up, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut and unprotected everything, language, character death, time travel, Logan hurting reader unintentionally, wounds and blood. Logan being a whore for both Jean Grey and the reader. Reader has slow aging as Logan and looks around mid 30s in my head. Anthropology teacher!reader. Reader can manipulate light (just like Starlight from The Boys). This takes place between different movies from the franchise, from X-Men 1 to DoFP, so spoilers of the movies ahead.
Notes: Long time no write. Life is horrible but somehow I managed to get this in like two months. I love Logan so fucking much now you don't have an idea. This was also written with Happy Mistake by Lady Gaga in mind. If you'd like to be tagged in the second part let me know or let me know your thoughts on this, it's very much appreciated! I suffered a lot writing it .
𝒊𝒇 𝒊 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒇𝒊𝒙 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒊'𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆.
—
2000
“Need any help?”
Logan stopped on his tracks from wandering around the cozy, yet strange place he woke up in. Turning on his feet, he saw your figure standing in the middle of the hallway. He said nothing, but you approached him as you had known him for a very long time.
“I assume you’re the new guy-”
“Where is she?” Logan abruptly interrupted once you stood inches away from him.
“Rogue? She’s fine. And you need to take a little rest.”
“I don’t need medical attention,” he said, looking around to search for a nearby exit. Before he walked away you took his arm in a soft grip.
He was, as much as you could tell, surprised by your boldness. You gave him no time to process his next movements once you talked again, your voice firm and welcoming in a way he had never felt before.
“Please, you need to meet Professor Xavier,” you said. “At least before you go. It’s totally fine if you wanna leave, I don’t recommend it though, but we can offer you a safe place here. We are just like you.”
Logan’s hardened expression relaxed for a moment, sensing no threat coming from you. All he saw in your eyes wasn’t pity, nor anger at him being kind of an asshole at first. It was just authority, the good kind where he also had something to say and decide about.
“Whatcha say, Logan?”
He was so immersed in his thoughts before you called his name, thinking it sounded beautiful falling off your lips. You gave him a half smile as he took in each detail of your face, as if he was memorizing every part of it.
It was the first time someone had been nice to him and it felt strangely good.
For some reason, it felt very good coming from you.
—
Logan just found out from the Professor’s mouth the mansion was a school for mutants. Gifted people, he called them. After learning another powerful mutant was behind him and Rogue, he had no other choice but accept the shelter. He didn’t like the other guys better, playing the teacher with a bunch of teenagers with special or cursed abilities. But besides Storm and Jean, you were the person who had welcomed him the most, even showing him the place and the room he would stay in.
One late night, you sat at the dining table together. Logan was silently drinking a beer outside school hours so the kids wouldn’t see him, and you, reading a bunch of papers from your students that you were missing. He realized how hard you worked, how you would praise your students, how you talked to them outside classes, being the one to actually convince Rogue to enroll in the school. Immediately, he knew you were really something, having much more in common than he thought. And you, living for so long, being both a mutant and a lady for sure had a hard life through time.
“What you teach again?” he suddenly asked, breaking the comfortable silence you shared.
“Anthropology,” you answered, giving him a short glance. “I took this at college a long time ago, and I’ve been alive long enough to know a thing or two,” you explained, putting away a paper after putting an A+ on it proudly. “It’s important to understand ourselves, humankind and mutants… It’s a diverse world and there are lots of cultures, languages and societies we don’t get to know, but it’s beautiful. I think I like to celebrate what makes us unique. I've had the chance to study some of them around the world since I had the time, y’know, and it’s truly amazing. It’s a shame we have to fight between us to make us heard when we could just be kind and empathetic to each other… Sorry, you didn’t ask but, y’know, anyway.”
You shook your head with a curve on your lips, going back to the next paper. Logan had taken the sparks in your eyes as you talked. He half smiled to himself once you buried yourself in your papers again, thinking you sounded just like Professor Xavier. No wonder why he took you in. Probably, if things were different for him, he would’ve found something that could light his face with so much passion just like you did.
“Been alive for almost two hundred years,” Logan said and you looked up to him. “We might have things about the past to share,” he drank from his beer. It was your turn to smile back at him.
“Yeah, well, I’ve lived both horrible but nice things. Couldn’t read or do math without being called a witch,” you chuckled to yourself, but hiding on the inside the awful experiences you had to endure. “Someday, we could go out and grab a coffee or something,” you said with a playful smile.
A light chuckle left your lips, but you and him knew it wasn’t just a joke.
He joined you with a warm smile that lit up his face before disappearing from his lips. “Of course. Count me in.”
—
The sun was shining bright and the weather was great that morning. Some of the students were in the yard playing, having some quality time, and others simply just left to go to the town. It was a good weekend before the next semester started, and it was better now knowing Magneto had been taken to prison after his failed attempt to use Rogue for his plans.
Sipping on your coffee, you saw the students outside. Laughing, running, having a good breakfast picnic. It felt heartwarming just taking this sight, wishing it would always be like this. Your mindful peace was interrupted when Logan entered the kitchen to have a coffee on his own. Visibly, you tensed just a little when he approached you and sat right in front of you at the dining table. The caffeine was not helping at all, you thought.
“Morning,” he greeted you, noticing something was off on you, but hoping it would pass. Maybe you already knew.
“Morning…” your voice came out as a whisper. “How you feeling?”
“Better. What about you?”
You gave a small nod. “Good, thanks for asking.”
A silence fell upon you. Not like the ones you used to share in lonely nights where you prepared your classes and Logan just sat down calmly because he couldn’t sleep. This time it was different. Words won’t come out of your mouth to ask what was really bothering you. You had grown up to like Logan and enjoy his company, but he had a lot of walls upon him, protecting himself of the world and people around him.
However, you understood why he did it. You both have been alive longer than anyone else. You saw people you love dearly dead, being killed because of your flaws. And you really connected to his idea of protecting people by leaving their side. It was better being away. That was until Professor Xavier recruited you. Here, you had a purpose and you helped young people to become the best versions of themselves. You wished Logan could do the same, stay and see he was more of what he thought of himself, but it wouldn’t happen. Right? He had things to sort out on his own.
“Are you leaving soon?”
When you asked the question, Logan knew you had heard something from the Professor. He gave you a nod.
“I need to reconnect with who I was,” he simply answered.
“Right… Wish you all the best there.”
Logan had grown to like you over the past few weeks you shared, exchanging experiences and lessons of life you had taken through the years. For a moment, he looked right into your eyes and smiled. He weirdly smiled, and you could swear he’d miss you too once he is away.
But that warm feeling soon faded away once Jean walked into the kitchen, saying good morning and beaming to the both of you. Logan followed her with his gaze, straightening himself on his seat as she served her own breakfast and an extra plate that you already knew was for Scott. She also began putting fruits and snacks inside a picnic basket while looking all happy and settled, and you knew why Logan had fallen in love with her. It was all over his face.
And you wondered how could he act and talk to you so kindly and sweet, and then look at Jean like that. It was a pain in your heart you tried to dissipate. Everyone knew Jean and Scott were a couple, and the fact that Logan had a not so secret crush on her really played on you. It made you feel like a fool and you had too many heartbreaks and hurted people, putting them in danger due to your mutation, to take initiative and start a relationship - or anything of the sort - again.
Scott made his way inside the kitchen, saying hi to both of you - mostly you. And took the tray with their plates as Jean grabbed the basket, but she let Scott leave the kitchen before.
“Have a good trip, Logan,” she said kindly. “I hope to see you around here soon.”
“Thank you, Jean.”
She smiled one last time before leaving you all alone, Logan following her with his eyes. Just for a second, you wished he could see you like that underneath his facade.
—
You had packed your stuff later that day, deciding a little air and a change for one night would do no wrong. Just as you were walking to the main door, Rogue was saying her goodbyes to Logan after giving him a small hug without really touching him. It was a cute sight how Rogue was able to step into his cold heart. She said goodbye to you as well before leaving the entrance.
“You’re going away too?” Logan asked, rather surprised as you both walked through the door, the sun hitting your skin as soon as you were out of the mansion. He knew your life was at the school.
“Just for the weekend,” you shrug it off.
Logan gave you a nod with a warm smile. “Then have a good trip and enjoy yourself.”
“Thanks. I hope you find what you’ve been looking for.”
“I hope so too,” Logan answered and before he went to take Scott’s bike, he looked at you hesitantly for a couple of seconds. “We should go out and grab some coffee once I’m back.”
Your lips formed a wide smile. “That sounds really nice.”
For a moment, where time felt like hours and not seconds, you stood right out the door, looking at each other. You wanted him to go first, but he was waiting for you to say something. Probably to ride the bike with him, he could leave you somewhere near your destination and feel you close - just be around you for at least five more minutes. But none of that ever happened.
Instead, you studied his face, looking at his deep eyes, and then his lips - those lips you wanted to kiss so bad before, but never had the courage to do so. You didn’t think further, and if something had taken possession over you, you leaned towards him leaving a short, sweet kiss on the corner of his lips.
“Take care,” you mumbled once you pulled away.
Not waiting for his answer, you turned back, pulling your bag to your side stronger than ever and walked the path to the front gates, feeling his gaze all over you until you left the mansion.
He felt such an idiot for not kissing you properly.
—
2003
‘I know what I want, but what do you want?’
Mystique’s words echoed through his head. Logan left the tent so long ago he didn’t know what time it was anymore and the situation kept repeating again and again in his mind. The woman had shifted between Jean, Ororo, and you. The one that icked him the most being Rogue once Mystique had taken her figure in. Storm was a good colleague, Jean was a forbidden love, Rogue was like his little sister, someone he would protect as long as he could, and you… you were a different case. When Mystique was about to kiss him wearing your figure, he finally realized he started feeling things he had prohibited himself for a very long time, and he thought he shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t.
Once or twice you shared experiences about love and partners, but he could tell it hurted you the same way as him. He couldn’t burden breaking your heart, or worse, getting you hurt because of what he was. Logan knew you had the same bad luck in the past, but it didn’t stop any of you to pull towards each other like a magnet.
‘Living for so long does things to you, Logan. I feel we become more aware of what we are.’
Those words you said to him one time remained in his head like a warning, and he took it personally.
Closing his eyes, he leaned against a hard tree trunk some feet away from the tents where the rest of the X-Men rested. He tried to find some peace alone for a few moments when the sounds of steps approaching alerted his senses. Claws out and ready to attack, he spun around the trunk only to stop in a second.
There you were, a bright light emanating from your hand to illuminate your path in the darkness of the woods.
“Logan?”
Quickly, he withdrew his claws and his body relaxed visibly. “Sorry,” he apologized, leaning against the tree one more time.
“Are you okay?” you asked, but you already knew the answer. The exhausted sigh he let out told you everything you needed. You let the soft glow of light floating between you and him, to illuminate both of you under the branches. “You wanna talk?”
He slowly shook his head, mumbling ‘no’. He became startled in the light floating like a firefly, letting his own issues wash away with your sole company. Ironically, everything that was troubling him was you. Softly, you caressed his arm, taking him out of his own thoughts. Your touch didn’t help his poor mind either.
Looking worried about the next mission in Lake Alkali, you feared for him and your team. And your lack of sleep was showing it. But just like Logan, the growing feelings were troubling your head. You had seen him talking with Jean earlier when you landed in the forest - talking too close to your liking once he pulled her for a kiss. But what could you do? Logan was still after Jean even when she had already declined him countless of times, and it didn’t really hurt you. It just felt strange inside. Why would he do that while still being nice to you, quitting being a dick when he wanted because he knew you’d snap back at him. And to be honest, Logan looked as if he liked that about you. But he won’t admit it out loud, and of course, you wouldn’t ask. Men were so damn complicated.
“Well, I only expect things to not get worse…” you finally said in a soft whisper since he wasn’t talking and you stopped your head going further on the matter. And you knew he wouldn’t talk soon either. “And you’re brave for seeking your past.”
Logan locked his eyes with your own, under the soft light. Your tired gaze, your figure, your aura pulling him like he found a treasure in an abandoned cave… He felt so bad for falling for someone like you, who was nothing compared to the crap he was. And then, for the first time in years, he decided to follow his instinct with you.
He leaned towards your figure, his rough hand cupping your cheek gently before pulling you in for a kiss. With a soft sigh you corresponded, your arms around his neck as it turned deeper and harsher. Logan lifted you easily from the ground, your legs tangling around his waist until you felt your back against a rough surface, trapped between the trunk and his body. Soft moans and grunts mingled, your chest pressing against his own, his hips grinding against your crotch. It was obvious you wanted this. Logan desired you so painfully after that day you kissed him goodbye at the mansion, he needed your body and soul. But you had to have answers before giving into the heat of the moment.
Pulling away, you broke the kiss, your forehead resting against his own as you tried to catch your breath. Logan tried to taste you once again, but you placed two of your fingers on his swollen lips.
“Why’d you kiss her?”
He remained silent, brows furrowed and eyes blown in lust. You didn’t make any effort to pull him away. He still had you between his legs, asking a simple question he had no response for.
“We’re adults here, Logan. Just wanna know why before we go further.”
Logan started to remember. He vividly heard Jean and Mystique voicing out and asking the right question.
‘Girls flirt with the bad guy. They take the good guy home.’
‘What do you want?’
“Do you really want me?” he asked in return.
You lifted an eyebrow at his sudden question. “And do you?”
He leaned again for a kiss on your lips, and thankfully for him, you didn’t stop it. But he quickly pulled away and inhaled your sweet scent from the skin on your neck, leaving a path of soft pecks, until he nipped the shell of your ear softly. You shivered under his touch.
“I’d love to have you,” he whispered, softly caressing your cheek with his thumb.
“Come to my tent,” you mumbled. “Sleep with me. But like, seriously, sleep with me ‘cause I’m tired,” you chuckled, hoping to not kill the mood.
Logan smiled for a bit and nodded, pecking your lips one more time before helping you get on your feet on the muddy ground, hands rubbing your sides slowly.
“As long as I have you by my side it’s alright with me.”
—
Jean’s death was hard to swallow.
For weeks, students and teachers mourned her, and you felt sorry for Scott for losing his soulmate. Logan was not in the best shape either. He didn’t attend her funeral, he never had the guts to stand by her grave either, until now. You stopped right behind him and noticed him sighing, under the afternoon sunset. He was tense because of everything, but when you took his hand out of the pocket of his jacket, he held onto you. Your fingers intertwined together, feeling his life depending solely on you, like a rock he needed to support his whole weight.
The day was about to end, the sun slowly hiding, giving a beautiful painting of orange and purple in the sky. You thought it would soon become an intense thunderstorm due to Ororo’s mourn - something you had gotten used to the last few days.
“She saved us,” Logan barely mumbled, looking intensely at the grave.
You nodded, even if he could not see you. “Can’t blame her, I’d have done the same.”
Those words cause him to look back at you, wishing it’d be a lie. But inside, Logan knew you really had the guts to sacrifice yourself for others. It was something he remembered both of you talking about some time ago. And you would give everything in your hands to save the ones you love.
Quietly, Logan gave a last glance at Jean’s grave, and guided you inside the mansion. Classes barely started again due to the circumstances and a few kids could be seen around the halls. You accompanied him to the doors of his room, noticing you had been holding hands the whole time. Probably no one really cared, they were too busy trying to go through the grief of losing a loved one. Slowly, you broke the gesture, taking your hand away and Logan immediately missed the heat and comfort of your hand.
“Do you need anything?” you asked in a low voice.
Looking at you, Logan reminisced how you kissed in the woods, the need and lust for each other that couldn’t be. He did sleep in your tent that night, in the comfort of your arms, feeling the warmth of your skin. It was, probably, the first time he had a good, peaceful night of sleep in years. No one had brought that up, but he knew something was there. And he needed to act on it before it was too late.
So he brought up his hands to your face, cupping your cheeks lovingly before planting a kiss on your lips, not caring he was standing in the middle of the hallway where anyone could see what was going on. You leaned against his touch, deepening the kiss until you couldn’t catch a breath. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead into yours, taking in the beauty of your bright eyes and swollen lips. Everything wandering his mind, making a path right into his cold heart was right in front of him.
“You.”
—
Knocking Professor Xavier's door, you walked inside as soon as his voice announced to come in. You caught your breath seeing Logan by his desk. He just gave you a quick, accomplice glimpse and left the room, closing the door behind. The exchange of glances wasn’t unnoticed by Charles.
“Here’s the report on my subject for this last semester, Professor,” you announced, leaving the folder on the wooden desk.
“Thank you. How’s Logan doing?” he asked all of a sudden, checking the door the man had crossed just seconds ago.
“Excuse me?”
“Do you believe he is comfortable helping the kids?” the old man asked again. He was seeing right through you, and you kind of hated every time he used to do that to you. Nothing could be hidden from Xavier; definitely you couldn’t hide a single thing for the man who took you in decades ago.
“Why would I know that?”
He shrugged it off. “Well, you seem very close lately.”
Close was not the best word to describe your relationship with Logan. Yet, you were sleeping on his bed just the night before. The trace of his kisses, the burn of his beard on your skin, his teeth biting softly your breasts, his rough hands all over your hips… Every touch he left on your body you could still feel it, and you wanted to think he was not just using you. During the past weeks, you were together. Not quite a relationship-thing was established properly, but it was the closest thing any of you could have as for now.
It was a mixture of grief, pain, and hope that had you both still standing. In the end, you understood what he felt. Being alone and alive for so long and then finding a place where people accepted you for who you were was a whole change, even if some years passed by. Though, the time Logan had been spending at the school was nothing but a blink of an eye compared to his past.
“What happened to our team is still affecting us,” you finally said. “I believe we are good friends, yes, we’ve been supporting each other. And he doesn’t know how to deal with the students yet most of the time, but I try to walk him through it.”
Xavier hummed, smiling at the corner of his lips as he eyed the folder you handed him. “I bet you both do.Thanks for bringing your report on time, as always, and I apologize if I am being intrusive. Just please be careful with the noises both of you make at night, we have kids around here.”
Shit.
You swallowed your pride right there and simply gave a nod, feeling the heat burning up your face.
“Will do, Professor.”
—
A loud gasp escaped your lips as you held for dear life on his broad shoulders, hips snapping against your own. His pace was reckless, keeping you on the edge of sin. Grunts mixed with sweet moans, skin hitting skin again and again every time you felt his cock inside you. If possible, your nails could have already left visible scars and marks on his back, scratching and bleeding off his skin as he fucked you senseless.
Logan sucked on the bare skin on your neck, inhaling your scent, feeling your walls clenching around his girth, his hands roughly grabbing the sides of your hips as you moaned his name, over and over, under the moonlight. He looked at you intensely with loving eyes when you came underneath him, eyes flashing that familiar bright light every time a powerful orgasm hit your body. The vulnerable sight of your figure shaking, eyes closing slowly and biting your lip to keep the pretty noises low, made him reach the sweetest high.
With a grunt, he leaned to attack your lips in a heated, wet kiss to moan against your mouth. Logan pulled back to press butterfly kisses on your jaw, until he reached your breasts, feeling himself soften inside your wet heat. His hips were still thrusting just enough to fill you up at a gentle rhythm. Marking you his and only his.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled against the sensitive skin of your chest. “Remind me why we’re here again.”
You chuckled softly, fingers tangling on his disheveled hair. You just had prepared a small date night out at the shores of a beautiful lake in the woods. No one could bother you if you were alone, and since your relationship was not so secret anymore, you needed him in a place that wasn’t the school. So here you were, laying on your back, fully naked on the picnic blanket, with the Wolverine between your legs, enjoying the calmness of the water, the green grass, the crickets singing around, and the cold of the night.
“Privacy perhaps?” you whispered as his eyes locked on yours.
Softly you touched his cheek with the palm of your hand and he rolled both of you over, until you laid on top of him, legs straddling his waist and your arms on his shoulders to sit on his lap. Silence took over, his hands soothing your hips and the marks he left on your body from the intense love-making.
“I’m so happy we took a couple of days off…”
You waited for Logan to say something. Anything. You wanted to continue, to tell him how you really felt. Instead, you decided it was better leaving it like this. Logan gave you a nod, pulling you for a short kiss.
“Yeah. Me too.”
He wanted to say it out loud, but was too scared to do so.
—
2006
After a couple of long years, the school and the team had to learn how to go through the grief and pain Jean left. Logan had a hard time processing it, just like all your teammates, specially Scott, and of course the students. It didn’t stop you from moving on as time went by though, always remembering her for the great person and mind she was. Going forward and keeping fighting is what she would’ve wanted for everyone, even now that a certain cure for mutants was announced to the public.
You tried to continue your life as a professor at the school, training students, leading young people, and you invited and encouraged Logan to do so countless times. Deep inside, you wished it was you the reason why Logan decided to stay and train young mutants - for you to be the answer to his loneliness. That he knew, for once and all, that he was not alone. You got each other, and you could do something about it. Words unspoken said more than anything, at least you thought so.
It was one of those rare nights where you got some time for yourselves, walking around the city after having a nice and calm dinner. Your shoulders brushed against each other while you walked downtown, your hands hiding inside the pockets of your jacket, protecting them from the cold.
There was a lot on your mind lately, thinking about what you two really were. If there was a stronger feeling in between, or if it was solely because he enjoyed your company and that was it. Both had lived enough to know there was a feeling in the middle. It wasn’t just friends with benefits, or co-workers who sleep together three times a week. Something was blooming deep inside you, but you tried to not give it a lot of attention all those years. Still, it felt like it had to be addressed sooner or later, and this could be the time. In the end, you understood each other perfectly. How painful it was, how living longer than anyone was, how you had to leave everything and everyone behind because you were dangerous…
“Have you ever wondered how’d it feel to have a normal life?” your question came out all of the sudden.
“How come?” He looked at you from the corner of his eye.
You didn’t know if his gaze was judging you but you continued anyway.
“Like living a normal amount of years… Not having these things, genes that make us different. Or special…”
Logan suddenly stopped in his tracks and grabbed your arm softly so you could lock eyes together as he asked. “You’re not thinking of getting that damn cure, aren’t you?”
“Of course not!”
“Then why’d you think that?”
“Because I never had anyone in my life, Logan,” you spat, pulling your arm away from his grip. “I’ve been alive for so long but I can’t promise myself a future. A real one. Not anything, it doesn’t matter if I live forever. Every person I loved before perished.”
Those words shook him out of the rough façade showing on his face. Your gaze told a hundred different stories when he studied your face every time. It was like mirroring himself at some point. You were the first person he ever got to know that has lived as long as he has, and maybe it was the sentimentalism, but he tried to push away those wishes of settling down. Of trying to be normal. Because he was not, and maybe, just maybe, you just didn’t accept it like he did. Probably, he was just giving up. But you weren’t, even after hundreds of years of disgrace continuously happening.
“I thought you’d get this, Logan.”
You mumbled, taking him out of his trance.
“Well, I do, in a way,” he said, but sounded more like an excuse for himself.
“Then why don’t you say it?”
“Wha-”
“Just say it,” you repeated and pointed between you and him. “What is this for you? What are we?”
Logan grabbed on your shoulders gently and leaned towards you, stealing a kiss on the sidewalk, a kiss you obliged with a bittersweet feeling for some reason, but then he whispered. “Darling, you’re everything to me now.”
Yet, you smiled and kissed him back, feeling his lips curve against your own. Well, that wasn’t so hard was it?
—
Needless to say, after the last date, your relationship with Logan had evolved to something more domestic, considering you lived together in your workplace. Affection, holding hands, quick kisses were shared now a little more freely, and you had received a couple of jokes and teases from some students and Storm. But it was fine as long as you had cleared your path with Logan, even if he didn’t act like a partner sometimes.
The certain calmness you felt one day disappeared when Logan and Ororo went to look for Scott, who often had these sad thoughts, and since Jean was his partner, it was thoroughly complicated for him to say the least. When Logan and Ororo came back to the mansion, it was not what you expected to see. Jean was alive and Scott was gone.
It hurted you, knowing first hand that their love wouldn’t be anymore. You met both of them when they were so young, becoming something like their mentor when they used to learn how to control their powers and how to fit in this world that loathed mutants to death. Now, the school was something else. It was a big, special place that was not the same without the brains of Jean, or the enthusiasm and leadership of Scott. Things were different, they had to change because the circumstances told so, and everyone had a difficult time adapting to it. One thing after another left you tired, with no option to run away, even if you wanted to. The complicated circumstances and the relationship you shared with Logan were no help either.
While on your way to check on Jean, who was still under observation after a couple of days, you stopped in your tracks when the heavy door of the med bay slid. Logan, looking all out of his daily self and mad, found you at the entrance, and you felt something different emanating from him.
For what you could see behind him, Jean was still asleep, and the Professor called Logan to come back with a serious voice, but he ignored the older man, instead approaching you.
“You knew, didn’t you?” Logan grasped your arm, his tone lower and deeper than usual.
You quickly pulled off his grip and hissed. “What are you talking about?”
“Jean.”
You felt silent. Of course she was anything he could think of since they found her.
“You knew he was controlling her,” Logan went on and your heart skipped a beat.
The look in your eyes told everything but lies. Logan scoffed and walked away, leaving you standing alone under Professor Xavier’s gaze.
“I’ll talk to him,” you mumbled at your mentor before following Logan, trying to keep his pace until he reached his room.
The whole way you tried to keep it professional, greeting students as normally you would, but when you crossed his door it was impossible to continue with the facade.
“Logan-”
“He’s insane,” he snapped, putting his jacket on and taking his bag out.
“Everything that was done was meant to protect her,” you responded calmly as he placed a handful of clothes inside the bag.
“No, you did it because you are disgusting. I bet this is what should’ve been for me if I refused to cooperate with your circus or something.”
“You don’t know what she is capable of-”
“Yeah, well I don’t wanna hear it anymore. This is so fucked up, even for you,” he continued, bag on his hand taking long strides until you were almost touching noses.
You scoffed, trying to laugh at the irony. “What does that even mean? Do you know how horrible it is to be controlled by the Phoenix inside her?.”
Logan rolled his eyes, not wanting to hear another poor excuse. You continued anyway, looking straight in his eyes before he could leave you hanging with your own words. Exactly like he used to do every damn time when you had an argument. Today, he wouldn’t run away that fast.
“She could kill you in a second and won’t hesitate. For her, we’re nothing. We’re not rivals, we can’t do shit. The only thing we could do was keep her alter ego somewhere hiding inside her mind, or else we wouldn’t be here arguing about something you never witnessed. Because I did and you don’t wanna see that, trust me,” you spat at him. He breathed rage at your words and you knew that it was getting on his nerves seeing the way his hands turned to fists. “And you think this version of her cares for you? Or that she loves you? Jean is gone now, Logan, fucking get over it.”
With last harsh words, you turned around and left the room, closing the door with a thud.
Logan breathed out. He wanted to scream, hit something, run away… Anything to let it out. He was a reckless mess but how could he react and accept Charles was playing with Jean’s mind? And you fucking knew all this time and didn’t say anything? Were his feelings dirty on him right now? Probably. Shit, he took years to finally tell you the truth about his love and affection towards you. He spent months trying to find the right words just to say ‘I love you’, and still, it seemed it wasn’t enough. The forbidden love he felt for Jean never disappeared, and he felt guilty for it.
—
You walked down to the med bay after calming down for a bit. You only needed to check on Jean for a moment and see how she was doing. Years prior, you had witnessed what the Phoenix was capable of, so you didn’t really question Charles’ methods when it came to hide this dangerous side of her inside her mind. You also thought your words might have been a little harsh on Logan, but it was the truth. He didn’t know who the Phoenix was and, if his feelings for Jean resurfaced after believing her being dead, then it wasn’t on you. As much as you loved him, as much as you tried and somehow managed to move on together, he was so easily dragged to her.
The anger you felt before took over you once again, as you found the metal doors of the lab in debris. Quickly, you made your way inside the room and found Jean wasn’t there and that Logan was lying unconscious on the floor. You knelt down by his side, calling him over and over and touching his face and shaking his shoulders until he finally opened his eyes slowly, coming back to reality.
“Logan, what happened?”
“She… she killed Scott. The Phoenix,” he whispered. You could tell he was a little weak and out of breath.
“You’re lucky she just ran away,” you pointed out, helping him to sit down. His eyes were lost in the mess in the room. Tools were destroyed, test tubes broken, crystal was everywhere, and Jean left the reminder of kissing him, yet again, before she escaped. God, he felt so idiotic.
“I’m sorry,” Logan said, looking at you. “Sorry for being a jerk. It’s my fault.”
Taking his cheeks between your hands, you gave him a reassuring look. “We’re gonna find her, okay?”
He nodded. “Yeah, we’ll find her.”
“Come here, we need to alert Charles,” you said, helping him to stand up.
Inside, you knew he wouldn’t really need your help. He was strong and indestructible like the metal on his skull, but he seemed really taken back, and you decided to stay by his side, holding his hand strongly as a way to say sorry as well. It was kind of difficult to see Logan in that state of mind, confused and lost, and you wondered what had happened back there in the lab as you left him in his bedroom, ordering him to rest for a while.
“I’ll be right back,” you assured him with loving eyes.
Logan nodded, following your figure stepping out the room and disappearing in the hallway.
He let out a breath he didn’t know was holding. His mind was having a hard time and his heart felt like breaking, going in two opposite directions, and he hated himself for that. His fate was always the same: losing people he loved and cared for dearly. So seeing Jean back again was as if god or anything up there remembered he existed and brought her back just for him. Or maybe he was just being selfish because he already had you.
You were everything for him. A couple of years might be just a short glimpse for both of you, but he was able to feel peace and calm next to you, and he was sure you did as well. Because some nights, that was all you could talk about. Logan didn’t mind hearing you for hours, it reminded him he was alive. With you, but his stupid instinct had to act.
It was his fault Jean had left. The kiss, the whole act of embracing each other’s bodies for at least two minutes, and then her breakdown, begging for him to kill her… All of that was enough to bring out the beast inside her. And he felt such a jerk now for following his desires. He already had you. Wasn’t that enough?
His thoughts were interrupted once you arrived again, finding him sitting at the end of the bed exactly as you had left him there. Sensing something different on him, you sat down by his side and rubbed his hand gently.
“We might know where she’s going,” you whispered.
“I’ll go,” Logan said before you could finish.
“I’m not sure if I should ask, but are you okay? You could do some rest,” you suggested, since seeing the redhead was clearly getting some kind of reaction from him.
“No, I need to go,” he said. But Logan could read your face perfectly, and he knew you didn’t really like the idea of him leaving the mansion. You turned your eyes, scanning the room and avoiding his gaze.
You had the need to ask what exactly had happened back there with Jean, but you didn’t want to start a fight either. Feeling Logan’s hand on your shoulder, he leaned to kiss your forehead goodbye. Maybe you were the one who should stay, check the kids, the school…
“It’ll be fine,” he mumbled, voice low and deep, as if trying to convince you, but himself as well. You nodded with your arms around his neck, giving him a hug that felt like some sort of apology you weren’t able to say out loud. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”
And how you’d wish things would be fine.
—
The school has been very quiet lately. Too silent even for his taste. At nights like these, he could still feel the vigor and presence of the students running around, grabbing something to eat, planning to go out for a while... Instead, Logan found himself in a place that was mourning. Grieving the loss of Jean, Scott and Charles.
The feelings inside were complicated. He didn’t really feel the same, and the disgrace and remorse of his actions were growing on him. They were still haunting him; every day, every single night. You knew it too. It was impossible to ignore the nightmares each time he woke up from seeing Jean’s lifeless body fall against his own after he gave what she wished for the most: death.
And then, there was you. He noticed how difficult it was getting for you to sleep. You tried to hide your sorrow into your work, studying even more, keeping yourself busy with the school and not thinking about anything else. Since Charles was gone, Ororo took his place and you were her second hand. But you pushed yourself too hard.
Tonight he found your bedroom empty. He didn’t find you on his either, so he went to the place he knew you would be: your classroom. The door was half opened, the dim light of the lamp on your desk barely illuminated the papers on the surface. He found you deeply concentrated reading on something, hands on the sides of your head hiding your face.
“Hey,” he softly mumbled, stepping inside the empty classroom.
You quickly straightened yourself on the chair, wiping your cheeks and tried to look decent for a moment.
“Hey,” you replied back, low voice.
“Come to bed,” he said, coming to stand before you, his hand on your shoulder comforting and soothing you, making its way to the side of your neck. His big palm on your cheek, caressing the skin stained with your tears as if it was the most delicate thing. He took a look at the mess of papers and old books you loved too much to get rid of, scattered on the wooden surface.
“No, I- I can’t. Need to finish these by tomorrow…”
Logan gave you a nod and a grimace before taking your hand, motioning to come closer. You stood up, knowing he was trying to get you out of the work that was consuming you.
He observed every feature on your face, the sadness in your stare couldn’t be hidden. He just knew you too well, just like the palm of his hand, and he wanted to make you forget. At least for a little. You had taken care of him, helped him with your presence and your unique aura, bringing him comfort and peace to his broken mind. He wanted you to be fine. To feel loved.
Logan leaned just exactly to brush his lips with your own, teasing a kiss that he longed too much, his hands around your waist pulling you towards him.
“Can you just let me take care of you?”
Swallowing hard the knot on your throat, you curled your lips as much as the grief let you. “Yes,” you nodded.
With this, Logan leaned until your lips connected. Your arms around his neck pulled him as closer as you could get, feeling his chest against your own, his strong hands around your waist, softly touching you above your clothes.
Logan slowly walked you until your back hit the desk, hands roaming on your ass down to your legs, placing you to sit down over the loose pages. It might ruin the work a little, but none of you cared. Everything in your head was him, between your legs, running his wet mouth down your jaw, his stubble burning your skin as you gasped gently. Lying on your back on the desk, he began descending down your breasts, unbuttoning your blouse until he exposed you to the cold of the room.
He stopped right on your trousers, and gave you a quick glance. You were so eager, wet already. He could sense it. Your eyes were glowing and you were already trying to catch your breath by just his kisses and touch.
“You locked the door?” you whispered.
“Damn right I did,” he voiced, hoarse and low voice from just thinking of railing you right there and then.
“Then don’t stop.”
At your command, he unzipped your trousers, letting them fall down along with your heels on the floor. He then leaned to take your lips in a sloppy kiss, more urgent this time of feeling you close. You moaned, nails scratching his skin. His calloused hands explored your bare legs and things, creating friction with his hips with slow, controlled thrusts against your crotch. Logan left a trail of kisses down to your breasts, licking and tasting the saltiness of your body.
You urged him to go down where you ached the most, hand tangling on his hair. His hands grabbed the back of your thighs, spreading to him until his nose was almost buried on your panties, smelling and taking the sweetness of your scent, licking softly with his wet tongue over the fabric. A trail of moans and curses left your lips. He pulled your panties aside before diving in your pussy, licking your folds and teasing your hole with two of his fingers.
“Logan…”
His name repeatedly left your mouth like a plea, his fingers now inside you, stretching your walls for him. The noises grew obscene and nasty as he ate you out like a sweet craving he had been denying himself the pleasure for so long.
He was growing hard just by hearing your whimpers, and he needed you. You always were a fucking longing for him. Your words, your intelligence, your beauty… Everything he needed, you had it. And still, he didn’t have any idea of how such a rational, smart woman like you learned to love him so deeply.
You tugged on his hair, hips thrusting up to meet his growling mouth. You were so close, felt almost there where you wanted, but he pulled away before you finished.
Logan unzipped his jeans leaning back, admiring your blissed out eyes and glistened figure.
“Come here,” you begged in a whisper, tangling your legs around his waist.
He let out a low, dirty chuckle, feeling your hands on his boxers, freeing his erection.
“So fucking eager,” Logan breathed kissing your lips, hands supporting his weight at the sides of your head on the desk.
You tasted yourself within the kiss and you moaned at his words, your hand pumped him just enough to feel his pre cum leaking already, lining his dick with your cunt. Inch by inch, he entered slowly so you could get used to his size. Logan pecked your lips gently, kissing your cheeks and the side of your neck to get into your sensitive skin. You tugged on his white shirt so he could remove it and he ripped your bra apart right after. He loved to feel your chest pressed against his own. You gasped but paid no mind, instead urging him to move inside you.
“Shit, Logan please-”
A particular harsh trust caught your breath on your throat. You held onto dear life with your hands on his shoulders. He pounded into you rock hard and deep. So damn deep the desk was shrieking under, papers fell off and the lamp moved at the same rhythm but you hoped it won’t break.
Logan growled, inhaling your scent and tasting the sweat forming on your collarbone, your breasts bouncing against his chest. He felt your nails trailing down his back, and oh, how he wished he could get damn scars on just by fucking you like this. But the view of you, squirming under him, eyes closed, being a whimpering mess… All because of him. He was so insanely in love with your fucked out expression every time.
Your walls clenched, close to the sweet end. Logan felt himself twitching inside your warm pussy and his thrusts were getting erratic and sloppy. He filled you up, reaching his own climax first, hot white ropes of cum painting your insides. Your pussy milked him all the way as he kept spliting you open until you let yourself go, legs trembling around his waist.
For a moment, you stayed like this, with him kissing your shoulder and caressing your thigh, taking in the aftermath of your intense lovemaking.
“Thank you…”
Your whisper forced him to look up at you. There it was, that loving, sweet gaze you had reserved just for him.
He nodded, palm on your jaw holding you gently. “Of course…”
For some reason, he wanted to voice out for once those stupid three words.
I love you.
Or at least hoped you would do it first.
—
The night was cold under the moonlight, almost freezing. He wondered how he got trapped there, between the messy, withered shrubbery, fog, and the trees of a forest he never recalled knowing. He was alert, senses to the limit in case something might attack him. He felt as if he was being watched, but there were no eyes he could find around. He couldn’t see much like that.
But then a voice started to call his name from afar, claws coming out immediately as he sharpened his senses to find the owner. One, two, three times he heard, trying to find the person who was calling but there was only darkness. His heart skipped a beat when someone spoke behind him.
“Logan…”
He turned on his feet and he felt like dying again. “Jean?”
He withdrew his claws back immediately. The redhead smiled, coming closer until she touched his cheek with a soft hand before pulling away. “How are you, Logan?”
“What-”
“Are you happy now?” she asked, beaming brightly as if they were in a casual conversation instead of the darkness of the woods.
His brows furrowed. She couldn’t be real. She wasn’t there with him. Jean was gone, he had killed her because it was what she wanted. It was her way out to get what she needed; it was the key to her freedom…
“What do you mean?”
“With her… Be careful. You could kill her. Just like me,” Jean whispered, tears forming in her eyes.
Logan stepped back, trying to get away. He shook his head in disbelief, not knowing exactly why Jean was saying this to him.
“No… You’re not real…”
“Everything you love is destined to death and chaos, Logan. You shouldn’t be there,” Jean continued, her eyes switching from her usual tone to a deep black. The ground began trembling under their feet with each step of her, wind building up around. Logan felt truly scared, but somehow he couldn’t run, just stand there as she approached. “All she will know is a life of suffering if you stay. She doesn’t need that.”
“Jean-”
“She doesn’t need you!”
“Jean!”
And then it happened so fast. His claws buried on her chest, the Phoenix disappearing and leaving her to die. Jean collapsed against his body and Logan reminisced about the events of that battle, where he had to choose to be selfish or liberate her from her own demons. Logan wasn’t sure why he stabbed her like this. And when he thought Jean was dead in his arms, she started to call his name again. This time, he heard it far away.
Logan.
Logan.
Logan…
Logan!
His eyes went wide open. And there you were, by his side on the bed, calling for him with a pain grimace on your face. His claws buried on your stomach.
“Logan…” you gasped and he pulled the claws out, but you were already bleeding, your nightshirt and the mattress stained.
“Shit, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry- I-”
“It’s okay,” you managed to say as he caressed your cheek before taking you in his arms hurriedly and quickly made the way out of your room through the halls. “The nightmares… I know, Logan…”
“God, I’m so sorry, please forgive me. Hank!” Logan stood outside the scientist’s door. “Hank, I need your help!”
The commotion caused some of the students to peek from their doors, and Logan waited outside what he felt it was forever under the gazes of the teenagers. It wasn’t the first time he had caused the same accident. The door opened, finally revealing a sleepy Hank putting his glasses on.
There was no need to explain what had happened.
—
“She’ll be stable soon,” Hank informed once he let Logan inside the med bay. “If you hadn’t brought her soon…”
Logan swallowed the knot on his throat, watching your unconscious figure on the stretcher. You already had received blood to cover up what you lost because of the wounds, and Logan’s claws were not minor weapons. His mind was a mess, confusion taking over. He didn’t know how he let this happen. He had nightmares pretty often, yes, but nothing like this.
Maybe Jean was right. Maybe she was trying to warn him about something. Or Jean was just trying to protect you from him. The last one felt more realistic. Logan wouldn’t hurt you, not ever. You talked about how dangerous it was to sleep together not so long ago, but you had insisted on staying. It was the first time something felt so damn real in his dreams and he wished you wouldn’t let him in your room that night…
“She’ll wake up, right?” Logan asked.
“Absolutely,” Hank nodded. “I will need to monitor her vital signs though, hopefully within a day or two she will be normal again… At least she’ll be stable until the wounds heal completely.”
Of course, Logan thought. You didn’t have a healing factor just like him.
“I’ll be right back,” Hank announced before stepping out of the room, leaving Logan alone.
He felt so guilty for doing this to you. For everything. For being the cause of your suffering now. He was a threat and mentally unstable. He was strong thanks to his genes, but he was weak on the inside. He promised countless times to protect you, but he couldn’t avoid hurting you himself. It didn’t matter that it was a very bad dream that felt disgustingly real, he had failed and hurted someone who truly loved. Again.
Taking your hand gently into his, he leaned to plant a kiss on your forehead, wishing it would be just another game from his mind.
But it wasn’t. Now, he had the person he loved the most lying unconscious and hurted because he would let his darkest thoughts consume him.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, watching you sleep peacefully. “I should have said it sooner.”
-
PART TWO
#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x you#logan howlett x female reader#wolverine smut#logan howlett smut#logan howlett angst#logan howlett fanfiction#wolverine angst#james logan howlett#x men fanfiction#wolverine fanfiction#hugh jackman fanfiction#hugh jackman wolverine
328 notes
·
View notes
Note
Any starting resources for someone looking to get into Transformers?
I can’t speak for everyone but if I could time travel this is the list I would give to past me
1 - Transformers Prime. (Great series + basic lore/terms/names introduction for the new fans )
2 - Transformers : More than meets the eye + Transformers : Lost Light (IDW) (Infinitely dramatic gay clownery. Such a gem. 10/10. You need to have at least basic understanding of tf lore and terminology though. This is why I recommend watching “Transformers Prime” first)
3 - You probably have some of those robits as yours favorites at this point. Type “IDW insert name” into google or youtube to find out where to look for more comics with them. Use this image to navigate the timeline chronology so you always know what happens after what. (Don’t try to read everything on that list from the very start in chronological order - you will die of boredom)
4 - Transformers Animated (This series has it’s own version of tf lore that might cause a lot of confusion if you try to read IDW comics after watching it without being already familiar with the basics. That’s what happened to me lmao There’s a lot of primes instead of just one Prime. And Bots and Cons are kind of like two different species or something.)
5 - Transformers Earthspark ( Very good series but you need to have a lot of prior knowledge to fully understand its themes. It’s writers did a great job at showing how much their characters have changed but absolutely forgot to show what they were like before they changed. This is why you need to read comics or watch the other shows first. Earthspark Megatron is redeemed villain but they didn’t show him being a villain. Earthspark Starscream is traumatised but they didn’t fucking show what exactly happened to him, they just expect you to already know. I could write an essay about this lol I need to stop)
6 - Transformers 1986 animated movie. For some reason I really love it. (The reason is Roddy who am I kidding) Maybe also Prime wars trilogy? Cyberverse? Transformers G1? Poke at everything. Have fun.
#maccadam#how tf do I tag this?#idk#the guide for new fans#??#or smth#the guide for me in case I have an amnesia#yea that’s more accura lol
430 notes
·
View notes
Note
Is it weird that I don't feel excited for the Deadpool and Wolverine movie?
I feel like X-Men 97 already scratched that X-Men itch and obsession in my head. Plus I feel satisfied with artists like you making Wolverine polycule fanart and fancomics.
Is something wrong with my head???
I think your feelings are valid cause you don't need to watch something else if you already feel satisfied. I am hype for that movie because I enjoyed the first two Deadpool movies. I am not expecting to fall in love of Logan there, or the other x-men we might see. I am expecting to watch a ridiculous movie with silly jokes and funny action scenes. I am hoping Scott will have a cameo but I think it won't happen. I've never been a super fan of Logan movies. He is fun and interesting (plus the actor is very handsome so my eyes are always happy when he is on screen), but his big lone wolf energy was a bit too much for me. Maybe he is too handsome and awesome and in the animated serie, he is a grumpy short king who has a lot to say and his lone wolf personnality seems more understandable to me. I really enjoy how unhinged he is in the 92 show and how he was in 97. It satisfies me a lot. I think you can take whatever please you in any adaptation and play around that. You don't need to enjoy every new adaptation from a franchise you like. There are some X-men comics where I find Scott really boring and not interesting at all. I enjoy very specifics things about him and therefore it makes me very picky about how he is portrayed. I still think I am a fan. I am a picky fan, but a fan regardless. Even if I mostly know the animated shows. I am tired of that childish fight "Oh I am a better fan cause I read the comics!" it is not a competition lmao! Enjoy whatever you want!! I personnaly read the comics cause I want more Scott content. That's my personnal reason. I want to know everything about him haha! I think we are many to be tired of the Jean/Scott/Logan drama ( where they are rivals instead of lovers) cause that rivality, usually, has a layer of misogyny and sexism. Jean is the prize and the 2 males love interests can't think straight and have to claim her. As if Jean has no choice but to accept the one who fight the hardest. I'm sorry but that is really stupid, and not how feelings work imo. That kind of relationship is based on something so weak, it will break at the first issue they would meet . I personnaly find that kind of writting insulting for every character involved, and it breaks the sincerity and depth of the romance. It removes all kind of feelings, character development and personnalities. It makes them so immature too. The polycule road on the other hand shows they could build something different. They could break the rules and be free to make their own. And as mutants, they don't care about humans society stupid rules. The can write what works for them and gain maturity over their relationship and sexuality. I am not saying every couples have to become a polycule to be mature. But for Scott, Jean and Logan it seems like a better fit for them. They can still act silly and fight over randoms things, but removing that very unhealthy incomplete love triangle and make it an actual love triangle, where each individual have romantic feelings for each other is better for them imo.
404 notes
·
View notes
Text
The fathers of Rome
Marcus/Geta/Caracalla x wife!reader
warning : fluff, comfort, crying, kissing a bit emotional, birth, family issues, written before the movie came out characters may be different
Summary : Two Emperors and the general of the army all had important duties and responsibilities but by the grace of the gods and with devotion of love the three most influential men find themselves with the news of a pregnant wife. Each of them has a slightly different approach to taking care of his pregnant wife and the birth, because a birth could always go wrong and the gods were rarely merciful.
info : I wanted to write something sweet for the three of them and I know that they could be good fathers (if you romanticize a little bit) now have fun reading and have a nice day.
masterlist
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Marcus Acacius
It was thought that the battlefield was his home and the sword was his wife but few knew that in a vast field of olive trees and wheat fields stood a large villa in which a woman lived with a small household and prayed between her altars to the gods that her beloved husband would return home safely.
A story of a leader of the army of Rome and his wife a former oracle who met him, foretold him his future yet his eyes, his voice and his being would not depart from her own prophecies.
An initial love of safety in times of peace, she appreciated his protective nature in a world that belonged almost entirely to Rome, danger still lurked everywhere. He, in turn, was captured by her grace and care, this devotion to those in need or to himself when she waited on him to heal his wounds and the two felt safe and complete together.
A husband who rushed home on horseback so fast he rode to her from the support posts when the emperors called him back the sleep was won she saw the shadow on the horizon from the balcony and even mounted her horse to meet him, ,,My heart" he embraced her each time still seeing the dirt and emaciation on him after being away for months sometimes years.
His hands closed around her, an embrace, a heartfelt kiss, tears in her eyes when she finally saw him again before they rode back to the villa together, she helped him bathe and wash her before he pulled her into the water himself, not wanting to leave her side and unable to do so for too long, he had missed her, not only her lovely eyes, her voice that he loved to listen to, her hair that he ran through and her hands that he clasped every time he wanted to be close to her but couldn't in public.
But with such intimacy comes love and with love comes desire, desire for each other, desire for each other's bodies and this desire was pursued many nights and on some bright days they were also close until he had to leave again, for the next raid not knowing that only two months after he was gone he received a letter with scrawled writing full of excitement.
A letter that moved him to tears when he read it for the first time, ,,I'm going…to be a father" he mumbled to himself in his tent above and above he realized that love for each other would grow into a life, a little baby that would look like both of them and a big smile stayed on his lips as he hurriedly wrote back to her expressing his joy and his heart, how excited he was himself, how proud he was of her and how much he loved her and praying to the gods that the battle would be won quickly.
The letters changed from weekly to daily as her pregnancy progressed and he received drawings of what she looked like, along with dried flowers she was growing that were made into tea and tinctures to help her body.
The couple were happy with words, kisses seemed to spread across the infinity and she was sent a piece of clothing by Marcus and remembered that he would return to her and their child.
Everything went well until he received the letter that she would go into labor in the next few days, the war took longer than expected, but it was the first and only time he gave his sergeant the lead and started the journey back on his own responsibility, which would take several days, but he had to go to her the fear and worry that something could go wrong that he would lose her or that the child was not healthy.
Fear and worry clutched at his heart as he drove his horse faster and faster as fast as he could back home where he burst through the front door and heard the screams of pain that scared him to death calling her name, he hurried up the stairs to the shared bedroom where he found her crouching by the bed, apparently lying down would lead to complications.
,,Love I'm-I'm here everything will be fine" he murmured hastily pressing kisses on her hand which she immediately grasped painfully and screamed again as she tried to get their child out of her, he could still see the love for him in her tear-stained eyes on her sweat-smeared body they were both covered in blood from the death of the battlefield and the birth of new life as she continued to push and the midwife helped her too.
She screamed out his name her pain and Marcus became more and more afraid of losing her with every pain she had as she continued to hold her giving her courage and hope when his own hands trembled as he heard the ,,I can see the head my lady keep pushing" from the midwife who did everything she could to make the birth as easy as possible.
,,You can do it my heart I'm here push again" he whispered to her as she looked at him in pain he saw the fear and yet the deniability that he was with her before she let out one last scream and he heard a bright scream next to blood splattering on the floor, a bright scream that echoed and seemed never to stop.
,,Congratulations, a healthy baby boy!" the older woman announced, dabbing the newborn baby lightly before wrapping him in linen so he could be held better, while Marcus helped his wife back onto the bed, covering her lightly and giving her a long kiss, ,,I am so very proud my darling," he whispered placing a kiss on her head, before taking his son in his arms, those light, dark hairs on the delicate head belonging to him but the pretty eyes were hers.
His eyes filled with tears of pride and reassurance as he stroked his son and gave her the little bundle she clutched, ,,A piece of love from both of us," she uttered, crying with happiness as she looked into her son's curious face and he chuckled at her as the two parents spent the next few hours together on the bed with pure happiness as the little baby went from laughing with gurgling laughter, to crying and finally falling asleep exhausted in the equally exhausted arms of his parents.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Emperor Geta
The younger but stronger emperor of Rome, the warrior and leader who did not subordinate himself and enjoyed the Coloseum. A young man whose golden lure was not the only thing that seemed to be gold, he bought and made whatever he wanted, be it new armor, a sword, an army or even slaves that he could kill or do anything else with.
But in his life, his only blood besides his older brother Caracalla, there was only one marriage predestined by his father that he should marry her.
Pretty, coming from wealth and power but not a woman he had chosen, it was like fate, his father had decided like a god on the life of his son but it had been like that for some time now and as much as the couple was celebrated in public, the false smiles and hand-holding of the inner circle was seen through, they were both torn.
As much as they tried to understand each other and she appreciated his gift of attention to Rome, as much as he thought she was pretty and appreciated her patience as a true virtue, they never seemed to be in the same mood. There never seemed to have been a thread of fate.
,,Can love ever arise from a loveless duty?" she had once asked him when he wanted to retire in the evenings, avoiding her to occupy himself with his important things that his older brother wasn't interested in and always finding an excuse to avoid her.
She saw the guilt disappear from his eyes in the blink of an eye, saw him straighten the rings on his fingers before he replied with a ,,Love comes from the heart… a duty from the words of others" before he left her room and avoided her for another night, a night that followed one after the other until one day they attended his brother's wedding, Caracalla also married a highborn woman and gave the Roman Empire its first heir, as it should be - it was all just a matter of time.
A fact that Geta also knew, even if with a smile his bright eyes wished nothing but death for his sister-in-law, a plague that she and his brother would have to endure,
,,I want to see you in my chamber after the feast and that is not a question" he murmured to his wife who looked at him with an uneasy look, she had seen the looks, knew what was going on in her husband and yet in a horrible fate she felt the duty in her heart she had to bear him an heir.
The festivities dragged on for a long time, but with wine that overwhelmed her senses she distracted herself from what was going to happen, what he was going to do just because his place in the order of precedence would be changed, she followed his words, made a simple excuse and retired to her husband's room.
She had also heard the wine on his lips as that night began with a kiss, senses dazed by wine and yet there was still a kind of tenderness in his touch despite his hatred, she still held him close to her heart, something she clung to as hope.
A hope and love a lust she would not have expected from him overcame the nights of nights she saw for the first time his jealousy coupled with love,.
,,I know you are trying my love" he told her again and again his hand placed on her tree day after day she seemed to realize if she was pregnant until the day one of the midwives and his healer confirmed she was pregnant and a few tests brought the uncertainty to an end.
She still couldn't believe it was true, she felt his arms around her body and words of praise but double-edged words coming at her as Geta looked at her with a look that told her he had never felt more love for her than now, ,,My Empress pregnant with my heir" he murmured and immediately let the news spread everywhere rubbing it straight into the face of his brother and especially his sister-in-law who was not yet pregnant.
The time after that was filled with happiness and yet paranoia, he was only more attached to her, paying attention to everything and having the room for the child decorated with her taste, choosing the furniture and the colors, ,,The room of the future emperor," he announced to her as she leaned on him and saw the room with pictures of heroic deeds and old legends showing victories.
,,A truly impressive room," she admitted and felt her hands relax on her now round belly as time passed, the moons and suns came quickly and her pregnancy increased, the closer she got to the birth the more excited Geta seemed to become, insisting on being present the whole time…an insistence she kept, only a few moons later her contractions came and the palace was filled with screams and weeping.
Geta shouted at the midwives and healers to kill them all or he would kill them personally while he supported his wife with words and did not flinch when her bloodied hand reached for him, ,,You are doing very well I am with you dear, with our son you will make it" he told her again and again kissing her forehead and giving her hopeful kisses until he shouted more death threats until the news came that it was almost done.
The last screams were full of pain and she clung to him even more, the pain increasing with the thought that had plagued her for months and her heart stopped when she heard the voice of the midwife saying ,,My emperor it's a…girl" and the room slowly fell silent, only the shrill cry of the baby could be heard, a baby without the right sex, a girl no heir.
Her heavy breathing and the tears rolling down her cheeks as he pulled away from her with a jerk, she was supported by her midwives who helped her onto the bed and took care of her as best they could while she watched Geta take her daughter in his arms and turn his back on her, not seeing how he looked with this "disappointing" birth.
,,Everyone out now!" he shouted making the little baby cry again and yet everyone complied, ,,Geta I'm-I'm sorry" she started trying to get to him when she heard a sniffle and paused, at first she thought it was the baby but it giggled and a clearing of the throat was heard before he turned to her.
Her worry vanished when she saw his expression it was pride, it was appreciation it was happiness, ,,The future of the empire an empress from the love of her parents…she will become a goddess" he murmured and came to his wife in bed put the baby in her arms and gave the little girl a kiss on the head while he held his wife's hand and gently stroked it.
He was not disappointed he had gotten something so much better, he had gotten love and a wife who was everything to him a family of his own the only imperial family of ancient Rome.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Emperor Caracalla
The elder son, the first emperor to rule with his younger but much more suitable brother, a pair of brothers who ruled together and brought Rome to the top of the world with its army and its strength, but above all a young man with a woman at his side.
A woman, the Empress of Rome, beautiful, handsome and caring, popular with the people and not underestimated in politics because of her own country of origin and family…but a young woman without children.
A woman without children from an age when she would not be empress she would take other jobs nor have a choice but an empress was not a politician, a warrior or even a farmer an empress was and should always be a mother first so it has always been but not with her.
The wedding was moons ago and even if it was a little difficult at first their hearts were close she loved her playful husband who was always loving to her and had a penchant for entertainment of any kind.
As long as Carcalla wasn't bored, he knew that his brother was concerned with everything else, including politics, for which he had little taste when it wasn't a matter of attack or execution, she could only entertain him by acting, playing or playing in the arena, and as much as they both enjoyed it, she became more unhappy.
,,Your smile is fading, don't you like it? I can hire a new actor or buy new slaves right away," the blonde immediately offered and waved the troupe out so he could talk to his wife who had been laughing all evening, her hand detached from her belly and handed him the parchment he had skimmed over in the morning.
A parchment with the emperor's seal, a message from his brother that Geta had taken a wife of his own on a state visit, ,,The betrothal and wedding, what's with that, starlet?" he asked, tossing the paper carelessly aside before rising and going to the table of fruit and helping himself to the grapes.
He didn't understand the seriousness, the worry or even what it meant for the future, not that they hadn't slept together often, the wedding night had been consummated and they had often shared the bed but it had never led to anything, she rose from her chair and went to him, taking his hand and seeking his gaze.
,,Cara. ..you're still the older one, a duty is on me and I don't know if I can ever give you…an heir" she said the lump in her throat almost cutting off her voice hoping he would understand.
She saw the humor fade from his face and he considered before he gave an almost stunned expression and grabbed both her hands hastily, squeezing them and locking them in a hasty kiss over and over until she broke away to catch her breath, ,,Please I-it may well be me…all this he may be the politician but I am the elder, the first and you do your duty every day you are with me.
,,I leave no room for doubt, do you understand?" he demanded and she found his hopefulness, confidence and euphoria truly inspiring that a small smile crept onto her lips before he took her in his arms the imperial couple found themselves together again that night, taking help from potions, tinctures and many other forbidden practices that they hardly left the bedchamber together for the next few days.
It was clear to everyone what was happening behind the closed doors but after trying and trying this hope was to pay off with her first discomfort and the first change, ,,Congratulations my Emperor you are finally pregnant" the healer announced as he listened to the results of the test and her report, her tears wetting the tunic of her husband who hugged her and twirled around and was all the more pleased.
The news also pleased the people and even when she saw the looks on Geta's face and his wife she knew she had done her duty she would give Rome an heir, she had not disappointed Caracalla, ,,You can never let me down everything will go well the gods are with us" he told her reading she put up stowage in the child's room and her own for the next moons so that she was protected and the child inside her.
The protection seemed to help Geta until a point, and everything seemed to go well until the day of the birth, when blood and tears covered the floor, ,,What's wrong with my wife?" Caracalla who was holding her hand on the bed but the dagger at his side seemed to slaughter anyone who did anything wrong.
He kissed her hands and fingers, tried to cool her forehead with cool cloths and tell her again that she was doing well, ,,It seems that the Empress is pregnant with twins," said one of the midwives who had already brought out the size of the belly and the prolonged birth.
It was news she needed to cry out and Caracalla was filled with joy which he only showed when she continued to scream and push with the help of Caracalla who got into a kneeling position and the moments of pain merged until the first child was pushed out, ,,A boy!" the midwife shouted and took care of the little creature while the younger one continued to hold on to her husband.
The blonde gave her a proud kiss on the head, ,,Do you hear that? Our son love you can do it I am here" he murmured over and over until another cry from her side and a second bright cry told them that it was done that night a boy and his sister were born, Caracalla proudly and happily held the little babies and immediately spoke to them while praising them over and over.
The little family was not only complete but was now a little conversation of their own for each other, they had brought themselves together through love and received two sweet little gifts because they believed that their love was stronger than anything else.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
@morallyinept
@parvanovel -> I konw pregnancy is one thing but it's fluff so have fun :)
@sweetpascal
#gladiator ii#gladiator 2#marcus acacius#marcus acacius x reader#emperor geta#emperor geta x reader#emperor caracalla#emperor caracalla x reader#reader is female#male x female
324 notes
·
View notes
Note
im a sucker for morning sex like, almost half asleep, barely talking, just quiet moans 😋Maybe friends to lovers
Ooh, yes!!! Absolutely love this concept😮💨
It’s a bit short, but I wrote this blurb around it just now. It’s currently 2am, but the inspiration struck and I just had to write it down!! (srry not srry😎😋) I hope it meets your expectations!!!
Thank you for requesting!!!💘
************************************************
Your eyelids softly flutter open at the warmth of the sunlight shining on your face. The harsh light makes you squint, and it makes you realize where you are, and with who. The arm wrapped around you confirmed enough, and you smile as you look at the inked arm draping over your frame.
You and Harry had been friends for forever, and you would hold movie nights almost every week. It often got very late, and the two of you would fall asleep in the couch.
Last night was no different. You had had a busy day at work, and was absolutely exhausted. You fell asleep mid movie, and you realize that Harry must’ve carried you to bed. You smile at that revelation, filled with a surge of love for your best friend.
In order to get the sunlight out of your face, you shift around, moving backwards a bit so your eyes aren’t being bothered by the harsh light. Your eyes widen when you feel something brush against your ass. Something that you are 99% sure you should absolutely not be feeling.
There is an increasing heat between your legs that you don’t even know the exact logistics of. It is like your body is telling you something you haven’t dared to consider before.
You try to move your hips forward a bit, attempting to stop the awkwardness. After all, Harry’s asleep, so you can go back to sleep and act like this never happened on a couple of hours.
That’s when you feel Harry’s grip on your waist tightening as he pulls your body back into him, his hardness now firmly pressed between your ass cheeks. You softly gasp at the sudden motion, and your heat begins to ache at the imagination of what could be.
The sole image in your head of him putting that dick inside of you makes you subconsciously grind your hips against him a bit, hoping to relieve some of the frustration that has been starting to build.
You try to be subtle about it, but the pain of being untouched begins to be too unbearable. Your stomach tenses when Harry’s hand suddenly begins to inch lower and lower, going under the waist band of your underwear and shorts, and finding your clit.
Rubbing drawn out circles on your hot wet cunt makes you sigh out in relief. His touch feels far too good to even second guess what the fuck the two of you are doing. The hitched breaths slowly morph into hushed whimpers, the faster Harry’s fingers work your pussy.
When he starts to leave love bites on your neck, you explode. Moaning out his name, you come all over his fingers, letting the pleasure hit you in the waves like it always does.
Without another word, Harry pulls down your shorts and underwear, which you take off completely with the help of your own legs. Arching into him, you wait as Harry takes out his hard cock and rub the tip against your now soaking wet pussy.
“Y’sure?” Harry’s rough morning voice asks, and it is enough to almost have you orgasm again. The low baritone sound is the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. You nod furiously.
“Yes, please. I need it.” You plead with him. Harry clearly doesn’t need to be asked twice, because he immediately pushes himself into you. You mewl at his long, deep thrusts. Each one hits just the right spot in a new, unexpected way.
There aren’t many words shared between the two of you, solely the sounds of your bodies intertwining with each other. His hand finds one of your breasts and fondles it as you both keep pushing into each other.
You bring your own fingers to your clit, working yourself closer to the second orgasm that is already brewing. Just the sounds of his heavy breathing and the beating of his heart would give you that wave of your euphoria.
Then a groan escapes Harry’s lips, but not just a groan. No, he groans your name, right in your ear, followed by a whispered profanity, as he drives himself deeper into you.
Forget the breaths and the heartbeat, the sound of your name rolling off his tongue in a situation like this is what brings you over the edge so quickly again. Your walls clench around him repeatedly as you softly cry out his name.
“F- fuck… shit.” Harry sighs after his thrusts come to a halt. With his face buried in your neck, he softly bites into your shoulder as he comes inside of you.
The feeling of his seed coating every bit of your walls drives your mind absolutely insane.
Harry stays inside of you as you both catch your breath. You can quite literally hear the pounding of your heartbeat ringing in your ear, and you can’t help but let out a breathy chuckle. Harry joins you in your soft, short-lived laughter.
You turn your head towards him, and Harry leans up a bit to meet your face as well. With a big smile, he looks you right in the eyes. No hint of regret, only a smug grin and a clear desire to repeat.
“Good morning.” You say in a joking tone. Harry observes the rest of your face, and pushes a strand of hair behind your ears before he responds.
“Very good morning.”
#purplecoffee13#purplecoffee13request#harry styles#fanfic#writing#fanfiction#blurb#harry#one direction#smut#one shot#excerpt#harry styles smut one shot#harry styles smut#harry styles fluff#harry styles imagine#harryedwardstyles#harry styles one shot#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles fic#harry fanfic#harry edward styles#harry styles blurb
417 notes
·
View notes
Text
blood and glitter ➛ a sienna shaw x fem!reader oneshot
pairing(s): sienna shaw x fem!reader
summary: sienna shaw is an enigma with wings and a sword, destined. oh, she’s also your friend who you may or may not be a little in love with…
tags ~> fem!reader, fluff, smut, romance, friends to lovers, explicit sexual content, explicit language, no mentions of art the clown/any deaths, not really canon tbh, semi-public sex, cunnilingus, fingering, scissoring, praise kink, d/s undertones, gay panic, awkward romance
warnings!: nsfw, pretty graphic smut, explicit language
word count: 11.3k+
a/n: this is my first ever time posting any writing of mine on here so i hope you all enjoy, i’m also going to be posting this to ao3 if you guys ever read stuff on there :) i’m currently experiencing terrifier 3 brain rot especially because of sienna so i need to write this to get it out of my system cus DAMN.
i've tried to make the reader's character not super specfiic as to be as inclusive as possible - the only things described physically is that the reader has female anatomy
The steps that led up towards Sienna’s bedroom looked a little menacing as you stood at their bottom. It felt like you were about to enter a whole other private world you previously had never had access to. The situation was strange, not strange in nature, but because of the fact that although you and the other girl had been friends for months, you still had yet to step foot inside her bedroom.
You had been to her house before, especially when Allie and Brooke wanted to hang out too but had never been in her bedroom. The upstairs of her house was uncharted territory.
But it was normal right? It was completely normal, you were just a friend visiting another friend’s house, about to enter their bedroom so the two of you could get ready for a Halloween party. Every teen movie had this exact moment of calm where the characters could have dialogue and bond a little before moving onto the last big final act.
Sienna wasn’t just your friend though, to you she was something more. You didn’t want to just be her friend.
You had known she was special ever since she had waved you over one near summer afternoon to her lunch table and had complimented you on the iron-on patches that were littered across your jacket. The two young women sitting with her had looked a little confused when she started rambling on about Daft Punk and French Police (the band, not the law enforcement), but you had understood.
Like a puzzle, you two had fit perfectly together, two pieces clicking into place.
At first the fluttery feeling that bombarded your stomach at the thought of her was mistaken as relief. Platonic affection, and slightly pathetic gratitude that finally you didn’t have to sit alone at lunch. That you would now have some people you actually knew.
But once the four of you had begun to hang out, even though you and Allie got close fast, and Brooke at least tolerated your presence, your ever-growing bond with Sienna was different.
That bond, the thing you had labelled as different, should’ve made it easy for you to climb the stairs and waltz into the bedroom like it was yours. Instead, it had your feet glued to the floor. Barbara, Sienna’s mother and the one who had let you in, finally noticed your hesitation.
The woman didn’t seem to find it strange, simply chuckling and gesturing for you to go up. “She is expecting you honey, don’t worry.”
Simply giving her a smile to try and seem relaxed only aided in making you look more nauseous. And to save yourself further embarrassment in the company of your new friend’s mom, you went upstairs. A few of the room doors were opened, but instantly looking within the second one you knew it was Sienna’s.
The room faintly glowed with dim lamp light, and the walls were covered in posters and pieces of art that were sure to have been done by the brunette herself. Every time you had the pleasure of being shown something she had created it always managed to take your breath away. You yourself weren’t exactly terrible when it came to a pencil and pad, but your talent laid more in academics than anything truly creative.
Sienna had actually offered to teach you how to draw one evening after you had caught a glimpse of her notepad; design sketches for costumes and makeup looks covering the pages. The temptation of spending more time with her outside of classes and lunch break had won you over. So far, with her help, you now knew how to draw something reminiscent of a detailed cat. Nothing Picasso-like, but it was a start.
One of the things on her wall that caught your eye was a neon white LED light in the shape of a skull. It showcased there was something a little morbid about the beauty of Sienna’s aesthetic too. Both of you had bonded over your love for all things morbid and you regularly had horror movie nights – sometimes with Allie and Brooke. Most of the time it was just the two of you though, the way you preferred it.
“Hey” the young woman had noticed you standing in the doorway and got off the bed to greet you.
Holy. Shit.
She had messaged you pictures of the costume she had created throughout the months, showing you the tiresome but fulfilling process of how it came to be. But none of them had been of her actually wearing it. You subtly tried to grab onto the doorframe, so you didn’t fall over flat on your face.
The Valkyrie armour your friend had adorned was a shiny bronze, and the intricate details of everything needed a few looks to really sink in. It wasn’t only the outfit itself that was making your heart palpitate; half of her hair was down, and the other half was sorted neatly into pretty braids.
The realisation she had actually made all this herself added another extra reason to your speechlessness – the main fact being though that she looked like something out of a fantasy nerd’s wet dream. But in a good way, definitely in a good way.
“Wow…” was all you could say, making her laugh and spin around so you could see the back of her costume. The two majestic wings sprouting out of her back seemed ironic then as you were almost sure she was an angel.
“What’d you think?” Sienna asked, turning back around so she could gauge your reaction. Not that there was much to analyse there though, you were still silent – but thankfully had managed to close your mouth. Running a hand through your hair you tried to find the words to express how ethereal she looked.
“It’s great, really great.” Way to go, loser.
Her face dropped just a little, did she think you were being insincere because your response was so short? Quite the opposite. You quickly scrambled to try and rectify your statement.
“No, like I really mean it. I-I mean the shoulder piece, the wings, it’s so detailed and pretty. And your makeup, I mean wow you look so…sparkly!” Although what you had just said embarrassed you even further, Sienna’s disappointed expression had been replaced with fondness and amusement.
“Yeah?” the cosplayer murmured, turning back to the mirror, and admiring herself for another moment. The truth was, she was extremely proud of how it had turned out, and your approval had meant a lot to her especially considering her mother’s likely disapproval when she saw what she’d be going out in. The weight of your opinion to Sienna was more than what was standard or acceptable for the average friend, even if she couldn't admit that.
You nodded. “Yeah.”
“I can’t wait to see your costume” she smiled, looking down at the backpack you had put down on the floor. The reality was setting in that you’d have to show her your costume.
Seriously, compared to Sienna’s costume, everyone else’s would be very much underwhelming – it was mean of her to assume everyone just was as talented as she was. The chic vampire look you were about to try to achieve would definitely not live up to standard, but you couldn’t spend the entire evening in her bedroom doorway.
“Can I get changed in your bathroom?”
Sienna’s head tilted a little in confusion at that, but realised you weren’t comfortable with getting undressed in front of her, so she smiled and said: “Sure, it’s the first door when you turn right, you’ll easily find it.”
Running a hand down your crisp shirt to smooth it out, you glanced at yourself in the mirror - so far you just looked a bit like a fancy Victorian aristocrat. It was agreed that the girl in the other room would help you do the special effects (and general) makeup for your costume, and you hoped that it would help elevate it to be a little more Halloweenesque.
No doubt your other two friends were doing the exact same thing right now, Allie putting a lot more effort into her costume than Brooke though.
“You ready for your makeover, Dracula?!” Sienna shouted from the other room, making you almost drop the comb you had brought with you into the sink (slicking back your hair was a harder affair than first thought).
You cleared your throat before replying. “Umm yeah hang on!” Grabbing what she’d need to transform you into a citizen of Transylvania, you walked back into the bedroom.
Standing in front of the bed, you gave her an awkward half sort of twirl. It made your cape swish around at least.
Sienna bit her lip as she tried not to laugh. “Wow, umm, it’s actually quite cool. I think the makeup will give it that extra oomph though, can’t have a vampire without fangs.” Both of you looked towards the package that contained the fake fangs. Also splayed out on the bed was a collection of makeup: eyeshadow palettes, mascaras, lip gloss, concealer – all Sienna’s, and some fake blood, glittery fake blood. You supposed that was where the chic part of your costume came in.
The armoured girl looked at you for a moment for patting a space on the bed, silently asking you to sit down so she could get started. You complied a little too quickly, feeling almost lightheaded by being in her presence and by being so close.
“Fangs or makeup first?”
You pointed to the fake, glue-on fangs a little apprehensively, hoping the glue wouldn’t fuck up your teeth.
Sienna worked quickly and efficiently, like how she did most things – you knew this because you spent admittedly quite a lot of time looking at her when she was in the middle of doing something. Brooke sometimes teased you for it, but you were pretty confident you had the others convinced your admiration for the artist was purely platonic.
“Open your mouth” the brunette instructed, you shifted on the bed a little and did as you were told. Her fingers tingled as she touched your face, tilting your head up so she could press on one of the fake fangs to your tooth, holding it until the glue stuck.
Whilst it wasn’t exactly what you had hoped for when you sometimes wished for her fingers in your mouth, it felt adrenaline-inducing all the same. You couldn’t take your eyes away from her face, even though you knew it was rude to stare, and even though you were almost certain she was aware of your staring. Sienna’s outfit and makeup was breathtaking, a homage to just how talented she was – how beautiful she was too.
The idea of her as some sort of mystic Valkyrie warrior fit, it fit perfectly and made you want to faint every time you looked at her.
“Okay, second and last one, just stay still for a moment.” The brunette applied a tiny dab of prosthetics glue to the end of the other vampire tooth before gesturing for you to open your mouth again. You did so and glanced away as she held the fake fang in place, trying not to acknowledge how flush your face was getting.
After they had been applied, and your teeth really did resemble ones of a bloodsucking creature of the night, Sienna moved on to doing your makeup.
The close proximity she had to your face was beginning to make you feel a little sweaty. The first step she took for your transformation was making you look a little more pale than usual, sickly. Not wanting to make it too obvious or campy by using face paint she instead used foundation, concealer and powder a few shades lighter than your natural skin colour.
Next came the eye makeup, Sienna dabbed very small amounts of what seemed to be eye shadow under your eyes to give the appearance of dark circles. Not that she needed much help with that, you were a bit of an insomniac.
The eyeshadow she used around your eyes was black and glittery, drawing attention to your irises. It felt weird trying not to look at the other girl when she was staring so intensely into (or rather, around) your eyes. The same thing happened when she was doing your lip gloss to quote unquote ‘draw attention to your mouth’ and subsequently, your fangs – you thought she might have been staring a little too hard.
And finally, the fake blood. Sienna had dipped the end of a very fine makeup brush in the fake crimson, tickling you slightly as she dabbed your lower lip with it. For a little extra effect, she let some run down your chin, staring a little intensely as some of it ran down your neck a little as your head was tilted back.
Trying not to take the moment as more than it was, and trying to calm your racing heart, you got off the bed to admire your friend’s handiwork in the mirror.
“Holy shit” you laughed, looking at your face from different angles. You could pass as Dracula himself if it wasn’t for the glitter in the fake blood Sienna had running down your chin. Unless he was a very campy Dracula.
“Sparkly Dracula” she commented, looking a little distracted as she assumably admired your costume. You turned around back to her and shot her a genuine smile.
“I love it, thank you.”
The girl shrugged a little and tried to brush the compliment off, but you could tell she was secretly happy to be praised. Sienna always acted humble and dismissive whenever someone complimented her artistry, but you could tell it made her feel good. She, in your opinion, should have been used to compliments by then as everything she touched turned to metaphorical gold, Halloween costumes were no different.
“Right come on” she followed you in getting off the bed and grabbing her phone as the two of you were already running late. “If we’re not there soon we’ll miss all the fun.” A part of you wanted to ask what was fun about a bunch of gross sweaty teenagers getting drunk and rubbing up on each other on a dance floor.
You’d much rather just spend the evening in her bedroom watching cheesy 80’s slasher movies and eating popcorn. But you could tell Sienna was looking forward to it, seeing it as an opportunity to blow off some steam, and held your tongue. The things you did for love.
The floor under your feet vibrated with music as the two of you tried to weave your way through the crowd to where Allie and Brooke were. You, thankfully, saw no sign of Brooke’s boyfriend (small mercies). Finally reaching the two of them, you all got a chance to admire each other’s outfits.
Neither of their costumes were as well-crafted (or as hot) as Sienna’s but both looked cute, passable for Halloween. Allie thought the glitter in your fake blood added a nice touch.
“What are you? A gay Dracula?” Brooke snorted, taking another swig of whatever was in her cup. Without knowing any better, and going by her facial expression, it looked like she was drinking straight up gasoline. At her best friend’s remark Sienna tried not to roll her eyes.
“Leave them alone, I think they look great.”
Brooke gave her a look.
“What?”
The blonde smirked, simply shaking her head as she looked around. “Nothing.” The slightly awkward moment was broken when the song changed to a favourite and Allie pulled all of you to the middle of the dance floor. A thing you had yet to mention to them was that you didn’t dance, not well at least. The idea of embarrassing yourself in front of Sienna made you want to dig a hole in the ground to crawl into.
“Come on” Sienna goaded you. Suddenly it seemed like the entire room faded away as she grabbed you by the hips and made you dance with her. Allie and Brooke and everyone else suddenly didn’t exist. The strobe lights on the ceiling made the glitter paint on Sienna’s face sparkle, her eyes equally so.
It felt like looking into a galaxy. Your heart was about to jump into your throat.
Perhaps she thought you looked silly almost frozen in the middle of the dancefloor as she started to laugh, head tilted back like an amused goddess. After a little bit of encouragement, and after the fear of looking like a socially awkward freak in front of the other girl took over, you started to dance with her. Properly this time.
A part of you didn’t want to just let go, you were hyperaware of the people all around the two of you. That was the way it had always been for you, so focused on if others were looking at you, and if they were, what they were thinking.
Surely Sienna’s carefreeness had started to rub off on you, as right then you were so tired of caring what others thought, so tired of feeling a knot in your stomach.
Everyone except Brooke and Allie seemed too drunk to even notice anything. Why did it even matter?
The two friends were near but kept their distance, almost as if they wanted to watch you and Sienna rather than dance themselves.
“Do you want a drink?” Sienna’s voice cut over the loud bass. Maybe liquid courage really was a thing. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak at that moment in time. The brunette simply grabbed your hand, goading you to spin her around a final time before she whisked off towards one of the refreshment tables; a pair of angel wings the only thing you could spot of her in the crowded room.
A total of about five seconds passed before someone had grabbed your arm, turning you around so you could face them. It was Allie, who was sporting a grin like the Cheshire cat. Immediately you felt defensive, the look Brooke was giving you too increasing it tenfold.
“What?” you frowned, slightly backing away as you wrestled out of Allie’s grip. She didn’t say anything herself, instead looking at Brooke to voice their joint thoughts – that was how it usually went.
The blonde took a sip of her vodka and tonic through a straw as she took a quick glance to where you assumed Sienna was. “She looks hot in her costume, doesn’t she?”
Arms crossed tightly over your chest, a picture of insecurity, you shot back: “Sorry?” It wasn’t even jealousy that caused the reaction, you were just overwhelmed with everything that was happening.
“Sienna looks hot in her costume, doesn’t she?” Brooke repeated, voice dripping with patronisation. Sometimes it felt like she thought your brain processed things twice as slow as the average persons. Currently it was as you were being to suspect what they were implying.
Trying to control your tone and keep your reaction impartial, you shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so, it’s pretty cool.”
Allie giggled. “You guess so? Please, me and Brooke have been watching you stare at her all night.”
Shit, okay, the suspicion had been right. Both of them had caught onto exactly how you felt. Fear was like a punch to your stomach, making you feel a little nauseous. “Please don’t say anything” was the only sentence you could come up with.
The two girls’ eyes widened, realising they had finally just got conformation on the thing they were only carelessly teasing you about. In reality, they had no more than an inkling towards how you really felt about Sienna. Brooke then laughed. “Shit, dude, I only like kinda suspected it but wow we were right!”
The seconds passed by like an eternity as the tension in the atmosphere could’ve been cut with a knife.
You could only breathe a sigh of relief when Allie reassured you: “I won’t say anything to her I promise,” then sending a very stern look to the definitely tipsy blonde next to her, “neither of us will.” She punctuated the word ‘neither’ particularly harsh – both of you knew gossip was as crucial to Brooke’s survival as oxygen was.
As if reading your minds, the young woman in question put her hands up almost in surrender. “Yes, yes fine, I won’t tell her anything.” Her expression shifted. “However, I’m not going to lie and say if you continue the way you are that she’s never gonna put the pieces together. That is if she hasn’t already.” Brooke slightly nudged you on the arm, trying to drive her point home as gently as possible.
Were you really that obvious?
Before you could ask her to elaborate on how your very intense crush on Miles County’s resident Valkyrie warrior was obvious or defend your honour (and the semblance of pride you had left), Sienna glided up next to you in a flurry of bronze armour and gorgeous hair.
Pressing a red solo cup into your hand, she raised an eyebrow as she looked around at the three of you standing static in amongst the moving crowd.
“What’s up guys?”
Allie, Brooke, and you all equally detested the fact sometimes that your friend was so able to read the room. Sienna’s emotional intelligence was normally something that set off butterflies in your stomach, but currently it made you want to throw your drink all over someone, Brooke seemed the most appealing option currently and make a dash to the nearest exit.
“We’re just talking about who we’ve seen here tonight so far” the lie came quickly and smoothly from Allie’s lips, leading you to internally note that she might have been less innocent than you gave her credit for.
You and Brooke nodded enthusiastically, as if it didn’t make the whole scene look even more weird. The two of you were like water and oil, when you got along something was usually up. Simply brushing it off as you guys not wanting to divulge something to her, Sienna took a swig of her drink and changed the subject.
“Where’s the boyfriend?” she asked Brooke. The grimace on her face indicated she disliked the guy as much as you and Allie did.
The blonde shrugged with a roll of her eyes. “Probably dancing up on some bimbo somewhere, I don’t know, I don’t keep him on a leash.”
Allie snorted. “You should.”
You and Sienna tried not to laugh, shooting each other a look as Brooke visibly got pissed off. “Yeah whatever.” Without even sending a glance to the rest of you she walked away – clearly the comment had struck a nerve, and she wanted to find Jeff to make sure he wasn’t actually dancing with someone else.
Allie watched her go with an expression a mix of guilt and irritation. “She can never just be pleasant.”
“Duh, it’s Brooke” Sienna laughed, once again shooting you a look. This time you didn’t know what it meant, it seemed she was sneaking glances at you just for the sake of it now. “Maybe you should go check on her? She was drinking quite a lot.” There, that was it, what made Sienna special. Despite your friend being a bitch to you all moments ago, the brunette still had her best interests in mind.
Allie bit her lip and you could tell internally she was battling between being petty and putting that aside to be a good friend. The other side won out, as it usually did where you guys were concerned. “Fine, I’ll go find her.”
At first glance it seemed that Brooke couldn’t have gone far, but Allie’s small form soon was swallowed by the ever-growing crowd.
“You, okay?” Sienna asked you as you looked around the room. She knew you weren’t the biggest fan of large crowds, or people in general rather.
“Yeah, I’m good.” Taking a deep breath you finally took initiative for once and extended your free hand. Your friend didn’t need to ask what you wanted, and grabbed it, leading you both to a less crowded area of the dance floor.
One drink turned into two and soon the both of you were tipsy, constantly bumping into each other as you danced. Sienna didn’t seem to care, she looked as if she was having a really good time. That realisation sent warmth straight down to your toes, the fact she found pleasure in your company was a miracle in your opinion.
The time you spent dancing together felt like hours as you grew increasingly tired, but you were slowly starting to sober up. Sienna seemed to be sobering up too. Soon she was grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the crowd, and down a deserted hallway that was much further into the building than everyone else was. She double checked no one was around before levelling you with a serious expression.
“I kinda need some advice.”
Instantly you were on high alert, worried that something had gone wrong throughout the evening. So instead of exposing yourself as the anxious freak you were, you tried to act irritated.
“What about? Aren’t we supposed to be having fun right now?” You weren’t completely lying; the middle of a party wasn’t exactly the best opportunity to pull someone aside for what seemed like a serious talk. But Sienna looked as if something was troubling her, and you didn’t want to push her away.
“No, no we are, I am I promise. But I need to ask you something.”
Had you done something wrong? A million scenarios ran through your mind, most of them ending with you heartbroken and without her in your life anymore. Maybe if you acted more annoyed, she wouldn’t be able to see how scared you were about what she was going to ask.
“Ugh fine but make it quick I wanna get another drink.” The last thing you wanted in the world was more alcohol, but you needed to make it seem believable.
You had rarely seen Sienna so nervous. “Umm let’s say hypothetically someone is here, and I really like them.” It felt like a fist had taken a hold of your heart and was squeezing so hard you couldn’t breathe, but she continued talking. “And I’m pretty sure they like me too, and I really want to kiss them, but I don’t know how to go about it.”
Oh, you should’ve known. How could someone like her ever feel anything for someone like you?
“What?”
Immediately she looked guilty, perhaps she had realised from the surely heartbroken look on your face that your affections regarding her were more than just friendly. “Look it’s fine we don’t have to talk about it, we can just go get more drinks- “, she tried to backtrack, but you knew if she didn’t explain fully, you’d be (even more of) a mess for the entire night.
“No, its fine I’m just…surprised that’s all… who is it? if I can ask?”
This was going to hurt. Was it Daniel, the artsy kid who she always joked around with in history class? Or maybe Davonte, one of the guys you knew she had grown up with. Truthfully the options were endless, Sienna was the type of person that you just couldn’t dislike. It didn’t help that she was stunningly beautiful on top of that.
What she said next wasn’t particularly weird but wasn’t what you had expected. Usually, friends would be all about telling each other who they liked, she seemed hesitant to divulge that particular piece of information. Didn’t she trust you? “Oh um, would your advice be different depending on the person?”
“…Probably.” You knew the only true advice you wanted to give to her on the topic of kissing someone else was: please don’t. But the bitter truth overcame you that you two weren’t together. She saw you as a friend and nothing more. You had no right to control Sienna’s life that way.
“Okay what about just in general?”
Shrugging, you tried to give the most impartial advice you could muster up. Inside though all you wanted to do was drive home and go to bed – you could wallow in self-pity tomorrow. You just hoped she wouldn’t kiss this guy in front of you.
“Well, um, I don’t know… I guess just ask them if they’re drunk, because consent is important, and if they’re not and they seem into you just go for it you know.”
“Right. Okay.” Sienna took a deep breath and bit her lip. The silence between you began to grow strange, why was she acting so weird? You were about to question why she was acting so off before she blurted out: “Are you drunk?”
Confusion washed over you, you assumed both of you were basically sober now – neither of you were lightweights. And also, you practically had to be as you were supposed to be the one driving you and her home. “No, not really, I’ve kinda sobered up basically. Why are- “
Suddenly her lips were on yours.
Oh.
Your teeth nearly bumped together with the force of it as she crowded you against the wall, before gaining composure and pulling away. The air felt warmer somehow as you both caught your breath. Then you moved forward, and that time were the one to initiate the kiss, a lot more softly. Her lips were tacky from her lipstick and your lip gloss, but you didn’t care.
She tasted like mint, the type of mint flavour you’d expect from chewing gum. It was odd that you could probably guess now that she used spearmint toothpaste.
When you both pulled away again, she finally spoke. “You’re such a dumbass for thinking I wanted to kiss someone else you know, my feelings for you weren’t exactly a secret.”
Her feelings for you?
“Oh.”
Sienna bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. “Did you not know?” You shook your head. “Brooke and Allie have been teasing me about it nonstop for weeks I swear.” They knew, and suddenly you felt quite stupid for believing they were as clueless as they acted.
“Assholes” you could only laugh. You were once again cut off when Sienna grabbed you by the hips and pulled you into for a deeper kiss. Clearly, she had been holding this back for a while and you would have been lying if you said it didn’t make you feel weak in the knees to have her be so rough with you.
The way you were being pressed against the wall would most likely leave you with a bruised spine later, but you couldn’t feel anything in that moment except for Sienna’s warm hands moving under your shirt to feel your bare skin, and her tongue eager and skilled against your own.
The sensation was almost dizzying as she moved away from your lips to kiss down your jaw, leaving a trail of lipstick and fake blood across your face. You honestly didn’t care if anyone could see the both of you, and if you looked ridiculous covered in the proof of your current make out session.
For once in your life, you didn’t care about playing it safe, doing what seemed like the most socially acceptable option – all you were focused on was how it felt.
Sienna’s breath was warm against you as she took a moment to try and compose herself, before failing to and losing it completely as she began to bite and suck bruises down your neck.
Maybe she should’ve gone as the vampire instead as you were sure those marks would stay for a good couple of weeks. But it made you hot to think that days from now you could have a physical reminder of what was currently happening. Proof that this wasn’t just another particularly adventurous wet dream involving your newest yet closest friend.
Sienna had always seemed so gentle in every way, but now she was gripping your hips so hard it started to hurt. Shit, she really did have a different side to her. It made another bolt of heat go straight between your legs. Your underwear was already soaked and none of this was helping.
Pulling away she said: “Can I touch you?” and the question made your brain short circuit for a moment. You had no idea she had even wanted to kiss you until moments ago, and now she was basically saying she wanted you that way. If in any other situation or with any other person, you probably would’ve told your friend that this was moving way too fast – but oddly with Sienna, it just felt right.
Insecurities weren’t a foreign concept to you, quite the opposite actually, but the area was pretty dark and you trusted her enough to go further.
So, despite your heart basically beating out of your chest, you nodded. “Yeah.”
“You sure?” her eyebrow was raised, clearly not pegging you as the type who was down for doing anything affectionate let alone intimate basically in public. There wasn’t anyone around, and probably wouldn’t be for a good while, but there was always the risk of getting caught. You suspected Sienna found it exciting, whereas you felt a little paranoid but were going along with it anyway because she was clearly really into it.
And if, God forbid, someone was going to walk past or spot you guys, they wouldn’t see much. You were firmly set on keeping most, if not all, of your clothes on, even if you were in Sienna’s bedroom you would probably consider that option too.
“Sienna please, just, yeah.”
Clearly that was good enough of an answer for her as her hands were sliding up slowly under your shirt. “What about here?” she asked, meaning your chest.
Consent was the most important thing, and you found it sweet she was so adamant on making sure you were comfortable, but if she didn’t touch you there or even lower soon you thought you’d genuinely explode from pent up tension.
Nodding, you pushed yourself forward and let out a sigh as her hands finally met your breasts. Surprisingly, her hands weren’t cold, and it was satisfying to feel her one of the places you needed it most. You were still wearing a bra, but it didn’t even matter if you had kept your shirt on or not as Sienna was reaching around behind you to unhook your bra with one hand anyway.
It was a little awkward to get it fully off and out of your shirt but once you had Sienna was all too ready to feel your bare tits. You tried not to gasp as she squeezed them softly, before pinching one of your nipples and laughing when you squirmed (very much not out of discomfort, but something else).
“Are you sensitive?” she teased, laughing as you tried to send her your best imitation of an annoyed look. “Can I use my mouth?”
“Please just…” the request was too embarrassing to ask out loud, but you could see that Sienna liked watching you squirm. She wasn’t going to budge until you admitted what you wanted. “Yes, please.” You were repeating yourself now, too much of a mess to really consider how to word anything.
She unbuttoned your shirt just enough to get access to your breasts and you immediately shivered as the rush of cold air that hit your chest. “You’re going to be the death of me I swear” she laughed as she leant down as low as possible to take one of your nipples into her mouth.
“Shit” the curse was out of your mouth before you could stop it. Sienna’s mouth was so warm and felt so good already. When it came down to the actual business of physically getting you off, you knew you wouldn’t last long. Even her just playing with your tits had you feeling like putty in her hands.
The girl let out a moan as she stopped sucking to kiss all over your chest and neck, nipping you here and there with her teeth to make you shudder. Just when you thought you couldn’t take it any longer, she stood up fully and asked if she could unzip your suit slacks.
“Fuck, okay” you tried to catch your breath, air coming out in puffs as you tried to steady yourself.
The effort proved futile as she moved forward and kissed you with an open mouth yet again, pulling at your bottom lip periodically with her teeth to drive you just that little more insane. Damn, she really did like biting huh? You made a note of that for future purposes, although the “future” in question was most likely less than hours away.
Sienna’s hands moved quickly at your belt, unlooping it before pulling it off and throwing it carelessly on the ground. Next was the zip of your slacks and the top button, once opened she slid her hand swiftly down into the front of your suit trousers. No time to waste, you supposed, someone could walk past any minute.
Besides, her urgency was incredibly sexy. It was like she needed you as much as she wanted you. At first, she began to touch you over your underwear, marvelling at how wet you were.
“Shit, you’re so wet, all of this is because of me?”
“Yeah” your voice was shaky. The understatement of the century.
She groaned as if your words had physically done something to her, and you swallowed hard. “Jesus I can’t believe we’ve waited until now to do this; I could’ve had you like this for me so long ago” she sounded frustrated. You wanted to admit that you shared the same sentiment, that ever since you had first saw her you had wanted to kiss her until the both of you had passed out from lack of oxygen.
You were going to agree, say ‘me too’ or even just kiss her again, but suddenly her fingers were putting pressure right on your clit. It felt just as good through your underwear due to the friction and just how worked up you already were.
She seemed to be observing your face as she added more pressure and then took it away again over and over, starting to rub little circles slowly.
“You like that?” Sienna moaned, then she needily sighed as you pushed off the wall slightly to push your hips further towards her. “Hang on baby” she kissed you and moved her hand away, making you groan into the kiss a little annoyed she was such a tease.
The frustration didn’t last long as this time she was moving her hand back into the front of your slacks, but also inside your panties this time too. Her face was now buried into your neck, kissing, and licking at the bruised skin there, so you could feel when she gasped as she was met with the feeling of your bare wet pussy against her fingers.
“Holy fuck” Sienna sounded almost winded as she pulled her mouth away from your throat, like she was just as worked up from this teasing as you were. “Can I put them inside?” she asked.
“Yes.” and suddenly her index finger was pushing inside you, eager and warm walls practically sucking her in. Your whole body felt electric, and you moaned as she added another digit alongside her index finger – her middle finger this time, stretching and filling you perfectly.
There was a theory that artists tended to be more dexterous with their fingers, and you were starting to believe this was true as the brunette easily found your g spot. Kissing you hard to muffle the sound of your moans, she pressed her fingers up against it again and again. Her thumb moved up to your clit and began to rub circles and in all honesty, you thought the noise you were making (even when muffled) would attract the attention of the rest of the party rooms away.
Sienna’s entire hand was soaked now, some of your arousal dripping down her wrist. The noises being produced were so obscene that you’d feel shameful if you weren’t currently on cloud nine. You were so close, hands gripping onto the sides of her arms as you needed to hold onto something to stop yourself from shaking so much.
It was also a good thing she had you pressed so harshly against the wall as now your knees were Jello. She could tell from how your cunt was tightening around her fingers that you were close to cumming and, to her credit, thought she had teased you enough – so doubled down on her efforts.
The tension inside of you finally snapped and you came with a muffled half moan, half scream as you absolutely drenched her fingers (shit, you had no idea you could even cum that much). Sienna kept on kissing you, taking her thumb off your clit but still keeping her fingers moving inside of you as to not overstimulate you too much as you rode out your orgasm.
She broke the kiss, and you gasped for breath, both from lack of sufficient air and how overwhelmed you were with pleasure. The aftershocks made you clench a little around her fingers every few moments and she watched in fascination as your chest rose and fell, face so warm your flush could be seen in the dark.
Finally catching your breath and regaining (most of) your composure, you felt as Sienna finally pulled her fingers out from inside you, already making you feel a little empty.
She, instead of wiping her hand on your suit pants or her own leg, instructed you: “Open your mouth.” It wasn’t a question. There was no please. You knew you could refuse anytime you wanted.
Immediately doing as she said, your stomach fluttered at the dangerous edge to her voice. You were met with the taste of your own cum as you sucked her index and middle finger into your mouth eagerly, wanting to prove yourself. Prove yourself as what exactly, you didn’t know. But you were beginning to learn that whatever pleased her, pleased you.
“Good girl” Sienna praised without seemingly really thinking about it, and your hands clenched at her biceps, almost accidentally biting down on her fingers with how hard your body physically reacted at that with something. The dark-haired girl could judge from your reaction that you had definitely took the compliment well. “Oh? You like when I call you that?”
She took her fingers out of your mouth and let out a breath of amusement as you couldn’t meet her gaze. “I expect you to look at me when I’m speaking to you.” Well shit. A hint of intimidation mixed in with your arousal as you let go of her arms and tried to meet her eyes with your own.
“Sorry” you murmured. You had no idea why you were even apologising, but something about Sienna’s words had unbalanced you. In a good way though.
After a moment she backed off of you, making sure you weren’t going to collapse due to how weak your limbs felt now.
“Can you-“ she paused for a moment to take a deep breath, “can you get on your knees for me baby?” She was looking up at you with pupils so blown her eyes were practically black and you felt the sudden urge to have your mouth on her somewhere. Maybe her mouth; it was sparkly, no doubt from all the glittery fake blood that resided around yours. It made you want to giggle, until what she had just asked you registered.
Holy fuck. Was this really happening? Did she mean what you thought she meant?
“Of course you don’t have to- “, the makeup artist was already backtracking, paranoid she had suggested something which made you uncomfortable. You shook your head a little too enthusiastically.
“No, no, i-it’s fine… I want to.” You reassured, moving the two of you so that your positions were now flipped, you crowding her against the wall this time. It was strange though, as even though currently you were acting as the more “dominant one”, you were hanging off of her every word. Like she was the one who was meant to be calling the shots.
Sienna’s head tilted down as she watched you get on your knees in front of her. Her facial expression was one of pure surprise, with a hint of arousal. She looked as powerful in that moment as you believed her to be, a winged warrior whom your heart was in the hands of. But in that moment, she was also just your friend: courageous, and smart and funny.
You wanted to give her the world, but that was currently impossible, so you supposed this would have to do.
“Can I touch you?” the question was shaky as you looked up at her. It was weird to see her from this angle, so used to looking down at her slightly due to the height difference being more so in your favour.
There was no hesitation. “Please.”
So, with trembling hands, you ran a palm up her thigh, marvelling how soft her skin was. Some people were a boob person, some were an ass person, you preferred thighs. And you wanted Sienna’s wrapped around your head as soon as physically possible.
The brunette obviously agreed that the anticipation had gotten too much, as she was then taking off the bottom part of her costume carefully as well as the undershorts she had worn under it. You had (very reluctantly) stopped Sienna when she had reached her underwear and was about to take those off too, wanting to do that yourself.
With her legs slightly spread you could see that her wetness had soaked through her panties. Trying to not bite your lip so hard it bled, you took them off and helped her step out of them carefully.
The sight you were met with had you internally scrabbling to remain composed. In between Sienna’s legs was a triangle of dark trimmed hair, and when she spread her thighs apart you were hit with the realisation of just how wet she was. The arousal was dripping down her inner thighs and making your mouth water.
You looked up at her for a signal to go ahead, and once you had received one you kissed your way up her thigh before grabbing her leg and resting her left foot on your left shoulder. Marvelling at her spread open you could feel from her body language that she was a little nervous. The feeling was mutual, so you tried to ease the tension a little bit.
“I can’t believe you’re letting me do this” you giggled. Jesus, socially awkward much? Sienna Shaw had you between her legs with no panties on and you were giggling like a loser. The thought did nothing to dispel the fluttering feeling in your stomach, it was as if the weight of her foot on your shoulder was the only thing keeping you from floating off the ground.
The brunette let out a huff of laughter, leaning back until her head hit the wall, rather in disbelief herself. “I can’t believe this is happening to begin with.” Your facial expression must’ve turned into something a little less light-hearted as she quickly rectified her statement. “Not that I’m not loving this, you look really cute right now.”
Heat simultaneously rose up to your face and down between your legs at the compliment.
“Seriously, you’re being so good for me”. One of her hands ran through your hair and then moved down to caress your face, you leaned into her touch.
Although technically this was just a hookup between 2 good friends at a Halloween party, the moment felt special. You had no idea why she had feelings for you of all people, but the way she was looking at you right then made you believe that she was genuinely telling the truth. That you were the one she wanted to be with, the one she wanted to do this with.
You leaned forward impossibly closer to her, face just mere inches away from what laid in between her legs. Looking up at her, you wanted to make sure it was okay before you finally got what you had wanted for what felt like forever.
“Go ahead baby”.
The permission she gave to you was the final thing to shatter your composure entirely, you gripped the back of her thighs and finally tasted her. Moaning as you buried your face without any shame into her pussy, you heard as she gasped, most likely from the eagerness of which your tongue was exploring her cunt.
“Jesus Christ” Sienna swore as you licked one long stripe from her entrance right up to her clit, repeating this until she was a trembling mess. Her façade was slowly cracking as you felt her get more desperate to cum, the dominant persona she had shown earlier melting away slightly. In all honesty you didn’t care about the dynamic between the two of you right now, you just wanted her to cum all over your face.
The shorter girl’s blunt nails dug into your scalp as she grabbed your hair harder to grind against your face, deciding the pressure and pace you were going at (which was admittedly rather to tease than anything) wasn’t enough.
The taste of her plus the fact she was practically fucking your face made you moan so loud you almost felt embarrassed. The idea of her using you like this was too much to handle, and shifting a little on your knees you discovered you were wet again already.
You were only almost embarrassed at your own noises because they were clearly sending vibrations straight up to the brunette’s clit and making her let out a string of curses. Her arousal had drenched the bottom half of your face and was dripping down your chin, you wished this could last forever. You would gladly spend the rest of eternity doing this with her if it was possible.
“Fuck that feels so good baby” Sienna tried to say more, before the words trailed off into a groan. The only thing stopping you from moving a hand between your own legs was the fact that you were more worried about holding her up. Sienna’s legs were shaking with pleasure, and it was hitting some sweet egotistical spot in your chest.
Her breathing was getting faster and more ragged as she leant against the wall, clearly on the edge. It made you want to both slow down and speed up at the same time – you wanted to make this last as long as possible. For all you knew, tomorrow it would be like nothing had happened, like you two were just close girl friends. Like you didn't now know what sorts of sounds she made when she’s being eaten out.
But Sienna’s hands were tightening in your hair, and you needed to know more than anything how she sounded like when she came. What her cum tasted like. The uncomfortable ache in your jaw was immediately forgotten as you doubled down your efforts. She tasted absolutely amazing and you knew you’d never forget doing this, could never forget doing this.
She sounded so pretty coming apart above you, panting and moaning as you abused her clit with your tongue.
As the both of you were already pent up, within a few more moments she was coming with a loud gasp, pressing herself against your face as close as physically possible as if she was scared you were going to move away. The reality was that you were more likely to just stay there and never leave. The noises she made were hopefully unheard by anyone else, but you, you were sure to hear them in many wet dreams to come.
Is this what heaven was like? Was she actually some sort of ethereal being? More wetness flooded your mouth, and you were thankful that your feelings for her were so obvious, as otherwise she might not have dragged you here under the guise of needing ‘friendly advice.’
Soon the loud gasps had quietened into barely concealed whimpers, and you were holding yourself back from kissing your way up her inner thigh to do it all over again.
Sienna was trying to catch her breath coming down from an admittedly very intense orgasm, and her grip on your hair was a lot gentler as she stroked your face. “Holy shit.”
You seconded that sentiment, feeling almost dizzy with both satisfaction at making her cum and need for relief again yourself. The ache between your legs was becoming unbearable again, but the current position you were in made you hold off on relieving it so soon.
For a moment, it was quiet except for her quiet breathing and the much louder sound of your racing heart. The two of you could also hear the faint music from the party happening somewhere off in the distance.
“Are you good?��� the brunette checked up on you. It made you want to laugh and cry at once – good? You had just acted out your biggest fantasy with someone who you were borderline in love with. Good didn’t cover it.
“Y-yeah.”
Sienna stroked your hair, silently glad that she hadn’t pushed any boundaries with you. It made your heart swell to feel her being so gentle with you, showing she could be as sweet as she could be rough. The perfect balance. You managed to gather enough strength to get up off of your knees and on your feet again to kiss her.
The other girl’s arms wrapped around your neck as she pulled you close, the two of you needing a minute to take in what had just happened.
You realised both of you were still partially undressed and pulled away from the kiss to button your shirt back up and grab the discarded part of her costume as well as her underwear and undershorts. “You should probably uh,” you gestured to her naked lower half, secretly appreciating the sight but more paranoid than anything that some stranger was going to come past and get an eyeful of her ass or more.
Sienna giggled a little at the expression of pure anxiety on your face, thinking that sometimes you were prone to worrying over nothing. There had been no one where the two of you were the entire night. “Calm down, I’ll put my clothes back on” she teased you light-heartedly as she took her underwear and undershorts from you. “Wanna help me put them back on?”.
With all the sex stuff you had forgotten she was almost as much of a dork as you were. Either that or a really big flirt. Probably both.
You ignored the fact you still were incredibly pent up and let her grab your shoulder for balance as she got dressed again. “Can we go back to your place?” you asked, handing her the Valkyrie skirt, and watching as she adjusted it around her waist.
“Oh?” Sienna shot you a look, “of course”. She gave you a peck before taking a hold of the knot of your cape and tightening it, somewhere down the line it had loosened and was close to falling off. “Are you okay to drive?”. Both of you had been sober for quite awhile now, and you trusted that you were fine to get you both to her house safely. You told her you were going to be okay behind a wheel.
The thought of being with her in the privacy of her own bedroom sounded like something to look forward to right now.
As soon as Sienna’s bedroom door slammed behind the two of you, she was pushing you towards the bed, neither of you even bothering to turn on the lights so the room wouldn’t be encased in darkness. Jonathan was out with his friends at some party, the same with Sienna’s mom, meaning the two of you very thankfully had the house to yourselves.
You both collapsed onto her bed in a tangle of limbs, your lips working their way down her neck. Taking charge seemed far away for a brief moment to her as you climbed on top of the Valkyrie warrior, before she remembered how deliciously pathetic you had sounded moaning into her.
Without even thinking, Sienna pushed herself up off the bed and against you, hooking her legs around your back and flipping you two over so now she was the one on top.
You let out a noise of surprise as you looked up at her. “Shit, okay, not complaining about this”.
“Of course you’re not complaining you loser” she laughed, not really meaning the insult. Even if you were a loser, maybe she liked that.
When you grabbed her hips, Sienna responded by grinding down into you, making your breath hitch. Her face showed a mix of concentration and arousal as she tried to take off her wings, shoulder piece and breast plate as carefully and as quickly as possible – sure the costume had taken months to create, but she also really wanted to be inside you right then.
It took a moment, and you having to actually sit up and help her, but finally she was naked from the waist up and you were rewarded with the sight of her bare chest.
Her breasts were perfect, as you had expected them to be, even if they hadn’t been you still would’ve wanted them in your mouth as much as you wanted them right now. The brunette’s hair was framing her face perfectly as she looked down at you, the lamp light illuminating the space around her almost creating the impression that she was glowing.
Grabbing her by the hips and pulling her towards you, the warrior shifted in your lap as you teased one of her nipples using your mouth.
“Fuck” she swore, grabbing the back of your hair when you moved one of your hands away from her hip to fondle her left breast a lot less gentle than you were being with your mouth. Sienna couldn’t believe this was happening still, she had known about your crush on her for a while now but was surprised either of you had the metaphorical balls to do something about it.
Oh, but was she glad though, now pulling you away from her chest and pushing you forcefully down on the bed. “Enough of this teasing bullshit” she practically growled, ripping your shirt open so hard that some of the buttons popped off.
Frankly you didn’t care, the whole costume was bought on a budget and besides, you were too turned on to think of any of the practicalities.
Once your shirt was open, she shimmed down you to take off your belt again, this time for good, and throw it across the room to land somewhere on her bedroom floor. Next came your cape, which would’ve made you giggle in any other situation. Sienna pulled down your slacks with an urgency that, coming from her, was previously unbeknownst to you.
She unhooked your bra and threw it to the side to join the other clothes that were on the floor. “Take these off baby” she was gesturing to your suit trousers.
You kicked them off, leaving them in a bunch at the end of her bed. The half-naked girl bent down to kiss you again as she worked on taking the rest of her costume off, now both of you were basically only in underwear (you still in your shirt somehow – neither of you seemed to care, more concerned with the feeling of her hips pressed against yours).
“You’re so beautiful” you couldn’t help but comment, running a hand down her arm and noticing the gold shimmer of her glitter paint in the dark. Sienna’s face flushed but you didn’t notice, a fact she was grateful of.
The two of you both didn’t feel like you needed to say anything else to each other for a while, simply kissing and enjoying the sensation of her bare chest against yours. The brunette’s breathing was getting heavier though and soon she was reaching to pull down and take off the last article of clothing she had on.
She asked you: “Can we try something?”.
That question made you as curious as it did aroused. “Umm okay”.
Sienna stroked your thigh comfortingly, worried you were anxious for no good reason. “I can do all the work just-” she sighed as she climbed off you for a moment to take your underwear off too, “lift your leg up and put it over my shoulder baby”. Feeling a mix of apprehensive and overwhelmed you did as she said – your stomach fluttering as you noticed how strong her hands were.
Then you realised what she was doing, no stranger yourself to porn. And could only moan as she pushed her hips forward and down, so that her cunt met yours.
“Does this feel good for you?” she asked through pants, clearly enjoying it herself. She felt so wet, and you had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from swearing when your clits rubbed together. It was too much and not enough at the same time – this was going to be the death of you.
You could only reply to her question with a string of curses and moans as she experimented with different angles, trying to get the most direct contact with your pussy as possible. Some led to more contact than others but all felt as equally good, and the noises that were being made caused your face to feel hot.
Sienna seemed to go harder when you tried to speak but found you couldn’t form any words, it was becoming clear to you that she liked when you were a desperate mess.
“You look so cute right now” she said, knowing that neither of you were going to last long. “God I love you so much” leaning down, the dark-haired girl kissed you, still rocking her hips against yours as much as she could in the position.
Even though you weren’t getting as much pressure on your clit before now, you still opened your mouth into the kiss – noticing how close you were. She had just said she loved you.
Sienna was pressing her face into your neck now, overwhelmed, her breathing growing more ragged by the minute. “We can’t go back from this you know. After this you’re mine” she sounded close to crying, “I can’t just be your friend, I can’t”.
You didn’t know what to say, so you kissed her again and held her until you both came hard. It was the truth though, the both of you couldn’t be friends anymore after what had happened.
You tried to catch your breath, body still trembling, and told her: “I love you too”.
On the Monday two days later, the weather was warm and got increasingly more unbearable as you pulled your hoodie up, hoping to whatever God was listening that the concealer on your neck wouldn’t rub off anytime soon. Sienna had rocked up to class in a similar fashion but seemed to pull it off better than you did. Neither of you had approached each other in public for fear of embarrassing yourselves.
Pretences were tiring to keep, and after the weekend that had passed you wouldn’t be able to look the brunette in the eye anymore without blushing.
You would call her your friend as you hadn’t necessarily put a label on your relationship yet; however, it was a lot more complicated than that now, and you had never been so happy about complications before. Allie and Brooke had texted you a few times over the weekend talking about aimless stuff, and mainly just making sure that you were alive after disappearing on Friday.
But you couldn’t tell if they had realised what had gone on – going off of what Sienna had told you about them the night of the party you guessed it was only a matter of time before it would be confirmed to them.
Actually, the idea wasn’t as daunting to you as it would have been mere days ago though. It felt like something in you had unravelled, like a rubber band had snapped; you were no longer as fearful of being judged anymore. Maybe it was just because you were so happy, for the past three days now you had woken up in a good mood and it was all down to one person.
Sienna, even when she had just been your friend, made your biggest troubles seem like mere inconveniences when she was around. Her presence was so calming and self-assured. As long as she was with you, nothing could ever hurt you. The girl had said that to you before and you had believed it wholeheartedly. You still did.
And now you two were making the metaphorical (and in this case kind of literal) walk of shame to the lunch table you guys shared with Allie and Brooke every weekday. Both of them seemed a little distracted, but upon realising you and Sienna’s presence they then seemed all too alert. Brooke actually put her phone away. Was this the Twilight Zone or something?
“So” the blonde coughed as you sat down next to Allie. Sienna taking the place next to Brooke. Keeping a distance between you and your crush right then was a good idea as you were sure they were about to borderline interrogate you guys. “What have you guys got for lunch?” Brooke asked, stabbing some salad with her fork.
What a pleasant surprise, for once in her life Brooke Valdeon wasn’t being a complete bitch.
Allie seemed to be following suit, silently asking Sienna to open a bottle of soda for her as she couldn’t do it herself. Neither of them seemed to care that you and Sienna had definitely hooked up and were probably more than friends. The only thing that they said that even showed an inclination of their knowledge was when Allie complained about now being the only single one amongst you all.
“Seriously guys, there’s so many single people out there – surely one of them’s for me, why haven’t I found them yet?”
Brooke rolled her eyes; “Cause you say cringe shit like that.” You all laughed and even Allie had to crack a smile at that, knowing it was pretty much true.
After lunch break Sienna had offered to walk you to class, just the two of you, leaving a surprisingly supportive Allie and Brooke in your wake. She had her hands stuffed into the pockets of her jeans and looked incredibly nervous. You had literally seen her entirely naked not even three days ago, and she was still acting like you guys were at the end of a first date or something, you would’ve poked fun at her if it wasn’t so cute.
“Would you wanna come round mine tonight? We could watch a movie, I just renewed my Shudder subscription” she offered quietly.
You tried not to smile, “Like a date?”
She looked down at her converse, nothing like the girl you had been with on Friday. “Yeah, I mean, if you want it to be…”
Instead of giving Sienna a verbal response you checked the hallway was empty before grabbing her by her hoodie strings to pull her close and kiss her. You pulled away after a few moments, happy you could now do that without risking making a complete fool of yourself. Watching you as you turned around and opened the door to your next class, Sienna looked surprised. Surely that was a good enough answer to her question.
“So, is that a yes?!” she shouted after you, flustered.
“Duh, Sienna! Of course it’s a yes!”
a/n: and then you guys had a super cute date/movie night and watched the Texas chainsaw massacre and lived happily ever after with no scary borderline immortal clown ruining your lives ::))
#sienna shaw#terrifier#terrifier 3#wlw#sienna shaw x reader#sienna shaw x fem reader#x fem!reader#x female reader#sienna shaw x you#smut#fluff#friends to lovers#mutual pining#terrifier 2#art the clown#damien leone#fanfic#terrifier 2 fanfic#wlw smut#terrifier allie#jonathan shaw#lauren lavera#Spotify
207 notes
·
View notes
Text
| The Wager |
Cardinal Copia x FemReader rating: E words: 4k tags: dom copia, oral sex (m receiving), confessional sex, choking, rough sex, copia is a sneaky shit AO3
Summary: A new Sister of Sin, you feel you are not living up to the expectations of your new church and seek out confession to unburden yourself. Little do you know, that the Cardinal has something he needs to confess to you.
I started writing this ages ago and its been so close to finished for ages. Seeing the new movie made me feel motivated to complete it.
Not my best work but hey, I did some writing :)
It's a bit silly but c'est la vie!
Your hands grip the edge of the pew as you take a steadying breath. You’d been sitting here for nearly an hour, watching sibling after sibling as they entered and left the confessional box. It seemed so large and imposing in the low light of the abbey’s candelabras. You knew you needed to speak, to confess. Yet you were anxious. A new Sister of Sin, and not just any new Sister—but one that had converted from the local church.
A few months have passed since you left your old life behind you to join the strange, yet welcoming, abbey upon the hill. Everyone had accepted you without question—you were not the first to leave behind an old god and you would not be the last—yet old habits and the lingering guilt were hard to forget. Your hands tighten their grip on the pew and you watch as another sibling leaves the confessional. They give you a brief smile before they pass and you realise you are the only one left, the only sound is their fading footsteps before the chapel is silent.
It was now that you had to go before the confessional closed for the evening, it was so late already. You could wait until next week, yet you felt you couldn’t keep this bubbling away inside. You needed to speak to someone—and you had spoken with Papa Terzo before. He had been charming and kind, and very flirty, something that made you flush quite a bit. But he never made you feel silly or stupid for not knowing the customs of your new home. You were sure this would be no different, yet the anxiety still lingered.
You made yourself stand, sliding out of the pew and walking over to the confessional. Your hand hesitates before you gently knock on the side of the detailed wood.
“Enter.”
The low word is muffled but you hear it and step inside. The door shuts quietly behind you and you take your seat, glancing at the shadowy outline of Papa on the other side. It smells like chapel incense and some other scent that has you taking a deep breath as the scent comforts you in the warmth of the confessional.
With your hands clasped in your lap, you speak, “Forgive me, Papa, for I have sinned.”
“This must be your first time, Sister.”
You pause. The voice is not Papa Terzo as you had expected but Cardinal Copia. You grip the fabric of your habit in embarrassment. While you were too busy worrying, you had not noticed that Cardinal Copia was the one taking confession and not Papa.
“Forgive me, Cardinal,” you say.
“There is nothing to forgive,” he says. “And we do things a little differently here. Sinning is very much encouraged.”
“Sorry, Your Eminence, I am still stuck in my old ways,” you reply hesitantly, the knot in your stomach growing tighter.
“Does this bother you, Sister?”
You nod and then realise he can’t see you. “I’m finding it hard to adjust, it is so similar yet so different to my old life.”
“That is to be expected, change affects us all,” he says. “It will improve over time, you haven’t been with us long.”
You know that’s true. You also realise this is the first conversation you’ve ever had with the Cardinal. He always seemed to keep to himself or haunt the library. You’d only ever exchanged greetings with him before. He made you nervous, Papa Terzo was so much more approachable than Cardinal Copia. Anyone was…well, perhaps not Papa Secondo. But Cardinal Copia was so silent and quiet, he only ever really seemed to come alive during sermons or when he taught classes. His intensity was intimidating and the way he would sometimes cut down a fellow sibling during a lesson could be nerve wracking. But how his impassioned words held your attention, it was impossible not to be drawn to the Cardinal. You wanted to be noticed by him yet never have his gaze upon you. So you’re surprised at how kind his words are, though you know it is his job. It’s much easier to talk to him when you aren’t forced to look at his imposing expression.
“I know, Cardinal,” you say. “I just worry I’m not…meeting expectations.”
“How so?”
You shift in your seat. This had been much easier when you’d been imagining it in your head. And while the Cardinal words were polite, there was still an edge to his voice that made you shift on the wooden seat.
“In my worship,” you say, feeling your face flush. “I know many siblings prefer to do so, er, together.”
“Ah.”
“All forms of sin are encouraged, mia cara, not just the ones of the flesh.” His voice is low and you scoot a little closer towards it, unable to help but smile at the endearment. “You do not need to be writhing upon an altar while someone feasts upon your divine sex to please the Olde One.”
Maybe not but it’s suddenly all you can think about. It was one thing to leave your old life behind because you did not wish to live a life without pleasure, yet to have it fully thrust upon was hard to contend with. The abbey lived life to the fullest and held no shame, but you were not ready to participate in certain rituals. Though, you had certainly thought of them with the Cardinal in mind. But you knew he never attended such things.
How you wished that he did.
“Thank you, Your Eminence,” you reply, sensing it was time to leave. “Siamo con il nostro Dio Scuro,” he says and you can dimly see his gloved hand move in the darkness to make the sign of the grucfix. “Nema.”
You stand and make to leave but he speaks, making you pause.
“Sister.”
The sharp word hangs in the small space and you glance at his shadowy figure on the other side of the confessional.
“Yes, Cardinal?”
He clears his throat and his words are short, awkward. This has your brow furrowing in confusion.
“Do you have time to stay a moment? I know it is late.”
“Yes, I can.” You sit back down, apprehension knotting in your stomach.
“I feel I must confess something to you.”
Confess? To you? Cardinal Copia? The apprehension knots even further. What could he possibly confess?
“Oh?” is all that manages to escape your mouth. Your head twists so that you are facing the latticed partition. Your hands grip the edge and you lean closer without even realising your face is nearly touching it.
“I heard that Papa Terzo and Papa Secondo have a wager, in regards to you,” says the Cardinal.
“A wager?” you ask, confused.
“Si,” he says, his words still sounding oddly stilted. “There is no polite way to say it, Sister, but they’re betting on who can fuck you first.” He sighs. “They do it after every initiation of a new group of siblings.”
“What?” it comes out as a squeak.
“They pick someone and whoever fucks them first wins.”
You’re shocked but also strangely thrilled at the thought. You haven't really spoken to either Papa. Secondo was so…Secondo, you don’t think you can recall ever having spoken to him. And Terzo was always surrounded by admirers that you had only really spoken to when you first joined or after Dark Mass, since he was the reigning Papa. While he has always been so friendly to you, you did not think he even knew your name.
“Why me?” you can’t help but ask.
“You come from the village church,” says Copia with a sneer. “They think it would be quite the challenge—” he pauses and then quickly asks, “are you a virgin? Is this why you are reluctant to worship in such a fashion?”
“No!” you say quickly. You hadn’t had much as much experience as your new siblings but you had some. It had been one of the reasons for leaving your old faith behind. You feel your face colour in embarrassment.
“There is nothing to be ashamed of if you are. We are not heathens… not completely. You are not forced to do anything you do not wish to. You are not required to join the rituals if you do not wish to.”
“You don’t participate,” you say hesitantly. It’s not a question but you desperately want to know why he doesn’t join them.
“How could I compete with Papas?” he gives a short derisive laugh. “Pretty Sisters do not want a cardinal when they can have a Papa, eh?”
You say nothing but can’t help but smile. He called you pretty! How could someone not want him? Perhaps he was a little quiet and somewhat intimidating. But you can’t deny the way you have had to press your thighs together when he would sometimes speak. Your thoughts return to his earlier words of worship upon an altar. You shiver at the thoughts, feeling the warmth of arousal begin to burn low.
“Sister?”
“Sorry, Cardinal.” You take a deep breath. “Thank you for telling me this. You are wrong though, many would want you.”
“That is kind of you, mia cara. But I am well aware of my reputation.” You hear a low chuckle, you’d never really heard him laugh before. “Which you best not ruin just because I have chosen to share this with you. I’ve merely had enough. And you didn’t seem like you would be one for their stupid games.”
You sat there. You were surprised that the Papas would even have such a wager, it didn’t seem like something these people would do. But Terzo did seem to always be surrounded by fawning siblings and had such a charming air about him. And Secondo…he always seemed to have someone—or several someone’s—with him. And his gravelly voice was quite enthralling. A silly brotherly game, you supposed.
But, why you? It was true you’d come from the local church, having had your doubts for quite a while until you’d spied the strange abbey upon the hill and felt drawn to it.
The partition suddenly slid across revealing the Cardinal in his splendid red robes. He looked like the Devil himself standing there while you remain seated. He quirks an eyebrow at you in question.
“Sister?”
You stand quickly and the small booth means you are so very close to him. The spicy yet woody scent you had smelt earlier was not the chapel's incense but him. The warmth of his body seems to amplify it, along with the fresh scent of clean linen and the tang of sweat that clings to his cassock. It feels far too warm here in the confessional. Why did he open the partition?
“Are you alright, Sister?” His low voice is overwhelming when you are so close, a hand gently grabs hold of your shoulder and squeezes lightly. “I hope I have not misspoken nor upset you by telling you this.”
You shake your head, trying to clear the fog. His hand is gloved—as always—yet the heat radiates from it. It feels so large on your shoulder and you can’t help the thought of that hand touching you elsewhere. You hastily look down as you feel the blush spread across your cheeks.
“No, Your Eminence,” you say. You steal yourself when the thought hits you. quickly leaning forward to kiss his cheek before you can talk yourself out of it. “Thank you, again.”
You risk a glance at his face and his expression hasn’t changed. But he doesn’t look disgusted so before you lose your courage, you move again and press your lips briefly against his, feeling his moustache tickle your skin before you’ve already pulled back.
He speaks, voice a low growl that makes your stomach flip. “Don’t do that, Sister.”
Oh. Instantly any hope you had is crushed. It was a stupid thing to do! You look down again and mumble an apology under your breath. You move to leave but his hand is still on your shoulder and it holds you in place, the other hand coming to your chin so his fingers can tilt your face up to meet his gaze.
“You can’t tease an old man like that,” he says, the hint of a smile on his lips. “Go kiss a Papa, mia dolce.”
“I don’t want to kiss a Papa,” you say. “I want to kiss you, Cardinal.”
Suddenly he seems different, more how he appears during sermons with that raw intensity you find so alluring. His touch is firm and sure as he pulls you into his side of the booth. Effortlessly he sits, pulling you into his lap so that you’re straddling him. His hands glide up your legs to then grip your hips so he can pull you flush against him.
“Give me a kiss then, dolce.”
Heart racing, you eagerly lean forward and press your mouth against his again. This time he responds, lips moving under yours. You can taste the bitterness of the paint on his top lip but it’s barely noticeable when his tongue is trying to slide into your mouth. You’re swept up in the taste of him and the insistent way he devours you, teeth occasionally biting and pulling at your bottom lip. It makes a thrill run down your spine and you press yourself closer to him.
When he pulls back, you’re breathless. His eyes are nearly the same, both so blown wide by lust that you can barely determine the colour of them in the dimness of the booth.
“Grazie, Sorella,” he says.
You feel like you are on fire. Your entire body is singing from one kiss. Lucifer, you want more. Without even thinking you move your hips forward, so you are sliding even closer to him, nearly falling off him in your desire to get closer. His thigh is right under your aching sex and you can’t help but grind down on it.
His moustache twitches as a small smile appears on his face. “You want more than a kiss, si?”
“Yes, Cardinal,” you say breathlessly as he pushes his thigh back against you making you pant out a moan.
“I thought you did not wish to worship this way?” he asks though he doesn’t sound concerned like he did before, his voice is edging on teasing. As if he already knows why.
“I—” your words fumble as you feel another flush suffuse your face. You are already in his lap and he just had his tongue half way down your throat—now was not the time to be the ignorant village girl. You swallow your nerves and say, “I want to worship with you, Cardinal.”
A sly grin unfurls on his face and that makes your heart race.
He brings up over his laps properly so your hips are slotted against his. The position makes you moan as you can feel the hardness of his cock through the layers of his cassock
“I worship a little differently to what you may be used to, dolce,” he purrs against your ear while a hand wraps around your neck. He squeezes, not too tightly but enough to get the point across. “You can leave now if you wish.”
You shake your head. “I don’t want to leave, Cardinal.”
“Good girl.”
A shiver runs down your spine at his praise, which he clearly notices. He thrusts his hips up against yours and your hands grip at the fabric of his pelegrina. The friction feels far too good but you want more and press down against him clumsily, making him let out a low laugh.
He brings his face close to yours, his nose pressing against your temple and his breath ghosts against your ear.
“Will you get on your knees for me, dolce?”
It’s so warm in the confessional that any sane thoughts have left you. It’s like he managed to bewitch you—you’d do anything he asked. And so you nod and slowly slide off of him to the floor. There isn’t much space in the confessional and it’s all stuffy but you feel even hotter as you watch him lift the fabric of his cassock. Underneath are his usual tight pants and you can see the large bulge straining against the fabric. Dazed and body singing with lust, you can’t help but lick your lips when he unzips them, letting his cock free.
You stare at it and you feel his hand reach for your wimple and yank it off so your hair can spill free. The leather of his gloved hands is soft as a finger traces your face before a hand winds tightly in your hair to bring your head closer towards his flushed cock. Your hands grip his thighs as you lick the head, the groan that leaves Copia’s throat emboldening you so that you lick it again before gripping the base to take it into your mouth.
The hand in your hair tightens further and you lick the underside of his cock as you suck, teasing him as best you can. Every sigh and moan that comes from him feels like a prayer and you increase your movements even though your own sex demands attention. You can feel the wetness seeping through your knickers and you desperately squeeze your thighs together, the hand not pumping his cock digging into his thighs as you moan around him.
“Do you need help, dolce?” he growls from above you.
You feel him shift, forcing your mouth to leave him, as the toe of one his boots finds its way between your knees to press up against your cunt. Immediately you grind down against him, desperately trying to ride against the leather while your hand still fists his cock.
It’s not enough though and you feel he can sense your desperation in the way he laughs.
“You need more from your Cardinal, si?”
“Yes, please, Your Eminence” you breathe, grinding down against him again.
His hands move to pull you up on your feet and when he commands that you remove your panties, you do. Stepping out of them hurriedly and leaving them on the floor before he is tugging you back into lap and pushing the skirt of your habit up to bunch around your waist. He makes no effort to be gentle, gripping your hips tightly and positioning you over his slick cock before he is bringing you down. You are more than ready for him but it has been so long since the last time you had fucked anyone.
“Cazzo,” he hisses, one of his hands coming between you to circle your clit.
The jolt of pleasure has you sinking onto him further, opening you up to him so that he is fully seated within you. You moan as he continues to rub at your bundle of nerves, your hips grinding down on him as you try to take your pleasure. Your blood is boiling with a neediness you have never felt so acutely before and when you begin to ride him in earnest, he is matching your thrusts with his own.
“Good girl,” he says, the low voice making your cunt throb in response.
A gloved hand is back at your throat, holding you tightly and making your head spin. You feel lightheaded and your own movements become disjointed in the delirium surging through your veins. But it doesn’t matter, as Copia’s grip on your hips and throat have you held in place with ease as he fucks up into you.
You know you are going to come soon, you can feel the delicious tension low in your stomach and your spine tingles with anticipation. The easy slide of his cock in your cunt is addictive, and you can feel him swelling further, bringing you even closer to the edge.
When his hand leaves your throat to hold both sides of your hip and bring down against him so he can fuck you hard and fast, you come fast. Your hands grips at him, hands fistings in the fabric of his pelegrina as you lean forward to bury yourself against his neck. He keeps fucking you as your ride the wave of your release until you feel him spilling within you. You cling to him as he takes his own pleasure, muttering unintelligible Italian. Sweat is damp on your neck as his movements start to slow and the only sound left is both of your heavy breathing.
“Grazie, mia dolce,” he whispers, his moustache tickling your cheek.
You lean back to see the smirk on his face before awkwardly standing, suddenly embarrassed at what had come over you. You just fucked Cardinal Copia in the confessional!
“I—” your words falter and you look down on the floor, grabbing your wimple and trying to find your knickers. “Thank you, Your Eminence.”
You pin the wimple back on your head while the Copia is waiting, not a hair out of place, as he smooths down the front of his cassock. You notice something in his hand—your underwear. You go take it but he tuts at you and pockets them with a smirk.
“Penance, Sister,” is all he says before opening the door for you.
It is much cooler in the empty church, a welcome relief on your heated skin and you can’t wait to return to your bed, unable to look at the Cardinal while his seed drips down your thighs.
You nearly jump when you hear a voice echoing in the silence. “Buonasera, I was locking up.” It is Papa Secondo, a set of large keys in one hand as he stands at the other end of the church by the large doors. You walk with Copia towards him, holding your hands in front of you.
“I was just holding confession with our new Sister, Papa,” says Copia smoothly. “But we are finished now.”
You don’t trust yourself to look at either of them and so you hurriedly offer a goodnight to both men before scurrying down the hallway and towards your room.
The next day feels like any other, though you are sore and bruised, you can’t help the anticipation of seeing the Cardinal again in your next lesson.
“Sorella!”
The voice startles you and you turn to see Papa Terzo heading your way, a bouquet of flowers in his hand as he comes down the hallway. He stops in front of you, gives an overdramatic bow that you cannot help but smile at. He proffers the flowers with a flourish.
“For you, bella!” he says. “I saw them out in the garden and had to pick them for you.” They’re dozens of red roses all neatly wrapped. “Did you wrap and add the card yourself too, Papa?”
“Si, si,” he says seriously but then he winks, earning a small laugh from you. “Beautiful flowers for a beautiful girl!”
You spy Secondo heading your way as well and try not to let any embarrassment mar your features. There is no way he could possibly know what happened last night. He's scowling but he always looks like that so it’s hard to tell if he is actually upset or not. He gives you a polite nod.
“Sorella,” he greets with a small nod at you before glaring at his brother. “Idiota.”
“Secondo,” replies Papa Terzo, “as you can see I am busy talking to the lovely Sorella, andare via.” The older Papa sighs. “Non si disturbi.”
“Eh?” “Il ratto ti ha battuto.”
Terzo’s face immediately goes from charming to enraged. “Il ratto?”
It feels like both men have suddenly forgotten you are standing there. You do not wish to simply leave and so you stand there awkwardly, wondering if you should tell them you know of their ridiculous bet.
“Si,” says Secondo as Terzo starts to go red around the ears, “quel bastardo l'ha fottuta nel confessionale ieri sera.”
“Pah! Sta mentendo. Non può farmi questo... di nuovo!”
Secondo ignores his brother’s outburst and looks at you. His voice is much softer than how he addressed Terzo when he asks, “Sorella, I trust your confession last night with the Cardinal was rewarding?”
Your face colours immediately and you stammer out a reply. “Yes, Papa, it was.”
“Vedi,” he says to Terzo with a half hearted shrug. “La ragazza sembrava completamente fottuta e lui ne era completamente compiaciuto, il bastardo. Inoltre, entrambi puzzavano di sesso, Terzo. Non userò il confessionale finché non sarà pulito.”
Terzo glares at the ground. “Cazzo.”
“Mmm. È sempre molto più bravo con quelli silenziosi di te, quella piccola merda.”
They both look at you and you stand there awkwardly. Maybe you should say something and tell them you are flattered but they should not be betting on such things. But before you can even muster the words, Terzo gives you a tight smile.
“Forgive me, bella, but it seems there is a rat problem I must deal with.”
You watch them walk away, bickering in fast Italian to each other, as you stand there utterly confused.
andare via - go away Non si disturbi - Do not bother Il ratto ti ha battuto - The rat beat you Si, quel bastardo l'ha fottuta nel confessionale ieri sera. - Yes, that bastard fucked her in the confessional last night. Sta mentendo. Non può farmi questo... di nuovo! - He’s lying. He can’t do this to me…again! Vedi - You see? La ragazza sembrava completamente fottuta e lui ne era completamente compiaciuto, il bastardo. Inoltre, entrambi puzzavano di sesso, Terzo. Non userò il confessionale finché non sarà pulito. - The girl looked thoroughly fucked and he was utterly smug about it, the bastard. Also, they both reeked of sex, Terzo. I am not using the confessional until it’s cleaned. È sempre molto più bravo con quelli silenziosi di te, quella piccola merda - He’s always much better with the quiet ones than you are, that little shit.
#my-writing#the band ghost fic#fanfic#cardinal copia x reader#cardinal copia x female reader#fic: the wager#not my best but i did something!
361 notes
·
View notes
Note
Thank you so much for writing for Invincible!!!!!! There's hardly anything especially with a male reader
So like yandere Mark, am i right? If he were to be yandere i could totally imagine him using his powers to intimidate his lover and get rid of anyone who he doesn't like and he would act like it's your fault if you're sad when he kills someone, he got it from his dad
Mark Grayson Yandere Alphabet
I found this yandere alphabet, so I decided to fill it out for Mark :3c This is post season 2 mark, or something around that, which is why Mark is different to what Nolan would be like. Let me know if you guys wanna see more alphabets like this.
Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?
I think after everything that’s happened, Mark would be a very clingy guy. He would hug, hold, and kiss his darling any chance he gets. It can get pretty intense, like, mark holding you so hard bones would break if you try to wiggle free or if he’s feeling extra emotional, be it positive of negative. In the beginning hed be too shy to kiss you, but when he crosses that bridge, he never stops.
Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?
After everything with his dad and with Angstrom, it would be much easier for Mark to get violent and bloody, especially if he thinks someone is trying to harm you, in his opinion. And to him, anybody trying to rescue you from him is a threat.
Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?
I don’t see Mark as someone who would mock his darling. Instead, he would try to pamper you and make you love him back, to make you accept that this is your new life now and its for the best. He would be overly affectionate, to the point where its extremely overbearing. His horrible self-worth also makes you seek a lot of validation. So, all in all, he’s very draining to be around.
Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?
Mark would hug you, cuddle you and kiss you against your will. Hed go as far as to force you to take care of yourself if you don’t, either by him doing it for you, or watching you like a hawk as you do it. hed never force himself on his darling though, since he still sees himself as a hero.
Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?
He would expose his heart to you from the very beginning, since he feels so guilty about kidnapping you. Mark would just word-vomit everything he feels and how this is what he needs to do, because he loves you so much and can’t lose you.
Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?
Mark would be so sad, but he understands why his darling fights back in the beginning, at least some part of him does. But he would grow frustrated if they kept fighting back for a longer period of time, since he thinks hes doing the right thing. Why cant his darling just SEE that?
Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?
Its in no way a game for Mark, this is almost life and death for him. He hates seeing you trying to escape too, since he knows its just proof that you don’t love him back or understand his version of the truth.
Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?
Probably the fact that there is a high possibility that Mark has killed his darling’s family and loved ones, since if he killed them, there’s no reason for you to leave right? You have no one else, just him, and that’s all you need. Hes also broken many bones, sometimes without meaning too, and sometimes on purpose.
Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?
He fantasizes about an almost movie like future, with a happy spouse who loves him back just as much as he loves them, where you’ll greet him at the door and embrace him so happy he’s home. It wouldn’t be too out of this world for Mark to imagine his darling as still living in solitude in what he deemed the safest place.
Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?
Mark gets so jealous, since his mental state is already very broken. The very thought of his darling loving someone else or wanting to leave him for someone else? Its almost enough to get him spiraling, and it either leads to him having a horrible breakdown, or growing extra violent when he fights crime.
Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?
Disgustingly doting and clingy. Hes always right behind you or touching you in some way. He absolutely craves your attention and validation, and will have a panic attack if you ignore him. But he also uses a lot of guilt tripping when he isn’t getting his way, or his darling it acting out.
Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?
I imagine your relationship was actually pretty normal in the beginning, with you replacing Amber. As normal as a relationship dating a superhero is at least. So mark was kind of clumsy but so sweet and genuine. But then everything with angstrom happened, and he just kinda breaks.
Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?
Yes. Mark acts cooler and a lot more down to earth around people, suppressing the worse parts of himself. He wants to come across as a hero that everyone can look up too, which also means very few people know of your existence after you disappear.
Naughty: How would they punish their darling?
Mark doesn’t like to hurt his darling physically, but he isn’t above breaking bones. He will sob the entire time though, crying and yelling at you that this is your fault and hes only doing it because you gave him no other choice. But he prefers emotional punishment instead, like isolating you for long periods of time.
Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?
He would try to keep as many rights for his darling as possible, not wanting to damage their way of life too much. But you would have no connection to the outside world, and you defiantly wouldn’t be able to leave wherever he keeps you. If you act up too much though, then he would have to start taking privileges away, and chaining you to the bed can also be one of those privileges.
Patience: How patient are they with their darling?
He tries to be patient. Mark knows it’s a big change for you, so of course you’re gonna act out and you’re gonna scream at him and try to fight back. But it also wears on him, making his frayed edges get worse, until he just can’t take it anymore and breaks down, which only adds onto all the guilt he’s been piling on you.
Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?
No way. If his darling dies, then Mark would spiral completely out of control. He would either isolate himself completely, or snap to the point where nolans acts look like a field trip. This depends on if his darling’s death was caused by someone else though. If you leave or escape, you bet your ass Mark is coming for you again. And the GDA would most likely help him, since they know the easiest way to control Mark is to let him keep you.
Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?
Mark would feel incredibly guilty and selfish for kidnapping you, but since he thinks it’s the right thing to do, then he would learn to cope with it. There is a chance you can get him to leave you go though, if you catch him at the right time when he’s most vulnerable, and if he thinks you truly love him in return. But this would be rare, and him coming back for you would be very likely.
Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?
All the loss and chaos he’s experienced since gaining his powers. The stuff Mark has experienced is enough to break the strongest of men, and with his mental state already being so fractured, the thought of losing you would be the last push he needed.
Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?
Mark would feel so horrible about seeing his darling cry or scream, since he already feels guilty about kidnapping you. This is also why it would take him months or even longer to tell you he killed your entire family and all your loved ones, since he doesn’t want to see you cry more.
Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?
Theres so many flavours of yandere, that Marks acts would fit some type of yandere, so probably not. Maybe the fact that there is a small chance he would willingly let his darling go? Or the fact that he resorts to using his own guilt and tears to manipulate you.
Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?
Honestly just play along with his delusions, that yes Mark, this was the right idea and the world id dangerous. You love him too, and of course you’ll hold him and tell him he’s doing the right thing and being such a good hero. It wouldn’t be too hard to twist him around your finger, since he’s so starved for you and your attention. Escape would be pretty fucking hard though, since even the GDA wouldn’t help you.
Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?
Most of Mark hurting you would be accidental, if hes under a lot of stress or very wound up. But it isn’t above him to hurt you on purpose if he thinks there’s no other choice, like you trying to escape too much, or trying to attack him.
Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?
Mark would worship the very ground you walked on and would see you as the center of his universe. This is also why the GDA wouldn’t do anything, since Mark sees you as his everything, and you are human and live on earth, then he wouldn’t turn against humanity. Mark would also bend over backwards to gain his darlings affection, whatever it takes, as long as it isn’t letting you free or anything like that.
Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?
If you replaced Amber, then you two would have been dating for a while before he snaps, so he would have pined for around that time.
Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?
I don’t think he would do it on purpose, but it would come as a byproduct of his darling being isolated for so long that they just kinda break on their own. Or might be more his darling being slowly shaped into the same kind of stuff that Mark is made out of than outright breaking, since Mark still loves you for who you are. This is where he’s different from his dad.
#male reader#reader#yandere alphabet#mark grayson#invincible#invincible season 2#invincible comic#mark grayson imagine#mark grayson headcanon#mark grayson x male reader#mark grayson x reader#yandere mark grayson#yandere invincible#invincible imagine#invincible headcanon#invincible x male reader#invincible x reader#yandere x reader#yandere x male reader
529 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ok, I feel like there's three writing concepts that Tumblr needs to get reacquainted with when it comes to understanding fiction:
Catharsis - Sometimes, fiction engages with horrifying, disgusting, painful, or scary concepts in order to bring about a positive experience for the reader. This can be through the hero defeating a disgusting evil, like defeating an abuser for example. One might also get catharsis not out of the defeat of something bad or uncomfortable, but simply from the experience of living it vicariously, such as joy at successfully hiding the body of a murder victim. There are literally countless examples of catharsis in fiction, but most importantly it must be understood, it is completely harmless to real people whether you're experiencing catharsis at something good happening or something bad happening that you get to live vicariously because it is literally fiction. Indeed, there's a lot of evidence that getting to experience catharsis through fiction at evil things, say, living vicariously through a fictional character committing adultery, even if you would never want to cheat on your own partner, actually helps purge the desire to do evil things oneself.
Pleasures of the genre - some genres have expectations that go with them. If you, as a writer, don't include those pleasures, you might turn off the audience. For example, the Western genre has a certain expectation of being set in the 19th c American West. There's usually cowboys and horses involved. If you write a story that's advertised as a "Western" that takes place entirely in a New York City apartment, it might be novel for the genre, but it might also piss off a bunch of readers who were expecting horses. You can do it, obviously, but don't be surprised if readers are confused and perhaps disinterested in the work. More salient to Tumblr perhaps - Marvel believes it is creating action/adventure superhero stories. If a Marvel movie suddenly became a psychological exploration of the internality of a character's relationships, without a single laser beam or fight scene in sight, Marvel expects its audience to be confused and unhappy. We, as fanfic writers and readers might be dying for that story, but that is not the pleasure of the genre that Marvel thinks its audience wants when it walks specifically into a superhero film.
Power Fantasy - this might be one of the most misunderstood or perhaps narrowly applied terms. Yes, sometimes a power fantasy is a 16 year old boy watching a superhero dude with 8 pack abs destroy the bad guy, get the girl, and save the day. Living vicariously through that character is definitely a power fantasy. BUT, a power fantasy can also be fantastical things that the audience wishes would happen in a way that would empower an audience member or make them happy. For example, a billionaire industrialist merchant of death like Tony Stark getting hit by his own weapons and deciding to become a crusader for justice in a way that actually helps normal people is, in fact, an audience power fantasy. We want to believe that if the right bad guy like a billionaire got the right comeuppance like a near-death experience at the hands of their own evils, they'd learn their lesson and become a better person. This is a power fantasy. This is not a thing that actually happens. It's honestly not that different from the power fantasy many gun owners have that if they own a gun, they're more likely to stop a crime in progress with their perfect marksmanship, rather than that they're more likely to kill or be killed by a member of their own family. Understanding the application of power fantasies in terms of good things you hope would happen happening in fiction is not only important for dissecting fiction as an intelligent viewer, it's also important in terms of recognizing when you're being influenced by certain stories and choosing what lesson you take away from it and what lesson (if any) you want to take away from it.
I just feel like these 3 terms are what I see most lacking in a lot of "discourse". Fiction is trying to engender emotion in the audience. Great fiction engenders a wide range of emotions in the viewer, not simply good emotions. Thoughtful fiction might (but not always!) try to impart a lesson. But great fiction can also just want to give you great emotions and make you think outside the usual box of your usual experiences. It's also completely fine for great fiction to just want to give you a great emotion experience like catharsis, or the thrill of a power fantasy. And I really wish these three separate but interrelated concepts were discussed more when it comes to dissecting fiction here on this site.
#fiction#writing#long post#maggie rambles#these are gross oversimplifications in some case but it's already a long post
316 notes
·
View notes