#or well he could be the cover; he is seemingly a normal man with a rather prestigious job; nothing odd about him (doubt)

[darabeatha]

[meatonfork]

Comfort in Company

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pairing: logan “wolverine” howlett x reader

warnings: nightmares, reader has longish hair, no pronouns used (i think) pls let me know. poc friendly! also, let me know if there are mistakes, im tired. and i think that’s it!

word count: roughly 3.7k

a/n: i have wolverine brain rot 😔 lord help me. i may be a lesbian, but he is a very pretty man

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It took three excruciatingly long months for Logan to stop looking at you with disdain in his eyes. The man in question was a lone wolf. He valued his alone time, often communicating in grunts and a roll of his eyes, or he’d simply just walk away. But, he never failed to do what you so kindly asked him to do. If you happened to lock eyes from across the room, his eyes would always hold a certain edge that basically screamed “I don’t like you; I don’t want you here.” But, you never took it to heart. 

Much to Logan's discontent, you were persistent. You saw him as a challenge. Someone to crack. The reward was far too enticing for you to back down. Any excuse to talk to him was ready at the tip of your tongue. To him, you were a never ending ray of sunshine. And, fuck. It annoyed him to no end. You constantly bounced around the mansion, never seeming to slow down. A seemingly permanent smile was etched onto your face. The kids adored you. Shortly after arriving, you became a fan favorite. Your maternal nature made the kids feel at home. A common theme amongst the young mutants being a lack of familial love and support, and you were more than happy to provide. 

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Three months passed before you had a normal conversation with the man, one that wasn’t him just grunting or a small comment that was nearly too quiet for you to hear. It was a late Tuesday night, and you happened to be in the kitchen preparing a new recipe for your class. Teaching kids to cook their own meals rather than relying on ramen or something that could be nuked in the microwave made you feel important. A purple, well loved apron adorned your frame. Green leaves, and pretty pink flowers were embroidered on the front pockets. Flour covered your front in small hand prints from where you had wiped your hands to flip through the pages in front of you. Your hair was pushed out of your face, the warm lighting forming a halo over the crown of your head.

Logan waltzed into the kitchen looking for a glass of water. Another sleepless night had taken over, and he couldn’t sit in bed restless any longer. His figure paused upon seeing you working. A tune poured past your lips as you hummed, a melody he wasn’t quite familiar with. He couldn’t quite get his feet to move any further. Yeah, the man could be brash (a dick, if you will), but he wasn’t blind. Anybody would have to be if they couldn’t see your beauty. Your nose sloped perfectly, and when you concentrated your brows furrowed just right. The apple of your cheeks were smooth, and in this lighting Logan couldn’t find a single flaw. The way your sweats fit just right, or the way your long sleeves were pushed up your forearms. Logan couldn’t deny you looked most at peace when you worked in the kitchen, almost like you were destined to cook and care for others. And, maybe you were. You were certainly good at it. 

He had been the subject of many of your affections. Coffee brewed and his favorite mug laid out for him when he gets up in the morning, even though you’re not there anymore. Leftovers often being set aside for him late at night, his name written on the foil with a little heart. Even his laundry would be folded in a basket and set outside his door on occasion. And every single time, he knew it was you. Your sweet smell often lingered, letting him know he had just barely missed you nearly every time. 

“Oh! Hi, Logan,” you turned your head to peek over your shoulder. A small patch of flour rested on your cheek, “Are you looking for something?” Your voice was soft, just like everything else about you.

Breaking out of his thoughts, he shuffled closer, reaching around you to grab a glass from the cupboard. A grunt escaped his lips, “Jus’ water.” 

The rumble of his gravely sleep voice traveled from his chest to your back where his slightly unzipped hoodie clad chest brushed your backside, causing your eyes to widen just slightly. His pajama pants were slightly too long, the shuffle of them on the floor being the only thing that indicated he stepped away from you aside from the warmth that left you. 

You hummed in reply, not pushing your luck with a forced conversation. Your hands went back to kneading the dough in front of you before you put it back in the bowl. 

“What.. what are you making? Smells good,” he leaned back against the counter, just to your right. Fatigue weighed heavy on his face, and his hair was sticking up in random tufts from what you assumed to be tossing and turning. He looked soft.

“Just prepping some dough for the tarts I’m having the kids make tomorrow. I figured it’d be easier to make the dough to avoid the inevitable flour fights,” a small chuckle escaped your lips, a fond smile taking over your features. 

Logan tilted his head, “Probably the smartest move.”

“I like to think so. Hey, I can save some for you, if you’d like of course. You don’t have to if you d-” Your voice became timid. The idea of having an actual conversation with Logan was starting to hit you, and your nervousness moved to the forefront of your mind.

Logan cut you off with a chuckle, “That’d be nice, sweetheart. Thanks.”

Your face heated up at his words, and that fucker definitely noticed. And, boy oh boy, did he find it amusing.

“Okay, yeah, yeah. I’ll make sure the kids don’t eat them all.” You gave a little nod, and a comfortable silence fell over the two of you. The only sounds were coming from you moving about, putting ingredients away and putting the dough in bowls. 

Your voice broke the silence, “Can I ask you a question?”

“You just did.” His voice held amusement, a small quirk of his eyebrow.

“You know what I mean, smartass.” You quipped back, a small smile tugging on your lips. He grunted with a nod, his hands moving to rest on either side of his hips upon the counter. His eyes followed your movements back and forth from the counter to the fridge.

“I think I’m a little confused. And, please, don’t take this the wrong way. But, why are you sitting with me? I got the impression you were never particularly fond of me.” You pursed your lips, eyes drifting up to his. Your voice was soft, almost as if you were trying to avoid scaring him off. 

A sigh left his lips, “Thought it was time to stop bein’ a dick and talk to ya. I notice, you know?” 

Your head tilted, “What do you mean?” A curious glint flashed over your eyes. Your hands slowly wiped the rest of the flour off onto your apron. Logan couldn’t help but think you looked so small. So pretty. 

“The things you do f’me. I notice them.. Thank you.” His eyes cast downward, suddenly finding the kitchen floor interesting. 

A small flicker of recognition passed over your face. You smiled and reached for the small kitchen towel that rested on your shoulder, hands ringing the small material, “Well, you’re welcome. Honestly, I thought it would be a while longer before I got any thanks out of you.” 

Logan scoffed, “Fuck off. The smell of the dough helped more than anything.” 

“Sure, buddy.” You teased. You turned back to the counter, wiping it down.

He moved to put his cup in the sink, “You should head to bed soon. You could definitely use some beauty sleep, sweetheart.” No you couldn’t. If Logan was forced at gunpoint to tell the truth, he’d say he’d never seen anything so beautiful. But, Logan doesn’t say those things. He barely let himself think them.

“Pot? Kettle? Black? You’re one to talk, do you see your hair?” A loud laugh echoed in the kitchen. Logan’s heart skipped a beat. How had he never noticed how lovely your laugh was? 

“Whatever. I’ll see you in the morning. Don’t forget to save me some, yeah?” He moved towards the hall, a small smile cast your way. 

“Goodnight, Logan. I’ll see you in the morning.” Your sweet voice trailed behind him.

Logan made his way back upstairs and to his room, three doors down from yours. As he passed your room, he could smell your sweet perfume leaking from under the door. Just like every other time he passed by. Sleep seemed to come much easier for him that night. 

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Since that small interaction, Logan had slowly warmed up to you. After discovering your laugh was his new favorite sound, he’d find any and all ways to make you produce the sound. He didn’t care if you were laughing at or with him. Although, it was more often the former. He started paying more attention to when you’d do small favors for him, finding you later and being sure to thank you. Small touches to your lower back, your shoulder, your elbow. Tying your apron on late nights when your hands were covered in goo from dough, or sauce for some other dish. He became the person you’d have taste test whatever new recipe you wanted to try out. 

“Needs more salt, bub.” He put the spoon back in the saucepan, taking a step back to let you work your magic. 

“Okay, thanks. Do you think it needs anything else?” You moved to the side just a bit to grab the salt, your arm brushing his as you stretched. 

He gave a small shake of his head, “Nah.” He moved to the cupboards to grab plates for the table. Small, casual conversation flowed easily between you two.

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When you weren’t in the kitchen, or your classroom, you could be found in the greenhouse. Your mutation helped largely with producing thriving fruits and vegetables. Beautiful flowers and vines practically overtaking the outside of the building. You made your way through the courtyard, a basket of freshly picked fruits and vegetables sat on your hip. The sounds of the children’s laughter echoing in the air. You raised your free hand to wave at Storm and Rogue, a beaming smile taking over your face when they yelled a hello your way. Dirt covered your hands, your boots not much better off. Your gloves stuck out the front pockets of your gardening apron, cheeks speckled with dirt from when you tugged on the small leaves of the precious foods and they gave way easier than expected. 

“Good bunch today?” Logan asked as he pushed off the brick wall near the entrance of the large school, cigar between his lips. 

“No smoking in the courtyard, Lo.” You slapped his hand away from the strawberries he set his sight on, “And don’t touch the fruit, it’s for the kids.” 

He tsked a little before bringing his hand up to the cigar, “Ah, c’mon, bub. They look so good. You really know what you’re doin’ in there.”

“Okay, fine. Just one. I mean it, Logan.” You give him a pointed look, letting it be known you mean business. But, Logan catches the amusement in your eyes, letting him know he could probably get away with having two. So he does. Popping one in his mouth as you both go up the steps, he holds one in front of your mouth, letting you take it between your teeth. 

“Mmm. You’re right, I do know what I’m doing.” You hum, savoring the sweet taste. Logan watches as your tongue darts from your mouth, licking the sweet juice that stained your lips a light shade of red. 

“Yeah you do,” he mumbles out, eyes captivated by the swift movement. 

“What?” Your eyes move to his.

“Nothin’. Come on, let’s get these washed up.” He opens the door, allowing you to duck under his arm as he follows you into the kitchen. 

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A storm raged outside. Loud booms of thunder echoed through the school, and lightning flashed and illuminated the dimly lit common room you were sat in. A small fire was lit in the fireplace as a large blanket covered your pajama clad legs. Logan found you curled up on the couch, windows slightly open letting a small breeze in, and nose deep in a book. 

“Hey,” you jumped at the sound of his voice, swiftly turning your head to see him leaning against the doorframe, “Sorry, bub, didn’t mean to scare ya. Mind if I join you?” You took in his attire. The usual white tank covered with a slightly unzipped hoodie, and a pair of grey sweats resting deliciously on his hips.

“Yeah, of course you can, Lo.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, not wanting to disturb the soft atmosphere blanketing you both. Your hand patted the space right beside you as you shifted your legs so your feet rested on the ground. The larger man pushed off the doorframe and made his way to you. He lowered himself to sit next to you, and grabbed your legs to shift them over his lap. You settled yourself against him, splaying the blanket to cover the both of you while your back leaned on the armrest of the couch. 

He ran his hands up and down your calves through the blanket, “What’re you readin’?”

“What the River Knows. It’s really good,” You blinked up at him. 

“Tell me about it, bub.” Hands pulling you closer as you shiver at the slight breeze. As you explained the plot up to the point you’ve read, talking animatedly with your hands, Logan can’t help but to soften his eyes. You get so excited when you talk about things you love. Teaching, cooking and baking, working in the greenhouse or gardening, and now reading. Your voice was still hushed to keep the peace, but the enthusiasm was there all the same. He finds his eyes drifting over your face, lingering on your lips. Soft and plump, still etched in that permanent smile despite him knowing how tired you truly were. He nodded along as you spew, your love for the book coming out like a waterfall. He feigned shock when you revealed plot twists, or anger when you explained how pissed one of the main characters made you. 

Logan’s fingers slightly dug into your flesh as you sat against him. He provided input where he saw fit, fingers dancing along your legs before holding you closer. His features totally relaxed as you rambled, “Sounds like a good book, sweetheart.” 

You finally notice how close you two are, and your heartbeat slightly picks up while your breath hitches. He notices, of course he does. He can hear it thanks to his mutation. He quickly quirks his lips into a small smile seeing your flustered state. His fingers reach up to push some hair behind your ear, and your eyes move straight to his lips. 

You don’t know who moved first, you or him. But the moment your lips touched, you find it didn’t matter. It was slow and languid, eyes falling closed. His hands slowly moved from your calves to your hips, encouraging you to straddle his lap. Your own hands slowly slid up his abdomen, one settling on his chest while the other traveled to the nape of his neck, tugging lightly on the hair at the base. Logan lets out a low groan at the tug, allowing you to slip your tongue into his mouth. You fought for dominance, but in the end he won. Heavy breathing filled the air as you pulled back, his hands ran up and down your back as he pulled you a little closer. You gained the courage to look him in the eyes, finding him already looking at you. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re gorgeous.” He whispered, eyes filled with warmth as he ducked his head to kiss the skin where your shoulder meets your neck, his hair tickled your cheek. 

“I really like you, Lo.” Your whisper met his ear as you leaned your head forward to rest on his chest, cheeks warm.  

Logan squeezed you softly in response, “Me too, hon.”

You slowly sat up, fingers toying with the hair on his cheeks, making his face nuzzle into your palm, “Can you read to me?”

He let out a soft chuckle, “‘Course I can.”

You settled back into his lap, arms wrapped around one of his as he picked up where you left off. The rumble of his voice vibrated through his chest into your ear as your head rested on him. Your eyes flitted up to look at him every so often, and he’d look back at you, ready to press a soft, chaste kiss to your forehead. 

Twenty minutes more of listening to his hushed reading, and you were out cold.

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When it came to Logan, most everyone knew he had burdens he kept under a tight lock. You saw the scars that ran over his skin. Sheets and mattresses with puncture wounds, and small tears in them. You’d seen them first hand folding his laundry when he forgot it in the dryer. You never pried, it wasn’t your business and if he wanted to talk to you about the horrors that kept him awake into the ungodly hours of the night, he would. In your mind (and pretty much everyone else's), his gruff exterior was a way of deflecting just how broken he really was. You admired his strong will and the way he was able to keep it under wraps in front of people. Most times. 

For you it was a little harder. Logan could hear you on the nights where nighterrors plagued your dreams. The sniffles echoing down the hall and the way you'd shuffle about. Lamps being turned on, and books being moved until you found the one that would keep you company until dawn. In the morning, he’d ask you how you slept. You’d always reply with some sort of answer most people expect to hear, but the small bags under your eyes and the tired smile you’d give him were always a dead giveaway. But, just like you, he wouldn’t pry until you were ready. Luckily for the both of you, those nights happened to be far and few between. 

Things were going good for you and Logan. Not much had changed in routine aside from a few more lingering stares, shared kisses, and naps thrown in here and there. You were in tune to each other, more communication when it came to feelings. That was exciting; hearing Logan express his love for you was something you thought you’d never get tired of and Logan felt the exact same. And, you didn’t get tired of hearing it. But, damn were you tired in general. 

It was late. Classes long over, and kids in bed hours ago. Too scared to go to bed, you sat in your warm classroom, forcing yourself to find something to do. Your eyes were hazy as they reread the lesson plans for the next two weeks. Nightmares had been taking over the last few nights. Forcing you to find something to do rather than sleep comfortably. You rubbed at your eyes, debating on getting up and making yourself a cup of coffee, late hour be damned. Your limbs ached and your head felt as if it was damn near ready to explode. With your elbows propped on your desk, you let your head plop into your hands with a heavy sigh. 

A soft knock lightly echoed through the room, causing you to slowly lift your head up. Logan stood by the door, a concerned frown and drawn eyebrows looked back at you. A sigh left his lips upon seeing the dark circles under your bloodshot eyes. 

He promptly made his way to you with hands stuffed in his jeans pockets, “You’re exhausted, honey.” Logan wasn’t dumb, he knew you weren’t sleeping well. But, he was tired of waiting for you to come to him. 

“I’m too scared to sleep,” Your voice barely a whisper. Tears welled in your eyes at the thought of sleeping only to awake alone. Logan lowered himself onto the edge of your desk, letting your head rest on his thigh. He put a hand on your head, and brushed your hair back. “Why didn’t you come to me, bub?” He all but cooed at you, voice soft yet firm.

“I don’t want to be a burden. You have your own problems too, Lo.” Your voice was muffled by the flesh of his thigh. 

“A burden?” He tsked, “No, no, no, honey. I want you to come find me. No matter the time, or if I’m asleep. Wake me, okay?” His hand continued to work its way through your hair, a content sigh left your lips. 

You whispered out, “Okay, but only if you find me too. Okay?”

“Okay,” he patted your head, “Time for bed, sleepyhead. Come on, I’ve got you.” He gently moved his hand from your head to your arm, giving a light tug to help you to your feet. The moment you stood, his hands found your cheeks forcing you to look up at him. A small pout was on your lips, tears still in your eyes. He cooed and moved his face closer to yours to give you a light kiss. His thumbs worked the tears off the apple of your cheeks, and he pulled back, “I love you, you know?”

“I know,” you nod. “I love you too.”

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a/n: thank you so much for reading <3

[reallyromealone]

DAY 🎃SEVENTEEN🎃 DOUBLE PENITRATION - NAGA! Sephiroth

Warnings

Male reader, bottom male reader, two penises, egg laying, I should have made Sidon this day ffs, biting, drugging kind of?

(Name) was facinated as he walked through the shrouded jungle, the young man was on the search of a plant for his research and this forest was the prime location of this seemingly elusive plant.

"HOLY-" (Name)s foot catching on a root and before he knew it he was tumbling down a hill "damn it..." He whispered in pain as he got up, thankfully his satchel was in tact along with its contents "replacing the magnifying glass would be a pain..." He whispered as he got up and dusted himself off, he was deep within the jungle, trees high up and endless "well I didn't come here to quit.

What he wasn't expecting was sharp eyes to follow him, a twelve foot long obsidian iridescent tail slithering through the plants as the Naga watched the adventurer closely.

Sephiroth liked this human.

He would be his mate.

"Not what I'm looking for but you are a Beauty" (name) crouched before a rare flower "you beauties have seeds thankfully so I don't have to take all of you" he said pulling out a pair of scissors from his bag and clipped a plant and pressed it into his flower book, tightening the strap over it to keep it secure "there" he said pleased, he loved pleasant surprises.

But what (name) forgot is that the flower released a gas when cut that could knock out an elephant for a few hours.

The last thing he remembered was silver hair strong arms.

(Name) grunted as he woke up, candles lighting the cave he was in as he sat in a nest of sorts "what the..."

"Ah you have awoken" a voice rang out and (name) looked to see a tall man...wait "A Naga?" He went that deep to manage to get into naga territory?

"You didn't eat me?" (Name) blurted out, normally Nagas would attack then eat "why would I eat my mate?"

What.

"I'm sorry, I'm a little confused--- I'm not your mate" he said awkardly "first off I'm male and second I'm human, can't exactly be a mate"

"Humans make excellent mates, I could smell you from miles away, you are mate" Sephiroth said simply and slithered around (name) "pretty mate..."

(Name) tried not to blush at the contact "I-I can't be your mate, I'm a researcher in the village..."

"Research here, I'll help you find that plant" Sephiroth kissed his neck and (name) tried not to blush at this beautiful man-snake, the scales that framed his cheekbones and his abs... Are all Nagas this beautiful?

"O-oh!" (Name) yelped as the Naga nipped at a sensitive part of his neck "my human is sensitive..." He chuckled and (name) pouted "what's your name human?"

"(N-name)... What's yours" he said as if he didn't have a halfie in his pants "Sephiroth..." He said simply "my mate has a pretty name" the silver haired man said, telling the human pretty words to convince him.

Nagas were bigger than humans as Nagas were predators to things like cows and humans depending on the Naga clan.

"So what do you...o-oh god!" His hips bucked as the Naga palmed his pant covered cock "A-alrighty..." Who was (name) to deny getting fucked by a handsome Naga who looked at him like he was his everything?

Nagas had an ability to draw people close, not quite hypnosis but more pharamone related and was usually used for hunting but in sephiroths case it was to calm his pretty human who melted into his touch, he was so willing already.

So docile... So bendable...

Sephiroth removed the annoying fabric and (name) shivered at the cold air against his cock "already? You humans are so needy..."

Sephiroth stroked his cock, firm and slow as (name) let out small moans and pants "I haven't even mated you get and you're already undone, cute"

Sephiroths other hand tugged and played with (name)s nipple, poor (name) choking as he moved his head to give him more space to kiss and suck.

"Close..!" (Name) panted as he thrusted into Sephiroths hand to try and get some more friction "n-no!" He cried as Sephiroth removed his hand from his cock "please please!" He begged but the Naga just tutted "behave human, I will give you what you desire" his fangs scraping (name)s neck before using his tail to manover (name) who was entangled in it and his cute ass before the Naga "I'll make sure you are more than satisfied, filled with my clutch..."

(Name) was dizzy as he let the Naga do as he desired, gasping as a thick tongue circled his rim before pushing in "o-oh god..." (name) clung to the thick tail, feeling the muscles move throughout it as Sephiroth began stretching him out with his tongue, hitting every spot within (name).

"Please... Need it" (name) whispered as his body shook at each thrust, god if this is what his tongue could do Imagine..."two?" He said hazily as he saw two cocks amerge from slit "to ensure proper mating, ones for fertilizing and ones for eggs.." Sephiroth said moving (name) so his back was against Sephiroth chest "gonna fuck your tight little human hole twice to make sure.."

(Name) was hypnotized as he stared down the two twin cocks that had ridges that would hit the best spots "both.." (name) whispered "gimmie both.." (name)a eyes were dilated fully and Sephiroth looked curious "you humans are kinky little things..." He grinned and lined them up "you asked for it..."

When pushing in, (name) struggled to calm down and tears built up "do you trust me?" Sephiroth asked and (name) could barely focus as he nodded and before he knew it Sephiroth bit into his neck, pain rushing through him before his body relaxed and pleasure filled his being "hah...what...?" He said as the Naga slowly bottomed out "my venom works as a setative of sorts, you couldn't relax...so..."

"Feels good.." (name) said and yelped as Sephiroth began thrusting, slow and deep before picking up speed, the stretch delicious and both cocks hit every spot that could be hit "fuck!" He cried as he let the other fuck him like a doll, hooking his arms under the humans legs and pounding into him.

"yesyesyes!"

"M-more!"

"Please fuck! Oh god!"

(Name) moans echoed through cave and Sephiroth used his tongue to tongue fuck his mouth as the two felt themselves grow close "mh!" (Name)s body shook as he felt hard objects shoot inside him along with got semen, his own cum shooting on his chest and sephiroths tail "fuck..."

He barely remembered passing out again, letting the Naga take him deeper within the cave.

He couldn't even bring himself to be mad.

[techwrecker]

platonic Logan howlett x kid reader where Logan takes the kid under his wing because the reader didn’t have like, parents anymore???

Intentions (Mutations)

Summary: After living on the streets for years, Logan takes it upon himself to make sure you're taken care of after your mutation develops.

Genre: Fluff?, light angst?

Tags: SFW platonic!logan, gn!kid!reader, not really fluff but not really angst, logan goes dad mode again

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: N/A (please let me know if I missed any!)

A/N: Thank you for sending in the ask! I hope you enjoy what I have! This is the longest piece I've written yet. Please keep in mind, that I jumbled the already incoherent timeline a little bit- I hope that's okay! Let me know if there are any grammar/spelling errors please. as always, reblogs, likes, & comments are always appreciated ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚

AO3//Taglist Sign-up

Other: dividers by @moosgraphics & @bunnysrph (tysm!)

The man standing at the mouth of the alley wasn't the usual kind of grungy, scoundrel that you were used to seeing. He was wearing a slick leather jacket over a pristine, white undershirt. His facial hair was well-kept and stylized unlike the scraggly, long beards that most around here men touted. His hair was seemingly done with a little tuft sticking out atop either side of his head. He could have just had bedhead or hat-hair, but they were too pointed to not be intentional. Ever since you were a kid, your intuition had never led you astray.

'''D'jya hear me, kid? I asked what the hell are y'doin' out in the cold all alone for." His voice was rocky and gruff, but it wasn't slurred or subdued by the weight of yellowed alcohol. You were surprised he even spotted you, huddled up against the frozen dumpster in the alley.

"Got nowhere else to go." You shrugged, attempting to retain the illusion of being unconcerned despite the wicked chill seeping beneath your layers. It wouldn't be long until the bite of winter dug its way deep into your body, carving you out and rattling your bones.

Living on the streets alone wasn't easy, especially in the winter. It had been about three years since your parents disappeared. You were yet but a tender 11 years old. At first, it was nice not having anyone around to make you get up early and go to school. But the days turned to weeks. Crying yourself to sleep night after night snuggled in deep between the fluffy pillows and lifeless covers of your parents' bed became your routine.

Eventually, the police came around after negligence reports by the school. You knew if you stayed alone any longer, you'd be taken away by force, sent off to live with strangers. Something in your stomach made it turn, telling you to run away. That bad things would happen if you stuck around. So, you packed up what your tiny frame could carry and struck out on your own, leaving the only home you had ever known.

"C'mere." He beckoned you out of the shadow with one hand and stuck it back in his jacket pocket. "Y'r gonna freeze if you stay out here any longer."

Under normal circumstances, letting strange men call you towards them late at night was a death wish, but there was something deep in your gut that told you it was safe to trust him. Besides, anywhere had to be better than in an odorous alley behind a slimy bar.

You shuffled to your feet, gripping the threadbare blanket tighter around your shoulders. You were just about to outgrow it. The ragged edge barely touched the tops of your feet anymore. Despite the trusting feeling that had wedged itself in your mind, you kept one eye on the man as you hoisted your grimy backpack onto your shoulder.

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers, y’know," you said, cautiously getting closer to him.

"Yeah, well, you're also not supposed to be outside when it's 20 below."

You were now within arms reach of him. He lifted his arm out of his pocket, toward you. Instinctually, you flinched, using the backpack as a shield to cover you from any contact he might attempt.

"Relax, 'm not gonna hurt ya." He lifted his hand back in a surrendered position. "Just wanted to carry y'r pack for ya is all."

You peeked back around at him. Gingerly, you slid the backpack off your blanketed arm. You extended it to him, grip still secure on the strap. The man grabbed the other strap, but you didn't let go.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why’re you helping me?"

"'Cause I’mma bleedin' heart for the youth a tha nation, that's why," he retorted sarcastically.

You tugged the pack slightly back towards your chest. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his other hand. Letting go of the strap, he stuffed both hands back into his pockets.

"Listen kid, y' remind me of someone 's all. I just wanna make sure you’re taken care of." He shrugged.

You stared at him silently, assessing him. Delicate flurries of snow started to fall from the sky. They nestled gently on the tips of his tufts creating a light blanket. The icy fluff reflected in the harsh streetlamp, mimicking a halo. You looked into his eyes. There was a genuine sincerity in them. That trusting feeling was pulling at your conscience again.

“‘Kay… but I’m watching you, old man.”

It wasn’t a joke, but he gave a little chuckle and shook his head, amused. He mumbled something under his breath you couldn’t quite make out. Something about ‘christ’ and ‘regrets’.

“Whatever y’say, bub. You’re the boss here.” He started walking off down the street, expecting you to follow suit. You shrugged the heavy bag back onto your shoulder and started after him, slightly trailing behind him, just beyond his reach.

“So what’s your name?” You asked.

“Logan,” he said simply, not even bothering to look behind his shoulder.

Logan. It was a surprisingly mundane name. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t that.

“Just Logan?” If you were going to let the stranger lead you to an even stranger location, you should at least know his full name to give the police if things went south.

“Yeah. Kid, I don’t got all night. Get a move on.” He sounded annoyed.

But it was his fault you were tagging along in the first place, you thought. Whatever. 

You picked up the pace in a light trot to catch up with him, careful not to slide on the now-slick sidewalk. You were walking side-by-side with him now, but using up twice the effort to stay in step. Logan was tall, taking long strides to get to the unknown destination quickly. 

As you walked, you admired the frosty blanket beginning to layer the frozen city. Pale drifts of snow piling in corners glittered under bright street lamps, reflection shifting with every step. It may have been freezing, but even you had to admit, the untouched, pure snow was beautiful. The street was a silent beauty.

“So who is it?” You probed carefully.

“Hm? Who?”

“The person I remind you of. Who is it?”

“Oh, uh,” he started. “Her name’s Laura.” His voice softened at her name.

“Laura. Pretty. Is she your daughter?” Your intuition prompted you to ask.

“Yeah,” he replied shortly. Apparently, he was a man of few words. He let his head hang for a moment, watching his feet drag through the graying slurry. You watched as he inhaled sharply and lifted his head back up, staring straight ahead stoically, not paying you any mind.

The rest of the trip was made in freezing silence. You were still at his side, but slightly out of his arm’s reach. He was still a stranger, after all. It turned out his apartment building was only a few blocks from where you had been hunkered down. 

His keys jangled as he pulled them out of his pocket. The lock clicked open with a solid thunk. Warm, yellow light spilled out from the doorway onto the concrete steps and frozen metal railing. Logan gestured with his arm, prompting you to step in first. You didn’t like it when people stood where you couldn’t see them, but the comforting glow of the apartment was beckoning you in. He stepped through the threshold after you and shook out the snow that had nestled in his tufts of hair. They were starting to droop slightly as the snow melted in the warmth of his home.

He slipped his arms from his jacket and tossed it on a nearby table. You took in the space he called home. It was obvious that he lived here alone, a bachelor. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the plaid couch in the corner of the living room. Much like your blanket, it was becoming threadbare with pieces of stuffing starting to poke out from the arm rests. It was calling your weary, frozen name. You tore your eyes away to put together the rest of the space. A worn-in recliner propped toward a small television set, a coffee table covered in various newspapers, a few amber beer bottles and crushed aluminum cans. The space wasn’t grimy, just a little cluttered.

“Are y’hungry?” He was walking away, further into his home, toward the kitchen. You stood there, unmoving. It had been about three years since you had set foot in a nice, proper home. You were almost brought to tears.

“Yeah. Always.” 

Logan gave you a small smile and began pulling out ingredients.

You walked toward the kitchen, keeping your snow-crusted boots on and still bundled by your blanket and backpack. Though Logan’s home was exceptionally warmer than outside, the chill of the snow had taken root in your chest and had spread its way through your appendages. It would take you a while yet to thaw.

“How d’ya feel about grilled cheese?” The skillet was already warming on the stovetop and Logan had begun spreading butter across the two pieces of bread. Your mouth watered at the sight. The familiar pang of hunger ripped through your stomach. You almost wanted to tell him to nix the stove altogether so you could eat as soon as possible.

“I feel excellent about grilled cheese,” you said instead, gently tugging on one of the chairs at the small dining table. You sat cautiously on the edge of the seat. There were deep scratches gouged across the wooden tabletop. This was not typical wear and tear.

What on earth could have caused that? You wondered. Upon seeing the scratches, your over-active intuition strangely made you feel more at home. Apparently, there was more to this Logan guy than meets the eye.

He peeked at you from his peripheral vision, gauging your reaction to the gouges. You gave him a shrug. 

“Accidents happen,” you said, making yourself sink further back into the chair. You played it off as if the scratches were only a water ring made by an overly condensated glass sans coaster. Overcome with exhaustion and finally warming up, you decided to let yourself relax a little.

He smiled, like you had stumbled upon an inside joke he held only with himself. Though mostly humorous, the smile held a dash of contempt inside it.

“Yeah, somethin’ like that.”

Not knowing what else to say, you took in the rest of the apartment. The windows were covered with yellowing slatted blinds, chips and cracks scattered throughout. The checkered linoleum floor probably hadn’t seen a mop for months. You couldn’t judge him too harshly though. In fact, you weren’t in a place to judge him at all. He led you off the street with pure intentions and into a warm home. 

The delicious smell emanating from the stove curled its way to you, tugging at your already-growling stomach. Logan reached into the skillet and flipped the sandwich with his bare hand. It was not a delicate pinch at the corners and he didn’t even wince or make any indication that the sandwich was hot at all. Strange.

“How’d you do that?” Your curiosity got the better of you.

“Magic.”

“Magic isn’t real. C’mon, tell me how you did it,” you begged.

“How ‘bout this,” he started. “Let’s make a deal. You ask a question, I ask a question. A trade off.”

You weighed the pros and cons. If the only exchange for satiating your curiosity was him prying into your own life, you came to the conclusion that it would be worth it.

You realized you were desperate for somebody to want to care about you. All you had known for the past few years was solidarity and seclusion. You had been in a constant state of fight or flight mode ever since running away from your parentless home. You just wanted somebody to want to look after you again.

“Okay, deal.”

“Great. I’ll start.” He set the plated sandwich down in front of you and took the other chair at the table. It creaked as he sat, as if it were straining every splinter to carry his weight. He certainly had a sturdy frame, but he was not by any means a big man. Strange again.

“Thanks,” you finished. It came out flatly, but you were genuinely grateful.

“Y’r welcome, kid.”

Careful so as not to scarf it down too quickly, you held the golden, crispy sandwich delicately between your dirty fingers, pulling it apart. The hot, gooey insides webbed between the pieces. Logan watched you take the first bite, letting you savor the first real meal you’d had in who knows how long before he asked his first question. It was cheesy, savory bliss. You could have cried, it was so tasty. It trailed warmth down your torso as you ate, taking bigger and faster bites. Before you knew it, you were licking your greasy fingers clean.

“Want another?” Logan asked.

“Yes please.” You were still starving. “Does that count as your question?” 

He smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Does that count as yours?” 

“Guess not.” You smiled back at him, sheepishly.

He took out two more pieces of bread and began on sandwich number two. You could tell he had done this before, taking care of young kids. He had a paternal instinct and it showed. He was slightly standoffish, but not so much that it was completely awkward. There was no ulterior motive behind his actions, you felt he just truly wanted to take care of you.

“‘Alright, bub. Why are y’on the street?”

You knew this question was coming, and yet your heart still skipped a beat, soaked with anxiety.

“I sort of ran away, but it’s not what you think.” You paused, seeing if he would interject. He didn’t make an attempt, so you continued. “I didn’t run away because I wanted to. I ran away because I had to. My parents disappeared and the police started coming around and I didn’t want to-”

“Hold on,” he cut you off. “Your parents disappeared and your bright idea was to run away? That’s probably the stupidest thing you coulda done.”

Embarrassment and annoyance prickled your cheeks. Logan was still a stranger to you, but you felt oddly compelled to defend your actions, to make him see your side.

“Yeah, well it’s better than being an orphan and forced into foster care. Placed with a family who couldn’t care less about you than the dirt on the ground!” You shot back.

The apartment was suddenly more than warm enough. It was almost sweltering. You twisted your shoulder out from under the strap of the backpack and shrugged off the blanket, letting it fall behind you. You felt a little dizzy as your heart pounded, loud against your chest. You were already weak from scraping together food all the time. Burning sweat began to bead against your hairline and coat your palms.

Logan turned his back to you, facing the stove. “Still seems stupid t’me. How long’ve ya been livin’ like this?” His voice was muffled, like cotton balls had been shoved in your ears. 

Suddenly, a chorus of pounding, pulsing sounds arose and started to drown out everything else. It surged to such a volume, you instinctually pressed your hands against your ears in an attempt to dampen it. It did nothing. The noise was inside your head. There was no stopping it. Your vision started to blur and you blinked hard, trying to rid the fuzz and dizziness with no avail. You opened your mouth to yell and felt the muscles in your throat move, but you couldn’t tell if any sound escaped. Your conscience was slipping, but the grip of the noise wouldn’t let you go. It was only getting louder, more painful. 

You must have made some kind of sound because a fuzzy, Logan-shaped form was moving toward you, seemingly in slow motion. You were slipping out of the seat in pain. He caught you in his muscled arms, right before your head hit the ground. He was yelling something at you, but you couldn’t make out what it was. His lips were moving desperately, his eyes frightened.

Logan was the last thing you saw before your mind surrendered to the stress of the noise, finally descending into unconsciousness.

Your eyes tried to open, fluttering against the bright, white lights on the ceiling. It was too bright to open them fully, but you adjusted fairly quickly. The room was made of sleek metal with a circular door on the opposite wall. It wasn’t a hospital, but it had the feeling of one. It was more unfamiliar and eerily quiet aside from a monitor’s steady beeping. The bed you were laying in looked like it came straight out of an exam room. You looked down at yourself. A tube was sticking out of the crook of your elbow, drips of a translucent liquid sliding into your veins.

The pounding noise in your head had ebbed to a dull ache instead of the throbbing pulse it was before. How much time had passed between Logan’s kitchen and now? Where was he? Had he just abandoned you in this strange room by yourself? You felt your heartbeat quicken in anxiety and as it did, the ache grew stronger. There must be a connection between the two. You had so many questions and nobody was around to answer them.

Just as you were about to start freaking out, the round door opened with a swoosh, the panels disappearing into either side of the wall. You sat up, startled. An older bald man in a wheelchair, a smartly-dressed woman with deep red hair, and the slightly-more-familiar Logan came into the room. The pounding noise and your heartbeat slowed back to normal at the sight of him, but three more louder, of sync beats took its place. The noise got louder as they got closer. Wincing, you wanted to cover your ears, to prepare for the worst. You didn’t want to pass out again or have to endure the painful drumming against your head.

“Ah, welcome back to the world of the conscious,” the bald man said, getting closer to you. His physical voice could barely be heard above the noise, but it somehow reverberated in your mind. “You gave our Logan quite a scare. That is a very difficult thing to do.” There was a small, almost imperceptible smile on his lips.

You looked to Logan. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, still in the same outfit you last saw him in. Dark denim, white undershirt, boots. Maybe hardly any time had passed at all.

“Thanks… what happened?” You asked the trio. Your voice was hoarse from sleep. You couldn’t tell how loud, or quiet, you were being.

The woman reached over to the side table and poured a glass of water for you. Her face was beautiful and kind. She smiled sweetly at you. You took the cool glass from her and let the water soothe your throat.

“Your mutation began to manifest and you passed out,” she explained. Her lips were moving, but like the man, her voice echoed in your head, quieting the thrumming in your ears. “We aren’t quite sure what power your mutation will present itself as yet, but whatever it is, we’re here to help you.”

You looked from her to Logan, confused. The slight scowl on his face wasn’t encouraging.

“Where am I?”

“My dear, you are at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. I am Professor Charles Xavier and this is Jean Grey. Logan very wisely brought you here last night,” the man in the wheelchair said. “To our lab.”

Your eyes flickered between the strangers. The familiar feeling crept back into your gut. Your intuition told you he was telling the truth.

“If you’ll let me,” he continued with a soft smile. “I would like to utilize my mutation for your benefit. Jean and I are telepaths. I can enter your mind which might help us deduce what exactly your mutation is.”

No wonder you could hear their voices echoing in your head over the clashing, thrumming rhythms. They were projecting them into your mind.

You must have looked uneasy, because Jean placed a hand on your gown-covered shoulder, attempting to reassure you.

“It doesn’t hurt, but you will feel his presence in your mind. We just want to help you,” she said.

Again, you looked to Logan, anxious for his reassurance. Upon catching your eyes, his expression softened and he nodded slightly, giving you the go-ahead to let them help you.

You fiddled with the top sheet, nervous. It crinkled under your touch. Only hours ago you had been trying to survive the freezing temperatures alone in the dark.

They were all looking at you, expectantly. Without Jean or the Professor in your mind, the volume of the beats returned, still discordant with one another.

“Okay,” you agreed, meekly. You did not want a repeat of what happened last night. The pain was too much to bear again.

You watched the Professor close his eyes. He knit his brows together, slightly, in concentration. There was a mental push in your mind, like somebody was knocking on the door, asking to be let in. You obliged. As he began combing through the files of your brain, searching for answers to whatever your new-found ‘mutation’ might hold, you noticed one of the rhythms sped up a hair quicker. Logan’s scowl returned, eyes laced with concern.

Jean was right, it didn’t hurt, but it did feel a bit like an intrusion. However, you knew it was all for your benefit and would be for the best in the long run. You kept your eyes on Charles Xavier the entire time, hoping your own concentration on him would be helpful in some way. After a few, long, minutes, the Professor retreated from your mind and opened his eyes again.

“Well, my dear, it seems you have a mental ability as well,” he began. “You have the ability to hear heartbeats that are in close proximity to yourself, and in turn deduce the intentions of another person.”

“That’s what the pounding is? Heartbeats?”

“You can hear all three of ours currently, correct?” he asked.

“Yes.” For some reason, it felt like you were violating their privacy. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and your hands returned to folding the sheets between your fingers.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, you know. You’re special. Like us,” Jean said, smiling gently. She grabbed a metal clipboard with complicated-looking charts attached to it, flipping over the pages until she found the form she was looking for. She took the pen from behind her ear and jotted something down. You assumed it was a description of your ‘mutation’, or ‘power’, or whatever they call it.

“Why is this happening to me?” You asked quietly into the air, to nobody in particular. Your eyes were still trained on your nervous fingers. The burning in your face grew stronger, an angry red. Hot tears stung your waterline and the tip of your nose prickled with emotion.

Logan unfolded his arms, causing you to watch him through tear-filled vision cross the room and sit on the edge of your unfamiliar bed. His heartbeat grew louder as he got closer. You could see his lips moving, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. He looked at you expectantly, but all you could do was look at the Professor, silently asking for help. You watched him say something to Logan, probably telling him you couldn’t hear anything over the constant noise in your mind. The Professor closed his eyes again and again, the rhythms quieted to a hush. You looked back to Logan, the Professor still concentrating.

“You’re a mutant, kid. Simple as that,” he said, eyes full of tender but resolved concern. “But ‘m gonna take care of ya. Make sure y’r comfortable here.”

“H-here?” Your teary eyes went wide, your own heart speeding up anxiously. 

“Yeah, you’re gonna attend the school here with Jean an’ the Professor an’ me. You’ll learn how’da not let your power control you.”

“You’re a mutant too?”

“Especially him,” Jean cut in.

Logan gave her an irritated look, but raised both fists in front of his face. In a split second, long, metal claws shot out from between his knuckles into the open. You gasped. He carefully brought them down, letting you inspect them. You lightly pressed a delicate finger against the tip of one of the claws. It was freezing cold and razor sharp. A scarlet drop of blood fell from your fingerprint, staining the sterile sheet. He retracted the claws and you watched as the slits quickly stitched themselves back together.

It suddenly all became too much. The tears involuntarily spilled down your pink cheeks, overcome with the developments. Mutations, telepaths, claws … nothing made sense anymore. 

The quiet sobs wracked your small frame and as the emotions overtook you, the thrumming rhythms returned, making it all so much worse. Logan pulled you into his arms in a tight hug, pressing your head to his chest. His loud heartbeat was steady and strong. Reliable and solid. It overpowered everybody else’s rhythms, drowning them out. He let your tears soak through his once-pristine undershirt as you processed everything, his thumbs smoothing circles against your covered shoulder blades. You tried to focus on his grounding touch, tried to bring the tears to a halt. After what felt like an eternity, they finally slowed.

Finally, you pulled away from him. His heartbeat was still the only one you could hear. You looked around the metal room, swiping at your eyes. It was empty except for you and Logan. Jean and the Professor must have left some time ago, but you hadn’t heard their heartbeats soften.

He let go of you completely and picked up the chart Jean had been holding. He quickly scribbled something and flipped it to face you. ‘Feel better?’ he wrote.

You smiled and nodded, almost laughing at his solution to communication.

“Thank you, Logan,” you said. He only smiled in response, knowing you couldn’t hear him. “Now what?”

He held up a finger, asking for a moment, and reached toward the side table. He picked up a device that looked like a small disk, a couple inches thick. Pulling on either side revealed a metal wire that retracted back into the device when the disks were brought together again. The insides of the disks had padding in them. He brought it around behind your head and placed either end over your ears. 

Silence. Quiet. Peace.

You let out a sigh of relief. Logan’s pounding heartbeat was brought down to a manageable pulse. Even the rushing sound of the air conditioner and low hum of the electricity flowing through the lightbulbs couldn’t be heard anymore.

“Better?” He asked. 

You heard him! His voice was no longer fighting to be heard amongst the drum of his heartbeat. It was loud and clear. You burst into a smile.

“Yes,” you said, reaching back across the bed, wrapping your arms around his neck enthusiastically. He almost lost his balance against your grateful hug.

“C’mon, let’s go find Charles. Y’r gonna love it here.”

You let Logan lead you out of the lab and into the unknown for the second time in twenty-four hours. But this time it was different. You now knew that the trusting, gut-feeling you had about him was your mutation sensing his intentions all along. You knew he was going to make sure you were taken care of and continue to do so long into the future. It’s just the kind of man he is. The caregiver, the protector. He’s Logan.

[bunnliix]

The Siren on the Stage - Felix x Reader

This is fufilling the wish of my dearest @hongthoven, and I hope you enjoy it my dear Crys. <3 <3 (Also, my first time writing skz smut, so I hope it's good!)

Pairing: Stripper!Felix x Reader Summary: You're out with your best friend for her bachelorette party, and one of the workers catches your eye. wc: 2.8k AU: Stripper!AU Genre: Fluff/Smut warnings: smut MDNI, alcohol mentions, mentions of pre-gaming, people being kinda drunk, strip clubs? duh, cursing, Felix being a menace, I think that's it, smut warnings: handjobs, lots of hickeys, nipple play, and I think that's it nets: @mirohs-aurora-society

This definitely wasn’t a place you would normally visit, but you were here with your best friend, Sofie, for her bachelorette party. The club itself was very well decorated, the atmosphere definitely made the place alluring, never mind the handsome men that worked here. As the party of women made their way to one of the smaller stages in the club, you knew it was the start to a long night. Reaching the seating area around the smaller stage, you all sat down, on the left side of your friend, while waiting for one of the strippers to appear.

“Are you excited to see what handsome man performs for us tonight?” One of the other bridesmaids asked Sofie.

“Of course, but I can’t be too excited.” Sofie replied.

“C’mon, it’s one of your last nights as a single woman, you have to let loose a little bit. It’s not like you’re going to have sex with one of the guys here.” Another bridesmaid spoke up, her words slurring slightly since she had been drinking before they left for the club.

Before anyone could say anything further, someone slunk out from behind the curtains and separated the stage, capturing everyone’s attention. His hair was shoulder length, and reflected the lights, so you almost couldn’t tell what his actual hair color was, but once he stepped into the stage lights, you could see that it was a platinum blonde, almost white, color. He had on an outfit that accentuated every part of him, though it covered more than you would think a stripper would cover.

Despite that, it only made him more attractive to see him more covered up. The sheer sleeve that left his shoulder and the upper part of his arm exposed, the little part of his chest left uncovered by the cut out in the tank top he was wearing, you just couldn’t pull your eyes away from his figure. Before you realized it, the lights on the stage had dimmed, and he had started to walk around the stage, his gait sultry as he made his way to the pole, making eye contact with all of you as he walked around, his hand lightly gripping the pole as he started his dance.

You were mesmerized by him, you couldn’t peel your eyes away from him, he was like a siren, drawing you in. Your fellow bridesmaids and your friend were also losing their minds over the stripper as well. They were cheering him on and screaming out to him, while you sat silently, observing his every move. He felt your eyes on him, and as he came out of a complicated move on the pole, he made eye contact with you, winking before you quickly averted your eyes.

It seemed that your bestie noticed, nudging you in the side. “He’s interested in you. Maybe you’ll get lucky tonight.” She said to you, a little too loudly as the others looked your way, overhearing her words.

“I don’t think strippers take their clients home, nor do they fuck them.” You deadpanned, though internally, you wished he would. What you’d do to have one night with the man performing in front of you.

To your devastation, it wasn’t long before the male’s performance was over, and he strode over with a smile that lit up the world around him, seemingly the opposite of the siren he was during his performance, and it only made you want him more. You wanted to see more sides of this man who you saw for the first time not even half an hour ago.

“Are you ladies enjoying the show tonight?” He speaks to all of you, his eyes only flicking over to you once, making you pout internally.

“Oh we absolutely enjoyed it…” One of the others trailed off, obviously hoping that the man would give his name.

“Felix. It’s nice to meet you all.” He responded with his name, the charisma oozing from his every word and movement. It was almost like he was born to do this, to entertain.

“Felix, that’s such a pretty name.” A couple of the other women, at least one of whom you were sure was married, fawned over him, Though he didn’t really seem to pay them much, if any, attention. Instead, as the conversation went on, and you didn’t insert yourself into it, his eyes kept wandering over to you more and more.

He suddenly turned over to face towards your side of the seats, “You’ve been so quiet this entire time. Cat got your tongue?” He asked, becoming very cheeky.

“You were so entertained with the others, I didn’t want to interrupt your conversation.” You answered, keeping your response short.

“She was just jealous you weren’t paying attention to her!” Your best friend blurted out, as you winced.

“Oh, well don’t be too jealous. I’ll pay attention to you more now, so you won’t have to feel that way. We can even go somewhere more private if you want.” He said, moving closer to you as he did so, as you had to tilt your head up to look at him. He looked down at you, and you could see a mischievous, yet alluring look in his eyes, that only pulled you in more.

Your friend answered for you, once again. “She’d love that! She’s been staring at you all night.” Her answer caused you to look down, wanting to hide under a rock now that you’ve been exposed for your staring.

A delicate hand reached underneath your chin, tilting your head back up to meet Felix’s eyes. “Well, I guess I’ll have to fulfill your wish then, won’t I?” He said, looking down at you with those alluring siren-like eyes. All you could do was nod.

The blonde-haired man reached out for your hand, pulling you up to stand once he had grabbed a hold of one of your hands. He started walking away, tugging you behind him ever so gently, as another couple of men walked over to the bachelorette party to entertain them. He pulled you behind a curtain into a hallway, where you can see several other curtains hiding what you assumed were rooms behind them. You were proven correct when Felix pulled you into one of those rooms, making sure the curtains were pulled tightly. He led you to the couch that was situated towards the back of the room, guiding you to sit down as he stood in front of you.

Once again, a hand reached out to tilt your head upwards so that you were making eye contact once again. “Don’t look away from me darling. I want your gaze on me always, so keep watching me.” He tells you, a smirk appearing on his face.

You watched as he turned around, walking a short distance away from you before turning back around. He must have grabbed a remote in the room when you weren’t looking, as music started to play through the speakers in the room. He kept looking at you as he slowly slid his pants off to reveal that he was wearing shorts underneath, his gaze sultry and solely focused on you, like you were the only person in his world right now.

As he slowly strode back to you, you could see the sides of his shorts were mesh, allowing you just tiny peeks at the skin hidden by the material. You just stared at him until you heard him click his tongue. “I told you to keep looking at me, didn’t I?” You snapped your head back up to look at him, finding he was staring down at you with an eyebrow raised. 

Once he was sure you wouldn’t look away from him again, he moved right into your lap, shocking you. “I know you’ve been watching me since I walked out on that stage tonight, you couldn’t take your eyes off of me. Am I that mesmerizing?” He asked you, his voice deepening the longer he spoke. All you could do was nod, your voice seems to have disappeared.

“Cat got your tongue again, darling?” He questioned, knowing the answer, but wanting to hear your voice.

“N-no. I can speak perfectly fine.” You retorted, though it took effort to get the words out of your mouth. And you were glad that Felix hadn’t done his next actions while you were speaking. If he had wrapped his arms around you while you were talking, you would have choked. As it was, your eyes widened as he did so.

He chuckled, coming in closer to you, as you felt your cheeks heat up from the lack of distance. You felt unable to stare him in the eyes, so you averted your eyes, instead looking at his mouth. Noticing you staring at his lips, he intentionally licked them, making your struggle much harder. You really wished he would stop trying to kill you, you would like to live to see the sun tomorrow morning.

You felt his arm move, and suddenly fingers gripped your chin, stopping any attempts from you at moving your head. “Are my lips pretty, dear? Yours are beautiful too.” He said, his thumb rubbing your bottom lip, and you had to stop yourself from sucking his thumb into your mouth. You managed to hold yourself back, but Felix tilted your head up further, “I want to kiss you. Can I, darling?”

You only responded with a half-whispered, “Please.”

Felix leaned in, closing the gap between the two of you as your lips connected with his. His lips were soft, and despite his prior demeanor, he allowed you control, and you took it without thinking twice, your hand making its way up his back to rest on the back of the man’s neck. Using your hold on his neck, you kept him close as you took over the kiss, swiping your tongue across his bottom lip, being granted access almost instantly. The kiss seemed to go on forever, until Felix pulled away, as both of you needed air.

“Fuck darling, I might need you to kiss me forever if you kiss like that all the time.” He remarked after he got his breath back, his lips slightly swollen from kissing you, though they were such a pretty pink color you couldn’t help but stare at them instead of looking him in the eyes as you both recovered from that kiss.

Wrapping your with arm around his waist, and fuck he had a tiny waist, you pulled him just a tiny bit closer, but instead of going back for another kiss, your mouth attached to his neck, kissing and biting softly. The man didn’t expect it, and you didn’t expect the noises coming out of him as you attacked his neck and collarbone.

“F-Fuck, darling,” He said between heavy breaths, “please, more.”

You smirked into his neck, leaving darker and darker marks and hickeys where you were able to reach. You cursed his top as it left you limited amounts of skin to bite and kiss and suck on. As you moved from one side of his neck to the other, you took a moment to admire your work so far. It made you very satisfied to see how pretty he looked with hickeys covering his freckled skin.

After a couple minutes, you had finished your work on the other side of his neck, leaving him looking like he’d been mauled, but his face held a slightly dazed smile that showed that he enjoyed it.

“Are you good there, Felix?” You asked, slightly concerned despite the smile on his face.

“I’m just fine darling,” He replied, looking down at you. “I think you’ve covered a good amount of me in hickeys though.” He finished, chuckling.

You may have gotten a bit carried away, but when the pretty man reacted the way he did, could anyone blame you for carrying on? Before you could respond to him, he shocked you a bit by slowly pulling off the slightly intricate top he was wearing, leaving his chest entirely bare. Your eyes wandered the flawless skin that was hidden underneath his clothing, and found patterns and constellations of freckles that had been covered by his top. You found yourself tracing these patterns with your fingers, getting distracted before a cough pulled your focus away from his chest.

“Are my freckles that attention-grabbing, that you can’t help but focus only on them?” He teased you, as you looked down in slight embarrassment.

“I can’t help but look at every part of you because you’re pretty.” You mumbled out in response, still refusing to look at him.

You heard him chuckle from above you, before, for the millionth time it seemed, a hand lifted your head once again before he asked you, “Are you not going to finish what you started, love?”

Somehow you’re emboldened by his words, because you needed him to stop flustering you, and you push him down on the seat next to you on this couch, clambering on top of him and straddling his thighs. You don’t leave him any time to speak as you lean down, starting to leave a trail of kisses and bites on his collarbone and down his chest, peeking up to see that the man was staring at you, his eyes blown wide and focused solely on you and your actions. You felt his bulge slightly poking against your stomach, and smirked against his skin before pulling away and asking him, “Is someone a little excited?”

Felix’s face flushed, but his eyes never left yours as he nodded. You didn’t expect him to be so submissive, but honestly, it was adorable and the exact opposite of his stage persona.

“Do you want me to take care of it?” You questioned, to which you got an unexpectedly fast nod to. “I need words, Felix dear.”

“Please, darling,” He pleaded.

“Your wish is my command,” You said as you resumed your prior actions, biting and nipping at his chest as a hand snaked down under his shorts, surprised to find that he wore nothing underneath them. You wrapped your hand around his length, using the precum leaking out of the tip to make it easier to stroke him. You started out slow as you continued to nip and kiss at his chest, not wanting to rush, but the small thrusts of his hips made taking it slowly next to impossible.

“Please, darling. I need more,” he begged you.

You sped up the pace of your strokes, while you moved your mouth to his right nipple, lightly biting down as he arched up into you, a whimper falling out of his mouth.

“Darling please, I’m getting close, please I need more,” he said through moans, as he watched you though lust-filled eyes.

You continued your ministrations to his cock and his nipples, relishing in the sounds that he was making as you pleasured him. Every couple of strokes, you’d tease the tip of his cock, and every time you did, it brought him closer to his release.

“Darling, please, I’m so fucking close. Just a little more,” He told you, groaning as your grip got just the tiniest bit tighter. It was only a couple more strokes before Felix came on your hand, and in his shorts. As he did, you kept softly stroking him through his orgasm, as you pulled your mouth away from his nipples and finally observed your work. The Australian man looked absolutely wrecked, his eyes blown wide and his chest and torso were covered in marks from you, but fuck he looked amazing like that.

“I didn’t think you would be like this darling, but I can’t find myself regretting any of this.” Felix told you after a couple of moments, needing a small amount of time to get his brain working again, as well as to get his breath back.

“I didn’t think my night would end up like this, but I don’t regret it either. And it’s all because you were like a siren on that stage, drawing me to my death. Though in this case, I think my death is quite amazing.” You laughed as you moved off of him, letting him sit up. Though instead of staying upright, he pushed you over so the two of you laid down with him on top of you.

“Let’s stay here for a little while. No one will know I’m missing,” he said, trying to convince you and completely forgetting he was technically pinning you to the couch/seats.

“Well since you’re laying on top of me, I can’t really say no, can I?” You replied, your question being completely rhetorical.

“No you can’t.” He said, not wasting any words. And that is how you two spent the next couple of hours, until you were found by one of Felix’s coworkers.

“Really, Felix? I’m never going to be able to use this room again now that you’ve been fucked in here.” Hyunjin complained.

“Fuck off, Hyunjin.”

Taglist: @callmeghostly @bethelighthalazia @rems-writing (since y'all are thirsty for Stripper Felix)

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

ROLES REVERSED.

tangerine x fem!reader — fluff/ comfort

summary. as the eldest daughter, you’re used to taking care of others. tangerine notices, and wants to be the one to care of you.

requested by @sdddoobydoobydoo here <3

word count. 1186

warnings. couple blood mentions. no established relationship

As the eldest daughter, you're naturally gifted with traits that stem from your role as the second parent: the ability to help and care and nurture and understand and peacekeep in ways most will never.

You appreciated your broad span of empathy, loving how easily and seamlessly you could help others. But it was tiring, and yet, it all you've ever known.

It was normal for you to sit on the back burner when it came to getting care, always being the one to give and never receive. It was why Tangerine took your interest more than any other guy before.

It was like all he wanted was to tend to you, love and care for you - do things for you. Something about him was so unlike the other men in your life; they'd let you exhaust yourself for them, let you work yourself silly, but that was not Tangerine. That's not the man he is.

He noticed how you seemingly always knew what to do, all this infinite wisdom and knowledge swirling inside your poor, tired mind. Anytime he was snappy, you'd assume he was hungry - heading into the kitchen to whip something up for him, or if you were public, always offering to buy him lunch. Anytime he stopped past yours, all battered and bruised, you'd fetch things from around your house to patch him up - wanting to mend him as fast as possible. Anytime he had that distant look in his eyes, you'd always sit him down - suggesting that he talk his problems over with you.

You always seemed to know what he needed - what anyone needed. And while he appreciated your simple, loving and, albeit, persistent gestures, he knew you needed the same treatment. Maybe even, more so.

He wanted to give you that care you give to everyone else, though he didn't want to step over the romance line. Well not yet, anyway.

Tangerine was over yours for the evening, the casual hangout designed for dinner. He had previously made you promise to keep it small, to not go overboard with the food. Though, when you started cooking the meals, you could not seem to stop - all the prior dishes making you question if it would be something he even liked at all. So, in your mind, preparing four different meals to choose from would be a safe bet.

"Sit down, would'ya? Stop faffing," Tangerine calls out to you in the kitchen, his arse parked on a dining seat you had previously directed him to.

"I'll be five minutes, ten max— shit... think we're looking at fifteen."

"You gonna let me help you?" he questions, getting ansty from his unhelpful sitting. He wanted you to let him help. "Give me something to do."

"Got it all covered," you call out, poking your head through the door to see him. You were frazzled, and you took on more than you could handle.

His head tilts softly, a faint tut of his mouth letting you know he didn't buy your lies. "Oh yeah?" he entertains your fib, eyes playful. "What was that all that swearing for then?"

You look down at your bleeding finger and subtly move to hide it - putting it out of Tan's view. "Dropped my teatowel," you shrug. "Pasta is almost cooked— so uh, that's good. Okay, then. Just pick at the bread there. Will be done soon."

You head over to one of your cupboards and search for something to stop the bleeding, a plaster hopefully. But all you can find is a lonely, crumpled-up one in the crack —all your others going to Tangerine's cuts and scrapes— and you sigh. Picking it up, you attempt to unwrap it, but your bloodied finger makes you lose your grip.

"You alright?" Tangerine asks, his stealth-like walk peeking up on you from behind. "What you doing?"

"Yeah," you hum, looking at him over your shoulder. "Just waiting for this water to boil," you partially lie, nodding to the pot on the stovetop.

"You're a shit liar," he scoffs in his usual way, walking to get closer to you. "What have you done?" he asks, voice reaching a pitch that can only indicate worry, his eyes glued to your finger.

"It's just a cut. It's fine— it'll stop in a minute," you deflect, acting casual as you fiddle with the wrapper, still trying to open it.

He shakes his head and inhales harshly, reaching for the plaster in your hand.

You protest, tightening your grip. "It's alright, I got it."

He shakes his head again, clearly displeased. He loosely holds under your hand, guiding you towards the sink, where he directs it under the water - trying to stop the bleeding quicker.

"Seriously, it's okay. I'll put—"

"Just," he interrupts, tone pointed, though it holds no malice. "Let me help you for chrissake."

You close your mouth with a snap, his comment halting any further dismissals.

He holds your finger under the warm, flowing tap, watching the water turn slowly from a soft orange and back to clear. He's quiet, silently taking care of you in the ways he's almost longed for. The moment when you finally allow his help - all of it feeling like a small step forward.

He reaches for a piece of kitchen paper and wraps it around your finger, drying it with his gaze focused down.

"Why won't you let me help you?" he asks quietly, his question cutting through the comfortable silence. It sounded like it was weighing heavy on his mind.

"What do you mean?" you question, unsure what he meant.

He glances up to look at you, head cocking to the side. "Come on," he chuckles faintly. "You know what I mean."

"I do let you help."

He's amused, or so you think. He was too hard to read. "Hardly… I want to do things for you. I want to help you. Why won't you let me?"

You pull your hand away and hold the paper compress by yourself - feeling embarrassed from his mild ridicule. "I always have it covered, that's all," you shrug. "I don't need help."

He could tell you were shutting yourself off, though he's adamant not to let that happen. "I ain't gonna disappoint you, you know that?" he says, words firm, but they were filled with something far softer: unexpressed, repressed love. "You look after everyone else... I want to look after you."

A soft frown-like smile lines your lips, and you finally look up to meet his eyes. He really meant it.

"Just give me a piece of cucumber to cut or a towel to fold— something," he attempts a joke - trying to lighten the mood. "Just let me be useful to you, yeah? Let me in."

You nod, even more progress.

"Good," he nods back, a faint grin spreading across his face. He reaches for the plaster, opening it as if it were nothing and grabs your hand - carefully holding your finger. "Now let's cover this fucker up before it gets all over your pretty top, hm?"

so independent reader coded

[thewriterg]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧’ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 chp.1

pairing(s); simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader, johnny ‘soap’ mactavish x fem!reader, kyle ‘gaz’ garrick x fem!reader, john ‘bravo six’ price, werewolf!soap, harp crow hybrid!gaz, dragon hybrid!price, wraith!hybrid (?) ghost, phoenix!hybrid (?) reader

summary; new recruits, questions, and a bag of tricks

warning(s); monster au, dark twisted themes, normal cod violence, firearms, knives, combat, pinning (?), poly themes, death, r call sign is flatline, blood consumption, eventual smut, kissin, and language

A/n; my toxic trait is starting a new series before finishing my other ones 😊 | chasin chaos masterlist

“Sergeant Mactavish, Werewolf.” The brunette held his hand out clawed fingers reaching about for the lieutenant who barely spared it a glance before looking back towards his sergeant and captain who smirked or started back at him smugly your presence lacking completely which was uncommon even if you weren’t meeting the eye he could feel your presence today it was gone but he temporarily stopped himself from dawning on it while words spewed from his lips

“Where’d you find this guy?” The gruff voice drizzled over the sassy reply made Gaz bight back a chuckle

“At the end of a rainbow” The harpy replied smartly his arms crossed over his chest feathers lying delicately over the surface of his forearms slightly lighter than the ones on his back where his wings sat it’s trail coming curtly to an end when it reached his the front of his wrist that damned fitted cap resting around his head in its common home ground talons tapping one of the many quills the sound almost sounding if he were thunking a table having his feathers harden on command just for the sake of it a quirk you could say

“Worth his weight in gold mind you” Price offered eyes not looking up from some type of notes he were reading over thick pear and moss mixed green colored horns sitting adorned on his well kept hair curling slightly forward and up Ghost could tell he was wearing an older shirt since there were two holes cut out instead of one for his stray wing that still sat strong spar bones matching the color of his horns and furless tail while the mainsail resembled a more dirty rag cream color

“They said it not me” Soap grinned mock waving off the compliment quirking the damned thick bushy brow of his the only one with a slit slicing right through the point of the arch while the hulking man sighed heavily dragging a hand over his covered face balaclava with a simple print of his actual hard mask a skull

“Fuckin’ hell… you follow orders?” The muffled voice was not a mere obstacle for the hybrid to hear the slight pointed ears on the side of his face doing their job well to listen

“I well trained if that’s what you’re asking. Sit, stay, paw, jump, roll over, I know ‘em all.” The brunette looked off mocking a ponderous expression counting off on his fingers the canines in his mouth slightly showing even though they were retracted

“Real bag of tricks, aren’t you?” The instinct in the sergeant perked up as you suddenly trailed beside ghost surprised that he hadn’t been able to pick up your presence or at least your scent quicker like he had with Ghost especially since they were so… different not having a face to match with your cooled voice since it seemed you also favored a balaclava yours simply plain black yet he didn’t mind just gave him two sheets to play at once…

Raking eyes over your figure the man determined you were a looker for sure yet he didn’t miss how the other silently agreed

“My apologies miss, I dinae get your name” Soap stated a now gentle smile resting on his face that you seemingly ignored accent seeping through a little more and as more time went on the more he could smell the authority coming from you and Ghost it was a little less than Price yet more than Gaz and the other recruits around base

“Depends who you ask. What’s the role you’ve had in your pack?” You questioned eyes low that he could see through the gap in your mask where your sight shone through staring him down almost as if you could see right through his soul yet he kept his quirky grin Mohawk stopping just below the base of his neck a small piece of stray hair lying against his forehead thick fluffy tail perking up slightly swaying against the back of his thighs cargo pants dipping in the back just below his tail

“I’ve been in a few packs could be an alpha, beta, omega if you wanted me to… but I seen you have your roles sorted. I’ve got no problem bein’ ah pup miss” You roll your eyes at that while the brunette winks you swiftly trail away dragging Ghost away with you picking up Price on the way while both men let you drag them along their hulking figure’s towering over your back boots slightly thumping against the floor before your figures disappear within the halls he turns to the crow who’s fiddling with the screen of his phone

“You ever feel left out of somethin’?” Soap questions and Gaz suddenly stands a small smirk on his face as he rakes his eyes over the wolf before shaking his head

“There’s enough for everyone to get their fill, you’ll be next soon enough” Without an explanation the sergeant was already trailing away opposite of where you had gone leaving him alone

But never for too long

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“It’s rude to stare sergeant” Ghost grunted gruffly after jamming his janky locker shut barely giving Soap enough time to look at his shadows slipping from under his glove some looking like it was traveling farther up almost resembling veins while the rest began to make a small cloud on his wrist until he shoved his sleeve over the sight unapologetic about the whole thing barely looking over his shoulder to acknowledge the wolf as he stood behind him

“Just tryin’ ta figure you out, Lt.” He grins tail becoming livelier as it perks up behind his back before it reluctantly lowers still up and lively

“I’m well traveled, seen a lot of things, met a lot of people. Never smelt anythin’ like you… or Flatline for that matter” A slightly clawed finger rests curled on his chin tail gently flapping up and down it had been a little over a week since he was recruited it didn’t take long for him to find out your name or call sign that might have well been your name since no one seemed to know it just by the brief description of eerie, bold eyes, and a mask to cover you face, he got the answer of either Ghost or Flatline

“Hell of a compliment soldier” The blonde resorts almost sarcastically finally looking over his broad shoulder to lock eyes with the brunette and he waves him off finally stepping closer to the skull mask wearing man deciding by his side was the best place to stand and if he noted the smoke trying to spill from his pockets where he had his hands shoved deeply he didn’t say anything about it

“Och, you know I dinnae mean it that way. Can’t blame me for bein’ interested, I never packed with a wraith hybrid before… or a phoenix thought they were bedtime stor-”

“Not hybrids” Ghost cuts off the scott before he can dig any deeper and he furrowed his eyebrows questioning if he had heard right if his ears were failing him or not with a small ‘what’ spilled from his lips

“We’re not hybrids.”

“No shit? What the hell is tha’ like?” Swiftly Simon was in front of him eyes bold yet precise slicing right through him while Johnny’s gaze slightly widened at the quick movement his boots not even so much a squeaking against the ground a bit of the air currents flowing against Soaps slight shorter form

“You ever shut up Mactavish?” He somewhat seethed and the wolf was back to sly grin in less than minute, the grin that showed his canines in the full well kept facial hair adorning his structure even more, the grin the wraith wanted to wipe of his fucking face to be exact.

“Only when people make me.” Soap implied looking up slightly to address his superior with a voice that would make other feverish or peely in his terms that damned drunken grin still on his lips while Ghost practically stared him down eyes slightly squinted thoughts brewing behind those sharp, precise eyes of his that the Scott couldn’t wait to hear of tail swaying behind him with a bit more speed than before but of course his Lt. was a tease and put all his weight on one foot to turn walking out of the locker room without so much a grunt but he liked the chase

And so did superiors

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“It’s an in and out mission that I’m sure you could do on your own, however I don’t need higher ups on my ass about favoritism. You’ll grab a few normals and head Midwest in the states to Chicago. One out of three missiles resigns with one of the biggest weapons busts in America that’s supposedly on its way over to Russia package delivery for a friend of ours… Makarov.” The air in the room shifted at the name drop of a once friend fallen foe even though You and Prices shoulders were up at the mere mention of Russia itsself you had a love hate relationship with meeting room as you got passed a file over things you truly didn’t need to go over things that a rookie could even fill in the blanks for

“This will either be the easiest sail of your life or your standing on the line of death, you all know your first priority even though I know you don’t want to hear it. Push come to shove the normals go first.” The older short cut haired woman looked at You, Price, and Ghost especially Soap noticed it confused him at first the wraith and phoenix at least, two lieutenants in such a small base or at least a small base that wasn’t Air Force but it made sense to him shortly after when he peeked in on occasional training sessions thought out a week You and Ghost switched groups between normals and weaker hybrids both favoring one group more than the other deep down and then at the end of the week bring them together to spar

“Wheels up at 04:00 tomorrow I’m sure you’ll have your picks by then.” Laswell sighed looking around the table for any objections your sitting between Soap and Gaz while Price and Ghost are sitting on the opposite side of the rounded table one of your legs are crossed under your form while the other is propped up you have your arms wrapped around it and your covered chin is lying on your knee and without another word she grabbed her laptop and exited room something about a ball and chain to her desk

The wolf and harpy are first to get up from their seats and the winged hybrid doesn’t go before gently brushing his fingers against your arm migrating towards the exit even though he’s stopped shortly by a shit eating grin and swaying tail conversation quickly taking place between the two

“So, what do you think?” Price hums both him and Simon approaching your seat as you began to stand rolling your shoulders eyes low beneath your mask it was still early in the day only 13:27 you had a training group normals at 14:15 sharp anyone who was a minute late got to run laps around base even if they weren’t hybrids or the ‘superior’ race in the field you couldn’t determine if you were fighting a hybrid or a normal and if you babied them because they were weaker than a super they wouldn’t have a fighting chance against one.

“He asks a lot of questions” Ghost responds curtly while the older man takes no offense to it producing a chuckle from the back of his throat taking out a cigar from his breast pocket in his vest holding out the thick brown lump filled with nicotine out to the blonde who responded by taking out a silver lighter snapping the cover back quickly as it produced a flame its front covered by an ace card with its main attraction being a skull the drug lights aflame a small hissing sound coming from it when the salt and pepper haired hybrid took a drag

“Comes with the package. Wolves don’t like uncertainty in the pack dynamic.”

“He knew you and Gaz before he transferred, didn’t he?” You spoke up squinting your eyes at your captain eyelashes mere meters away from kissing your cheek standing the only way he could get a read on you and Simon he usually says ‘those eyes can tell you everything and nothing all at once, just gotta watch em.’

“Yes, but you’re both hell of a new variable” Price admits before smugly nudging your shoulders with his strong single wing while Ghost crossed his arms over his chest you roll your eyes stepping away from the pair

“Save your verdicts until you see him in action, he’s a vision in the field.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Hey… how yall doing 😅

I haven’t posted since October I missed you writers!

Ermm I’m a year older —Nov 8th— happy belated birthday to me

And that’s about it 😭

[starry622]

Please Help Out a Homeless and Disabled Trans Man (URGENT)

unfortunately, i, too have to extend my paw for money. at the ripe age of 19.

i have been functionally homeless for over a year, but ive managed to stay off the streets due to who i once thought was a kind and caring family member, but he has finally said the quiet part out loud:"im sick and tired of you being here, im gonna have to kick your ass out". hes given me a very rough estimate of just longer than a week, though i think i can extend my stay a little longer than that.

once im out, ill have no money, no shelter, and ill be stuck in the middle of nowhere. i cannot work a normal job due to disability, so i cant make money in that way. Anything at all helps.

i am unable to make a gofundme, as i dont own a phone, and he will not provide me with one, but i accept donations via paypal <-link if youll notice, it is a business account, and this is because i take commissions. if youd rather pay me in exchange for art, you can message me.

for visibility, here is the full link:

more info under cut:

even if i were allowed to stay, this family member has not been the best person to live with, put lightly. He does seem to really care, but hes old-fashioned. hes also once taken advantage of me and has also forced me to conform to my agab, which includes forcing me to shave and pressuring me to stop taking my testosterone, to the point where he wont pay for it if i dont promise to wean off of it. i would much rather be anywhere else, if i had the choice. and soon, i wont have a choice on the matter.

i dont have a specific amount of money in mind, there is no specified goal. i will have to go back to my mother, and i will have to live with her on the streets, as she is also homeless, though shes seemingly on the brink of getting an apartment that i will be allowed to live in, if she can get it before someone else does or before the process has to be renewed.

i will mainly use the money for my healthcare needs (testosterone) as well as for food and hopefully housing, if i make enough to help with that.

its okay if you cant donate, but please share if possible. i dont want to be back on the street, alone, and in a city im not familiar with. even just a little bit could help me cover the cost of going back to the city i once lived in and reuniting with my mother, who will undoubtedly help me more than anyone will ever know.

[akiswife1237]

AMORALITY

When the king of curses stuns himself by falling for someone who represents everything he's not.

This will be a series! I'll try to update frequently but again, tag if you want to join the ride!

tw: smut, violence, mentions of violence, angst,

true form sukuna, this also takes place in the lovely heian era

This story will kind of go backwards LOL, it starts with Sukuna being a confused simp and then it delves more into the angst hehehe

Again, I'm not religious at all so heavily religious ppl i mean no harm or disrespect! there's no specific religion mentioned as well

The sky was adorned with an intense blue, the clouds scattered all across as they hover over the blossoming flowers that have grown beautifully over time. The warm wind blew gently over the grass and you smiled peacefully as you tended to the community garden in front of the church.

Your, church.

Due to the good deeds you had done for your village and decently populated community, the people decided to appoint you as their priest. Someone who would spread the word of their god, someone who would provide wisdom and comfort, and someone who was pure.

You thought the task too heavy at first, but afraid to let down the people who relied on you, you gave in.

Things got easier over time, and you performed just as everyone expected of you; you gave them everything they needed and more. It was the least you could do for the people who adored you so dearly. 

As you continued to tend to your garden, you halted in tilting your watering can when you felt a strong aura behind you, it was so heavy that you could feel it all throughout your body, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as you froze in place.

As you fought against this unknown feeling, you forced your self to turn around, your eyes widening when you saw an absolute beast of a man standing in front of you.

He was as tall as ever, definitely taller than 6 feet, thats for certain. His well-kept and muscular body was nearly covered in what seemed to be tattoos? You couldn't tell. But what caught your eye the most was the two pairs of arms that he had, one pair was seemingly ready to strike you as the other hands on his lower arms rested against his hips. He did little to cover himself, and you didn't fail to notice the presence of a mouth near his abdomen as well.

Craning your head upward, you were met with crimson-red eyes—no, multiple crimson-red eyes staring down at you—and the pink-haired man's face wore a slight scowl.

Despite looking like a beast and a half, you couldn't deny that, despite his unique qualities perplexing you, he was indeed handsome. 

Sukuna had been busy traveling from his fruitless missions and was as irritated as ever. Though the reward had been heavy in gold and luxuries, the requests he took on were pretty much useless and resulted in him just burning the shameless town to the ground.

He needed something else to satisfy him, and fast.

As he headed north, deep in thought, he suddenly paused, a wicked grin painting his face when he remembered just what was in the town he'd be passing through.

A church.

He had heard from passerbys that the priestess's there were absolutely divine, hopeful, and represented purity itself.

He couldn't wait to ruin them. Perhaps he'd kidnap one after the mass slaughter, if he felt generous enough.

He had nearly made it to the entrance before pausing when he saw someone outside, his wicked grin only growing wider.

Perfect, his first victim.

As he drew closer, he suddenly paused when the priestess tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He now had a full view of her face, which made him freeze once he got a good look at it. 

He felt a sudden rush in his chest, his heartbeat quickening the longer he stared. The rush he felt wasn't the normal one he had; it wasn't one of adrenaline, but one of... surprise? 

He was stunned, to say the least.

He tried to ignore this feeling and drew closer to the priestess, he had his own mission after all, but he couldn't deny the foreign feeling sitting heavy in his chest.

He was now behind you and just as he was about to strike, the priest' instincts suddenly kicked in and she turned around to meet his gaze.

He scowled when he realized he couldn't come as quietly as he hoped, oh well, he was never good at being subtle anyways.

The moment your eyes met, though, he couldn't move, he felt his world slowing down and he gulped as he stayed in place, the scowl still on his face.

Your innocent eyes batted up at him with confusion and your lips parted so perfectly that it was enough to turn his brain into mush. It didn't help that the sunlight highlighted all of your beauty perfectly.

You were unlike anything he's ever seen before, absolutely breathtaking...

...What was he here to do again?

an: that's chapter one! stay tuned for chapter two hehehe, again comment to be part of the tag if you want to be updated !!

tags: @getossluttt @busyreader17 @scarasluvvr @unknown5029 @koshii-meji @genderfluidnuggettt @sterzin

[lightofthemoonglow]

kinktober day seven and eight

Virginity | Waxplay | Stuck in Wall

Breeding | Gore | Master & Slave

third person reader because that is how it turned out oops

Sequel here

Thomas Hewitt

The day had finally come.

The wedding dress is older than the bride. The bride is considered an adult in every part of the world, in basically every sense. And yet she still wears a dress that Luda Mae had brought for herself a long time ago, back when she had hopes for a whole other life that had never come to pass. It’s obvious why she’s doing this, but it’s harmless in comparison to everything else about the situation.

One interaction had been all it had taken for this deal to be worked out. The bride had come from a family of carnival workers that had passed through Travis County that had decided to stick around, her mother becoming friendly with Luda Mae despite the two of them living seemingly very different lives. All the girl had done was shyly ask Tommy about his job at the slaughterhouse as she offered him a bowl of the chili she had brought over. This was some good meat. I bet you had something to do with it. And Luda Mae had noticed the shift in her son’s body language, how he wasn’t as on guard as he normally was for a moment.

It had started as joke between the two mothers. And then they had started seriously discussing it. It made sense. The pool of candidates was already small and neither of their children were exactly…popular. The bride had struggled to finish school after fighting tooth and nail to get in. Thomas had dropped out. Their families were already close. And then, the tornado happened, killing the bride’s father. It was as good a time as any, they had figured. The town was dying slowly, the writing was on the wall. They needed to make it happen before the bride left town for good.

And so, they had wound up in the backyard of the house, the town preacher pronouncing the young couple man and wife, on edge due to the gun that Charlie had aimed at him, ready to pull the trigger if this marriage wound up not being true in the eyes of the lord. While he didn’t believe in that shit, Luda Mae did and his sister’s word was law in their home. The bride was a vision in antique white, her voice trembling as she said ‘I do’. Thomas only grunted in response, Charlie snapping ‘the boy damn well does!’ when the preacher tried to get the larger man to speak.

“I’m glad it’s you,” Luda Mae says to the bride after the cake has been cut and everyone is milling about the yard, the preacher nowhere to be seen. He would never be seen again, but no one would notice or care. “You always had a kind word for my boy.”

And for the first time since her hesitantly uttered vows, the bride speaks. “Of course. He’s a good boy. This was all just a little fast, Mrs. Luda Mae.” But that was intentional, something she would realize later. The mother of the bride had all but dragged her down the aisle. The woman had cried, wailed as she told her daughter that she need to do this, so she could be taken care of, implying that it wouldn’t be long until the bride’s parents were reunited.

After the party, the happy couple was led upstairs, where they were to stay all night. “I want a grandbaby by next spring,” Luda Mae instructed. It wasn’t the wistful dreaming of a woman who yearned to more little ones to spoil. Well, it was, but her tone was that of an order. They were going to grow the family, one way or another.

The room was dim, the sun peeking through the curtains. Thomas makes no move to take off his mask, choosing to just stare at his new wife as she walked towards the bed. The dress is pulled off, revealing a white slip covering her everyday undergarments. She folds it up, so it can be put away in the morning. Maybe it will even be used again one day. The sun shines down on her as she lays on the bed, waiting for him to join her.

“It’s alright. If you…want to.” She speaks softly, not approach him too closely. “I know your mama said that we have to, but I can wait.” Thomas is staring at her, watching her legs twitch slightly, fascinated by the dark peaks on her chest. Her breathing is steady, she’s not looking for an escape. Her eyes are meeting his whenever he allows it. Thomas knows what to do. He’s seen farm animals do it and Charlie had shown him a movie once, short and filthy. Luda Mae had found out about it and been cross for weeks.

The real thing is different. Thomas feels almost cornered as he tentatively touches the hem of the slip. His fingers graze her bare skin and he flinches, which makes her sit up and grab his hand.

“It’s alright, it’s alright,” she coos, stroking his hand with her thumb. “Tommy…I know neither of us exactly wanted this to happen. But if it had to be anyone, I’m glad it was you. I’ve always liked you.” His face didn’t matter to her, she didn’t care that he had to hide what had been eaten away by the sickness inside of him. He wasn’t going to kiss her, he couldn’t get to that point. Not yet.

They needed to do what was expected of them first.

It takes a while, the sun is almost gone when Thomas is finally ready to get on top of her, still mostly dress, only his nice trousers unzipped. She’s naked, comfortable with allowing him to see, to explore. Her body is warm, soft, and he’s so hard it hurts until he pulls it out of his trousers. But he doesn’t put it in, not yet. He can’t quite manage that last little bit of movement, not yet.

“It could happen, Tommy. Us havin’ a baby because of tonight.” She strokes his arm, not touching his face, not until he’s ready. And maybe that won’t be tonight. “I like the idea. Go on and feel how much, darlin’.” She spreads her legs slightly to let him know he could touch her. His prodding fingers found something warm and wet, and when he pushes, a finger slips inside. “It’s good when it’s wet like that. Means I’m excited. Like you are now.”

Another fingers joins the first and she gasps, but she doesn’t stop him. “We could make a baby tonight. You and me…” The images start coming to Thomas as he fingers explore her. His wife’s belly swollen with their child, her tits full of milk, everyone knowing that she belonged to him and only him-

He’s inside of her before he can stop himself. She gasps, grabbing onto his shoulders as his cock fills her up. Her breasts bounce as he thrusts, slow and experimental at first. “Good boy, good boy,” she whispers, her body suddenly filles with sensations she’s never felt before. Thomas is equally overwhelmed, she’s so warm and wet and good and hot and everything he’s ever wanted. She’s gripping onto him tightly, he’s in awe of the sight of himself inside of her.

Thick fingers stuff his seed back inside of her after he’s done, and he prays for the first time in years that it worked.

[wolven91]

Good Trade

"That was someone's passport!" Shouted Nate, storming into his room, his breath ragged from impotent rage.

"Saah, calm." Urged the fik as he stepped into the human's quarters. A clawed hand found Nate's shoulder and gently drew him into the furred chest of the fik warrior. The human was shaking, adrenaline and anger still pumping through his chest to the point he could feel his heart shuddering, skipping beats.

"Saaaaah..." Murmured the warrior. The fik, Yiktar, was not a medically inclined fik, nor was he a negotiator. He was a warrior, his specialty was causing vicious injuries and threatening uncooperative folk those injuries if they didn't comply with the demands of the clan.

The pair of them had just returned from a trader vessel, one that had taken one look at Nate and produced a tiny booklet with a crest on the front. Inside, a small picture of an unknown human stared back from the protected page.

The trader had immediately demanded a ridiculous price or a trade of more human memorabilia for the booklet.

Nate had to leave, his chest had gotten tight and he'd started to feel lightheaded.

Yiktar ushered the young man to his bed; a giant thing that was more for one or two of the fiks to curl up with Nate in the bed as well than a piece of furniture just for him .

"Hai, breathe Nate, yes?"

Nate nodded and breathed in through his nose, held it, then slowly let it out. He was already calming down, distressed as he was from seeing something so important, relegated to the breast pocket of an ursidain blood sucker.

Nate had to remain calm. His heart just wasn't strong enough to handle prolonged bouts of stress. If it skipped too many beats, then he'd be in even more trouble than just being upset about a passport.

"Saaah, there... Is good. Yes?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm okay Yik. I'm sorry for-"

"Hai! No. No sorry. Nate do nothing, Nate react... normal. Yes? Yes." Yiktar stated, asking himself a question and answering it just as well. Nate merely smiled and a single chuckle worked its way free of his chest.

"Why do you do that?" Asked Nate, smiling up at the fik, despite him crouching at the edge of the bed.

"What? Do what?" The older bipedal rat asked, his nose and whiskers twitching in genuine curiosity.

"Ask yourself a question and answer it?" Pointed out the human, feeling much better already.

"Sah! Simple. If one wants good conversation. One must look for intelligent ones for conversation. Yiktar need not look far, only as far as reflection." Yiktar explained, as if explaining something simple or obvious. Nate couldn't help but laugh, grinning up at the grizzled warrior who merely took on a look of mock hurt.

"Sah! Betrayer! Wounder!" Accused Yiktar with a wide grin, pleased with the fik's ability to distract the fragile human.

That distraction was short lived as the human's quarters opened to let in the clan ermin, a small army obviously filling the corridor outside, hushing one another to allow the ermin to talk.

"Sah, may I enter, young Nate?" Asked the white furred fik, leaning on a staff that she didn't quite need yet.

"Of course, you never need to ask Seer." Replied the human, who had the urge to shuffle off the bed, but the ermin, seemingly knowing what he wanted to do, gestured for him to stay sat down. She crossed the room with ease, sidestepping the coffee table despite having no eyes. Both having been replaced with nasty looking scar tissue years before Nate appeared.

"The clan has something that they wish to return to you." Rumbled the seer, before raising a hand and showing a small booklet, pinched between her claws.

"The passport? How could you-" But Nate's words died on his lips. The crest on the front of the passport, previously gold, was partially covered in red.

The ermin twitched, turned the booklet over, as if observing it, despite the impossibility.

"Ah, saaaah! A mistake, but minor." She mumbled, before wiping the booklet against her own fur. The pure white, went bright red immediately. But as she handed the passport over, it was now clean and no evidence of what had marred it remained. The ermin nodded.

"Back with its rightful owner." She rumbled again, before turning away.

"Not quite, wise one." Nate retorted. "I need to find its owner."

The ermin grimaced, and only turned her head, keeping her back to Nate.

"Saaah... An impossible task. Hai, but not for lack of intent. You would be wiser to honour the former owner, and protect it now. Whether by your hand... Saaah... or one you trust."

Nate flipped the booklet open.

"Joshua Embleton. He's dead, isn't he?"

The clan, still just outside, were perfectly silent. Yiktar, had his head bowed and had been still since the ermin approached. Only the human dare ask such a direct question of the clan ermin. She merely nodded once, before leaving, the clan parting for her like smoke.

The door closed and Nate was alone with Yiktar again. The fik rested a clawed hand against the human's knee and gave it a soft squeeze. The human frowned.

"What happened to the trader?"

"Sah, what trader?" Yiktar asked innocently with a blood thirsty grin.

[mystinkylefttoe26]

Tutor Session-König

cw: kinda sub!könig, virgin!könig, expierienced!reader, handjob, blowjob, König sees boobs for the first time 🥹

Summary: after a bad test result König offers to tutor you let’s just say it goes differently then expected… 

“Fuckkk” you groan looking at your German exam “another D my parents are going to fucking kill me “

While your friends are busy trying to comfort you. You feel a little tap on ur shoulder, you quickly turn around only to be met with the schools nerd nervous expression 

“What do you want König” you ask annoyed, clearly not in the mood for some smart comment 

“I can uhm…tutor.. you” he says nervously, looking like it cost him his whole fucking courage to say that. 

Man this dude needs some pussy you think.

“I uhm my native language is German so…” König continues on interrupting your train of thought. 

You think about it for a second before responding “uhm yeah sure that’d be very nice” you smile

König smiles back nervously. “You can come to my house after school today, if that’s ok with you” König says quickly almost tripping over his words. 

“Uhm yeah sure” you respond kind of unsure if you want to go to the house of a guy who look like he came in his pants when you smiled at him 

Well now it’s 5hours later and you’re standing in-front of Königs house. 

It’s a normal house nothing special about. You quickly press the bell, waiting for König to open the door.

The door opens pretty much immediately…like Königs was anxiously waiting for your arrival…

“Hallo, come in” König greets you.

“Come on let’s go upstairs into my room”

You walk up the stairs with him and god the room was exactly the way you imagined it…if not worse..

On the walls were multiple anime posters plastered, Huge gaming set up, a wall with multiple replicas of military weapons and the worst part is you see a flesh light not very well hidden under the bed.

“Here uhm take a seat” König tells you pointing to his desk.

You silently settle down looking at the multiple monster cans plastered on it.

You’ve already studied for about an hour now and you must give König this he is very good at German and teaching it.

The only thing bothering you is the unbearable heat in the room. 

“König is it ok if I take off my hoodie ?” You ask “uh yeah sure go ahead” 

You quickly pull off your hoodie..the only problem is you forgot what you were wearing underneath..a white top..without a bra…

Suddenly König lets out a loud shocked cough “everything ok?” You ask, oblivious to where he’s looking. 

“Y-yes” König says in a shaky voice. ‘Hmm weird’ you think.

You two continue studying, but you could tell König wasn’t as focused as before. 

“König you sure you ok” you ask turning to him. “Y-yeah d-don’t worry bout it” König replies quickly but seemingly still distracted. 

Your eyes subconsciously drift down towards Königs crotch, and there you’re greeted with the sight of a fuckin huge cock straining against the fabric of his sweats. 

“Oh..I know why you’re so distracted” you giggle.

Königs follows your eyes and realizes you’re looking at his very obvious boner, immediately trying to cover it with his hands. 

“No wait ! Don’t cover it, I…I can help you…” you say quickly.

Königs Jaws almost falls out at your words. “H-help..me ?” 

“Yeah” you nod eagerly, already excited of to thought of getting to suck his cock “you know you helped me with my problem I can help you with your ‘problem’”.

“O-ok” König responds shyly.

You immediately walk over to him spread his legs and settle between them on ur knees. 

“Never done anythin’ before” König mumbles out embarrassed.

“Mhmm that’s ok” you say while already palming at his erection “I don’t mind”

“O-ok” 

You make quick work of freeing his member from its confines.

And wow it was even bigger than imagined…

“Woah you have such a nice dick” you coo softly.

“Uhm t-thanks” König replies, clearly not used to getting compliments. 

Your start stroking his length, while König his already twitching in your hands and whining softly.

“C-can you uhm…take off your shirt ?” König asks trough whines and whimpers.

You pretty much rip off ur shirt. Before beginning to eagerly suckle and lick up the beads of pre-cum spilling from the tip.

You start fully taking his length into your mouth while cupping his balls.

“God, you’re really good at this” König moans out.

You start bopping your head up and down wanting him to let out more of those delicious moans.

“I-I’m so close-“ König groans while having his hands planted at the back of your head 

You chuckle internally. It’s been what..a minute and he’s already close.

With your free hand you reach up to your head and press down on Königs hand signaling him to decide your pace.

You continue bopping up and down while swirling your tongue around him.

“I-I’m ughh cuming..” König lets out an high pitched almost female moan.

Before you feel his tip spurting out his hot and almost concerning large load. 

You swallow everything before sticking your tongue out to show König.

“That’s was uhm wow…”

you giggle softly in return.

“Are we like together now ?” 

Königs already planning the wedding <3

Banners from @fairytopea and @benkeibear

[mikavlcs]

Had Enough

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Summary: Xavier starts to get overzealous with you. Wednesday puts him in his place.

Warnings: mild Xavier slander (sorry bud), possessive-ish wednesday

Word count: 1.1k

Notes: another request. hope you guys enjoy<3

Masterlist

Despite Wednesday’s reputation, there were very few people she classified as true enemies.

Sure, she despised the general population of Nevermore, but since she and Bianca had cultivated something akin to a friendship, there wasn’t anyone specific that haunted her thoughts during the day. 

However, Xavier Thorpe was quickly shaping up to be the new target of her antagonism.

She and Xavier had a somewhat complicated relationship. Their issues from her first semester had been largely smoothed over since she took an arrow for him and he gifted her that dreaded iPhone in return. They weren’t exactly friends, but there was no animosity between them.

His feelings for her seemed to pass as well, something Wednesday was eternally grateful for. Unfortunately, it seemed that the new recipient of these romantic feelings was you. And that was completely unacceptable.

She despised the way he insisted on sitting near the both of you during classes to try and impress you with his abilities or tell you terrible jokes in the middle of lectures.

And there were few things that angered her more than seeing him put his arm around you during conversation or ghosting his hand on your back while walking in the hallways.

She wasn’t jealous. No, jealousy had nothing to do with it. In fact, she found the situation laughable, hilarious even. That Xavier, the blank canvas of a man that he was, thought he could take what was hers.

And sure, your relationship wasn’t exactly public. Neither of you was screaming from the rooftops about your feelings because you both preferred to keep your relations private, but it wasn’t as if you were actively hiding it either. Your immediate group of shared friends knew.

Enid, Wednesday had told personally. Only because she wanted the werewolf to know to give the two of you privacy whenever Wednesday brought you to her dorm.

Bianca pieced it together herself, a fact that irritated Wednesday almost as much as the smirk Bianca gave her whenever the two of you walked into fencing class together. Yoko and Divina figured your relationship out because they got, what Enid rather vaguely referred to as, a vibe. Ajax remained blissfully unaware but he was never a threat.

Even other students appeared to cautiously avoid flirting with you in any capacity once they noticed your closeness with Wednesday.

(This carefulness may have also been cultivated by the way Wednesday glared at anyone that got too close for her liking, but that was entirely beside the point.)

The entirety of Nevermore understood that you were spoken for, and she enjoyed that greatly.

But Xavier didn’t appear to comprehend that.

So she would have to take it upon herself to educate him.

-

The quad was quieter than usual.

It wasn’t completely silent. The chatter of a few dozen students melded together, casting a thin blanket of noise over the small space. But it was nowhere near as rambunctious as it normally was on a Friday afternoon. Which meant that it was easy for Wednesday to find you amongst the commotion.

You were sitting at one of the tables on the far side of the quad, pen in hand while you seemingly worked on homework. Your blazer was tied around your waist, fully exposing the vest underneath.

The sky had been covered by clouds all day, but the clouds were beginning to dissipate in places, allowing rays of light to shine through. One of these places happened to be right above your table, clouds parting to envelope you in a halo of light that could fool anyone into thinking you were an angel sent down from the heavens above.

You looked divine. And the only thing stopping Wednesday from stopping and fully appreciating the sight before her was the person seated beside you.

Xavier.

He looked to be helping you with your work. But Wednesday knew better. He was sitting close enough that your thighs were nearly touching, his lanky frame nearly swallowing you whole when he leaned over to look at your textbook. Every time you looked away to write something down, his eyes would trail down the side of your face in a way that absolutely enraged Wednesday.

What drove her over the edge was his decision to grab your hand.

She was marching over to your table within seconds, her gaze absolutely murderous. A few students in her path instantly fled when they saw her expression, but she paid them no mind, focusing solely on how Xavier’s face fell when you pulled your hand out of his grasp. The sight was just enough to stop her from attempting murder, but not enough to deter her entirely.

You were the first to notice her. The way your eyes lit up at the sight of her gave her an unpleasant fuzzy feeling that she loved despised.

“Hi, Wen,” you greeted, giving her one of the warm smiles reserved for her. Wednesday’s glare softened considerably as her eyes moved from Xavier to you.

“Hello, mon cher.”

“I wasn’t expecting to see you until later. Is everything ok?”

The concern in your voice was touching, a reminder of how sweet you were even in less-than-desirable circumstances. But she had other matters to attend to right now.

“Yes. What are you doing?” The question was directed towards you, but her eyes were on Xavier, her fiery gaze boring into him. He squirmed. You didn’t notice.

“Just English homework,” you sighed. Wednesday’s eyes flitted back to you, momentarily drifting to your lips before righting themselves.

“Bring it to my dorm. I can assist you with it myself.”

Xavier started to protest but another glare was enough to quiet him. You looked confused by the sudden change in plans but acquiesced.

“Oh, ok. Let me get my stuff.”

You stood and reached for your textbook only to be stopped by Wednesday.

“Allow me.”

Wednesday began gathering your things for you and in the process, she discreetly leaned over to Xavier and delivered her message, her voice a soft but petrifying whisper.

“Lay your hand on her again and I will remove it. Finger by finger.”

Xavier’s eyes widened with terror, his only response a harsh gulp. Wednesday nearly smiled.

Without another glance in his direction, she stood with your textbook and dragged you off to her dorm. You tried to ask what was going on several times, but she remained silent until she reached her destination.

Once inside her empty dorm, she dropped your things off on her desk and sauntered back to where you were, stopping just in front of you. Your faces were mere inches apart and her eyes wandered back downward against her will.

You began to ask her something, but she cut you off by leaning forward and connecting your lips. A noise of surprise escaped you before you reciprocated, hands instinctively cupping her cheeks. Wednesday tangled one hand into your vest and gripped your tie with the other, lightly tugging you closer. You stayed pressed against one another until you stepped back, slightly dazed.

“What about-“

“Your homework can wait,” Wednesday mumbled, silencing you with her lips once more. She kissed you once, feverish and rough, then again and again and again, until there wasn’t a coherent thought left in your head. Her movements were frenzied—desperate even, and you were helpless to do anything but follow her lead with the same fervor.

When you finally parted for air, she whispered something into the small space between you. Something you didn’t understand, but still wholeheartedly felt.

“Eres mia, mi amor.”

[bugcreditcard]

Law grunted, dangling above the water in the grip of a man ten times his size. If only he hadn't been so distracted by what happened this morning, these nobodies wouldn't have been an issue.

The early morning had been cold. The sun barely peeked through the tall outlines of Swallow’s signature snow-covered pine trees, casting lazy shadows in the dawn. Law rubbed his hands together letting his hotter breadth warm up his chilly fingers for a second before continuing on to his destination. He had left the mittens Wolf gave him behind. They were slightly too big for him and he wanted full dexterity of his fingers. When he got there, it would be brighter out anyways.

He was off earlier than normal to an isolated lake that he had found during one of his explorations mapping out the terrain of Swallow Island. Isolation meant no people, and no people meant it was a perfect place to practice the boundaries of his Op-Op-no-mi powers.

His powers were something that he was still getting used to, not quite sure where the 'theoretically' possible became the actually ‘now’ possible. He knew already that he could use them to heal once-thought incurable illnesses, his own body a constant reminder of that fact, but it also seemed to aid in fights as well. It would be around a month since he had used the devil fruit’s powers to save his new roommate, an anxious polar bear mink by the name of Bepo, from being poached by two eggheaded wanna-be hunters. The two young adults waving their guns around, cruelly boasting about their valuable catch had him rubbed the wrong way even before he saw the polar bear on the ground. Law was glad they never saw those shambled rocks until it was too late.

(And he would never be unprepared again.)

A few minutes of walking later and he was here. He approached the edge of the shore, his attention quickly caught upon a struggling trout that had somehow made its way onto land. As luck would have it, there was also a crab desperately hanging onto it (no doubt it's dinner gone wrong) that had managed to be flipped onto its back. At the time, it seemed to be a waste to not utilize the situation to perform some experiments. For what he had in mind to test, he would be needing two 'test subjects' after all.

Quickly he walked a few paces around to make sure there wasn't anyone in the vicinity. Pine trees enclosed a small area where land met the frigid lake that hadn’t quite frozen over yet, several smaller channels branching off, snaking their way farther into the land and probably the ocean. The lake was too small to set up fishing boats and it was far up enough in the mountain to make any sort of trek here not worth it. Satisfied, his hand moved to hover over the fish and crab, a small familiar blue encapsulating it. His brow furrowed in concentration. Attention pinpoint focused, his fingers twitched slightly and with a (admittedly) satisfying pop, the lower ends of the crab and fish switched places, slotting into place without any bleeding or seemingly outward complications.

"Holy fuck did you see that!"

"Shhhhhh!" Followed by a quick splash that had Law paranoidly whipping his head around. He stood up, hand clenched into his fist, heart hammering loudly in his chest.

The Crab-Fish and Fish-Crab wiggled uselessly on the ground below.

There was no one around. No one moved across the treeline and the lake was barren, lazy ripples scattering across the surface from the wind. Who saw him? Law took several steps back, his eyes darting around. Was it Doflamingo? "Hey." Law started off before raising his voice in anxiety and anger "HEY! Show yourself!"

There was no answer.

With an urgency that Law refused to say was paranoia, Law scooped the proof of his actions into his bag and broke into a sprint into the treeline. If it was Doflamingo he would have already been dead, Law chanted under his breath - the thought did little to settle his beating heart. Wolf’s house, yeah he would be safe there for now: he could pull himself together and form a plan there.

Continued here: In the beginning there was me and you (and you)

[kydrogendragon]

Dreamling fic idea I'll probably never get around to:

Dream is the highest ranking cleric in the city. His gifts are sought after by all and the cost of his services reflect it. He has treated and healed everything from Kings to Demi-Gods. But he is tired of his position. Those he cares for and treats are grateful, yes, but his services are almost expected. And the one time he fails because the bishop was too far gone, even for Dream's skills, he was berated for his failure. Whispers echoed through the kingdom that the High Cleric Dream was losing his touch, that the gods that favored him so are losing interest.

Dream begins to think that maybe they are right. Then he meets Hob - a necromancer that works out in the battlefields, mostly. Someone who he would normally never cross paths with until he does. His sister had advised him that a change of scenery could be good for him and his soul. To recharge and rest a moment and reconnect with his divine gifts.

Hob is helping carry in the wounded and sick from the most recent skirmish in the outerlands. Dream hovers, watching as this captivating handsome man, covered head to toe in grime and blood and dirt, gently guides his fellow soldiers towards the healers bay. And then he walks towards the bodies of those that had not made it.

Hob kneels by the dead, and Dream watches with curiosity. Necromancy was not viewed highly. Most necromancer positions were ones of war, raising the dead so that they might keep fighting. Dream wonders what possible reason this one might have for raising them here in the city. He freezes, thinking perhaps Hob was a traitor or spy and is planning to unleash an attack.

But no. No, as the young man's body beside him jolts to life, a wheezing, gasping noise releases from the cold dead lips. And Hob just smiles. He grabs the corpse's hands, giving it a gentle pat, and says, "Easy there. It's okay. The pain is gone, yeah?"

The corpse just nods.

"Good. Good," the Necromancer says. "You asked me, said if you died on the field-"

"That you'd bring me back, I remember." The corpse speaks, his voice rough. The sight is unsettling to Dream.

"That's right," the Necromancer says, smiling still. His voice is warm and low. Dream strains to hear it from his hiding spot. "What did you want me to say and to who?"

Dream furrows his brows in confusion. What odd game is this man playing at?

"Tell my parents... that I loved them. That I'm glad I got to serve my kingdom as I had. I... I did, right? I did good?" Dream's heart clenched at the quivering in the young soldier's voice. They remembered. They preserved their memories and thoughts and feelings. But...

Dream shook his head. No, corpses brought to life by necromancy are just reanimated. There should be no soul left within them. That is what every teaching has said before. The only exception being a corpse that is reanimated within mere minutes if dying. But this soldier died on the battlefield. He died days ago, at the least. So how?

"You fought so well," the Necromancer says. Dream sees tears fall from those warm brown eyes. "You saved many lives out there. You served king and country well."

"Good," the soldier says with a sad laugh. "Good... then. Then tell them that as well, please? And... and if you can find my brother, his name is Calrose, tell him I'm sorry for all the shit I gave him when we were young. And tell him that he was right about the ale. He'll know what I mean."

Dream feels he ought to turn away from such a seemingly private moment but he finds he cannot. He's transfixed on the sight.

"And tell my girl, sweet Alice, tell her I'm sorry I couldn't keep my promise after all. Tell her I tried and that I-" And the young corpse bursts into tears. Or sounds like it, at least. There are no tears to be shed but the pained wail that is drawn forth from his throat couldn't be mistaken for anything else. The Necromancer leans toward and holds the young boy in his arms, ignorant of the rotting flesh and stale blood.

"I'll tell her. I'll tell them all. Don't you worry," the Necromancer whispers against the man's skull. There is a large gap in his head, Dream realizes now. His skull looks to have been smashed by something strong and heavy. It is most likely how he died. "You can rest easy now, lad. Be at peace. You've earned it."

And as the Necromancer lays the young man back down, Dream watches as the boy takes a final, shuttering breath in and sees the light in his eyes fade as the air is released. He is still once more but with the barest of smiles on his lips.

Dream is dumbfounded by this. By all of this. Everything he feels he knows has been turned upside down by a single man. So he follows him. He watches his movements through the city and witnesses many times his strange version of necromancy. He also witnesses the joy and sadness that it brings to the loved ones he tells each corpses last words to.

It's in a tavern, down by the ports, that Dream officially approaches the Necromancer. Hob, of course, picked up on his newest shadow that first day. It wasn't until just recently that he realized who it was that had been tailing him. And he's petrified. Hob well knows that necromancy within the walls of the kingdom is forbidden unless authorized. He thinks Dream is there to arrest him.

But no. Dream just wants to talk. And he doesn't ever mention his position as High Cleric either. And guessing by the black hooded cloak he wears, Hob is guessing Dream doesn't think he knows who he is either.

So they meet more often. Hob tells Dream of his life, of his experiences. He tells him of his experiences with Necromancy, specifically, and how he's found that more clings to a corpse than you might think. Especially if they had things they still wished to say.

Then one day the kingdom is attacked. The forces manage to breach the outer walls. Dream is darting all around, healing as best as he can, trying to help bolster their offenses. He sees Hob in the chaos of it all, rising corpses to help the fight. It is the first time he has seen this type of magic used in battle. It is the first time he sees Hob wield his skills for a fight.

Then Hob is shot at, an arrow sticks out of his chest and blood is running down his chin as it floods his lungs. The corpses he commanded fall to the ground as his focus breaks. Dream runs to him, ignorant of the continued onslaught. He holds Hob's hand as he calls forth every ounce of his drained power to breathe life back into damaged cells. But the arrow was poisoned. Death magic clings to the arrowhead and infects Hob's body from the inside out. He removes the arrow and allows his magic to flow inside, coating Hob is a warm, white light. He is healing, but it is slow. And with Dream drained as he is, he cannot overwhelm the opposing magic as he might normally. Still, he continues. And he is winning, slowly.

And then more arrows strike the pair. Dream covers Hob's body with his own but the thick cloak he wears only protects him so much. The garb he wears marks him as a Cleric and he has heard enough stories and read enough tales to know that picking off the healers early on is a prime battle stategy.

Hob tries to push him off, to cover him instead, but Dream holds him down, even as the venom embued in each strike weighs him down, Dream continues. Hob begs him to stop. That he'll kill himself if he keeps this up. And Dream knows that he is correct. He will die. But, he finds, as he summons forth the last reserve of his strength, he does not mind dying if it means Hob gets to live.

Besides, there are still words he would say to Hob. He will see him one last time before he goes for good after all.

He pushes all that is left of him into Hob and the death magic fades away. There is only light and love left in his cells. No more poison. Hob is safe.

Dream collapses. Hob scrambles up and drags them both out of the line of fire. Most of the enemy soldiers have left, continuing up through the kingdom. There is a clashing of steel and iron and the sound of magic being flung in the distance. But all Hob can see is Dream. His face lax in his lap. It makes him want to laugh and cry all at the same time because the first time Hob gets to see that beautiful face this calm is when he's dead...

Hob pulls the arrows from his body, discarding them in a pile and pulls the man's body close to his chest. He wishes, not for the first time in his life, that his gifts were of healing instead. Hob bows his head and kisses the soft skin of Dream's forehead and he whispers the words he has heard Dream speak before. Healing words. Hob feels a strange tingle within him. It responds differently than the magic he is used to. And then it is gone.

Hob frowns. And, going off of instinct, he speaks the words that he knows like breathing. His normal powers flood through him but they are also different. It twirls within him, mixing with some sort of foreign piece. But he continues, calling forth for Dream's spirit in the Ether and guides it back to his body. A soul cannot be reattached once the link between is broken. But it can reside there for a time. This is what Hob has learned over his years of study.

And today he is proven wrong. He watches as the chain that links them heals. It glows in a brilliant white light as Dream's soul is guided by golden hands that he knows are his own magic.

Hob looks down.

Dream's eyes open. And he smiles.

The best they can figure, once the kingdom is secured and the people and healed and tended to, is that Dream's own magic stuck with Hob and allowed him to perform both Cleric and Necromatic Magic simultaneously, effectively bringing Dream back from the dead.

It is something that needs further research and is happily agreed and funded by the Crown. Hob is promoted and works side by side with Dream now as they continue their research. They still go down to the healing bays on the weekend. Dream assists with the wounded and Hob still gathers the dead's last words. Life is good. Better than is has been. And Dream finally feels like he's rediscovered his sense of purpose. And Hob? Well, Hob's finally found what he thought he's never get: Love.

[xoalin4]

VIKING!NIKTO

I am so, so sorry this took so long. Haven’t been in the best mood lately and lost motivation to write. But I got a little baby birdie the other week, he is three weeks old now and I am in a better mood.

So here is the Viking!nikto hc (or half story, I don’t really know where I was going with this but I tried) Sorry if it isn’t how you hoped/would have liked.

WARNINGS: Non-con?/dub-con?/kidnapping/unwanted touching/murder/blood/mention of slavery?(They are Vikings after all)/mention of rape(not directed at ‘user’)/piv.

Again, deeply sorry it took so long. And forgive me if any mistakes in the writing

Nikto wasn’t a kind man, killed many too much people in times that wasn’t needed. But the king always forgave the violent Viking, he was a good fighter after all, he would be needed in raids or wars to come.

Despite his often violent actions, he was quite popular amongst the women. He had a good body, he was strong, a good fighter and he was decently good looking, and he was just really good with sex. So it wasn’t a surprise to know he had most likely fucked half the women in his village. After all, who is he to deny a woman that comes to him asking for some pleasure?

He often had sex to release some of his pent up anger which seemingly spawns out of nowhere, in a less violent way. He had a few acquaintances, he wouldn’t dare call them friends, he just tolerated them the most. So he was well known in his village for being a woman pleaser and a skilled fighter.

He enjoyed the attention— not all of it, he hated when too much attention was on him. He only wanted people to know who he was, what he has done, and fear him. Nothing more than that. But he didn’t mind the attention from the women, he loved that, and he thrived in it, knowing that he can always get a woman to let him pound his cock into.

That was until that one, fatal day. The day where he was no longer the same person— fuck, he didn’t even know who he was anymore. He could barely feel his hands that much anymore, his face felt stiff, the skin melted together in parts, burnt. His body littered in scars, burn marks from when they had thrown a torch onto him. His face, he doesn’t even want to look at it. Hates seeing it in the reflection in the lakes he cleans himself in, hated seeing the fact that his mouth was in a permanent snare.

He would do anything, take all the pain in the world, if it meant his face would be normal again. He doesn’t even know how he is alive, he swore he had died that day, he wishes he did, then maybe he would have been spared this life of pain and humiliation.

It’s funny how much scars can change someone, mentally and physically. He heard things, people, more than one, or is there just one? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what he wants anymore, the peace of death or the feeling of killing someone with his bare hands again, both sound pleasing.

He didn’t get much attention from women that much more, often times they looked disgusted or scared. It was funny in a way, how people easily give up on someone after their looks change. He can’t blame them tho, he would be disgusted too. The men didn’t seem to care that much for it, they seemed quite pleased in a way, they got more women after all.

So he wears a mask to cover his face, save him the humiliation. It was uncomfortable but he got used to it quickly, it put more weight onto his body as it was metal. But he felt comforted in a way, the mask was now his face, less gruelling, less hideous.

Kill, Kill, Kill. That was the only thing going through nikto’s mind, kill them all, his axe piercing through a man’s back as the pain had tried to run, blood pooling out of his mouth as he drops to the floor. Nikto chest rising fast and heavy, his eyes wide and pupils small in an almost animalistic way. He loved this, the blood, the screams, the horror of it all.

On to the next, another man dead, another life taken by nikto’s hands, or axe in other words. Blood splattered on his mask, hands and axe dripping with it, the ground red as screams go off around him. A raid, he loved them, loved destruction, loved the fear in the people’s eyes as Vikings raid their land, taking the women and some of men to use as slaves, slaughtering the people that resided here.

Nikto wasn’t really into all the kidnapping shit, he was there for the death, none of the rape and slavery stuff. He wanted to kill people that’s all, that’s the only thing he is good at. But when he saw you, something changed in him, he completely forgot about the man he was currently killing, his axe logged into the man’s side as the man cries in pain on the ground. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, you were.. beautiful. Okay, maybe not the number one beautifulest person, but on the Gods you were the beautifulest he has seen.

You were different, instead of crying and pleading on your knees like the other women, you had a knife in your hand, stabbing it into the neck of one of his village buddies who was trying to grab you. I mean, sure, he has seen women kill in his village, a lot actually, a couple were in on the raids. But it was different coming from you, you dressed differently from the women in this village he was raiding, you looked odd compared to the other women.

You were trying to protect yourself and get out of the village, but the other people that were running were in your way. He never found the idea of taking a woman for himself that pleasing, he used to get them all the time, but that was years ago, when he actually had looks. But Gods be dammed if he was going to let this opportunity go. Taking his axe and logging it through the man’s skull, shutting him up.

Walking over to you, his eyes locked onto your form and yours only, pushing some of the people out of the way, he needed to get to you, it was as if his body willed him to do that and that only. He watched as you saw him at the last second, turning around and trying to stab him. But completely failed as he snatched your wrist, he picked you up hoisted your body over his shoulder, as if you weighed nothing. You didn’t! Not much to him anyway, you were easy to carry. If he ignored your squirming around and your fists hitting his back that is.

Oh, oh you were perfect, perfect for him, if only you would stop screaming and crying that is. He is going to give you a good life, back at his small house tucked away in the trees, away from the village, but in his home. A little trophy you were, a feisty one that is, but hey, he always liked a bit of a challenge.

Tho he hadn’t anticipated the fact that you wouldn’t be used to the weather in his village, it was almost winter, and soon snow would cover every part of ground. Back where he had saved you kidnapped you you didn’t have snow, you had cold weathers but not this cold. You were freezing your ass off, teeth chattering and fingers numb.

Nikto and his horrible ability to look after anything that is alive, he forgot to get you extra clothes for your small, weak body. You had gotten sick within the first week. And now nikto had to go back to the village and try to get some herbs and thicker clothes to keep you warm, he wouldn’t want his slave to die just yet.

Thankfully he had managed to help you over your sickness, getting you back to health. Tho, that is where the problems started. He kept his house warm, gave you thick clothes and even offered to help you warm up (tired to have sex with you). He fed you, decently enough. He kept you warm, gave you a house to live in, didnt try and force himself on you yet. didn’t give you your own bed sadly, you had to share one with him. But other than that, he had given you everything you could have possibly needed!

So this is how you repay him, by smashing the leg of the wooden chair that was in his house over his head when he had came through the front door. Using the fact he had stumbled over and grabbed the back of his head in pain as your advantage, and running out the door. Stupid thing to do.

A man like him only had so much patience, and he just happens to have little of it. But he had tried to be patient with you, he was slow with everything, didn’t go overboard with touching you, even tho he wanted nothing more then to stuff his fat cock into your cunt the moment he saw you.

So why did you have to run? Had he not given you enough stuff to keep you here? Had he done something wrong? Possibly not! He saved you from that stinky village you were in, saved you from working at that farm, around shit and mud. Given you a home to do nothing, no work, nothing but to please him in.

So why?

He had asked himself as he trailed after you, did you really think you could get away from him? Or were you just stupid? He could see your footprints in the show, trailing out into the forest. His head was bleeding, making his shirt become dark coloured, and he felt a bit dizzy. You had a strong hit, that was for sure, left a painful ache in his head. He couldn’t let you get away with that, no, not after everything he has done for you.

It was easy to find you, well you gave him a bit of trouble, you had gotten pretty far in the amount of time you left, farther then he thought you would make it. But he knew the forest well, knew where everything was, knew where to look, so it didn’t take him long.

You had run though the cold forest, the snow slowing you down a bit, luckily it wasn’t that thick, because holy fuck it was hard to run in it. You were panting, lips turning blue and face stinging, it was freezing and the wind didn’t help. You didn’t even know where you were running, but you didn’t care, as long as it got you away from that lunatics place.

Did he really think you were going to stay there? Think you were going to fold and bend over for him since he gave you food and clothes? By the Gods no, absolutely not. You couldn’t even understand him! Only the simple words he knew how to say so you would understand, ‘eat’ ‘sleep’ ‘stay’ and a couple others.

You hated it there, he was creepy and old, a stinky old man! That is what he was, forcing you to lay in the same bed as him, wrapping his arms around you so you are immobilised and unable to move. Having to feel his strong chest up against your back, breathe against your shoulder as it passed through the mask he wore. Hands occasionally moving to touch your thighs or to straight up grope your tits

Not to mention when he baths you, he was kind enough to warm the water by boiling it but that wasn’t the point! You had tried to argue with him, tried to tell him to get out of the room or to turn around so he wouldn’t see you. Which he definitely understood what you meant but didn’t care, forcing you into the wooden tub, naked and exposed. Luckily you had managed to convince him to let you clean yourself instead of him doing it.

Like hell you were going to stay in that place, he even had this weird dog looking thing— definitely wasn’t a dog. But you didn’t know what it was, but it was just as creepy and scary as him. And it stunk! Talk about being related to a mutt, no wonder they got along. But this wasn’t the time to think of that, you had to run, get away remember?

Yes, that is what you were supposed to do, run, escape and never return to that maniacs hut. You weren’t supposed to feel a hand grab the back of your neck, nor being thrown into the snowy ground as a tall figure stands over you. This wasn’t how it’s supposed to go! Why can’t the Gods give you at least some luck? Did you upset them with something? Because you would beg and plead for how ever many years it’ll take if it meant they’ll spare you from the absolute, horrifying glare this man is sending you.

He was pissed, no, more than that, the man looked like he was about to rip you apart limb to limb. You wanted to take back what you did— say that you’ll be good and please him if it meant he wouldn’t drag you back by your hair and chain you up outside his place like you were a dog, out in the freezing snow with noting back a thin, stinky, dress. You really do wish you hadn’t done that, should have waited longer maybe, when he wasn’t in the house.

But no, now you were suffering the consequences. At least he didn’t beat you to death like you half expected he would have done when he had dragged you back, tho you half wish he would if it meant he wouldn’t leave you outside for hours in the snow until it felt like your limbs were about to fall off.

You were so, so cold, lips bluish purple, hands numb and you could barley feel your feet! His house was mere feet away, but you couldn’t get to it, the chain around your neck keeping you tired down to a wooden stake outside. Your eyes half lidded and you felt as if this was your end, you time had finally come. At least you would get to see your family again, because you doubt they managed to escape the Vikings.

But just as you felt like you were going to pass out, your light in shining armour came out, your kidnapper. You don’t know if you should feel thankful or wish you were left out there for longer. But he had brought you inside, put you into the tub of heated water and made sure you didn’t drown in it as he surprisingly gently bathed you and got you warm. The room was warm, the fire which had warmed up the pots of water keeping the hut lighted and warm.

You didn’t fight him, you couldn’t even, you were too cold, but slowly the warmth was coming back into your body. He had taken you out, dried you, and Brought you to the bed he shared with you. You still felt cold tho, the warm bath didn’t warm deep inside you unfortunately. But don’t worry, he’ll help with that, he’ll make sure you are very, very warm.

Surprisingly, he wasn’t THAT rough, he didn’t tear at your skin and eat you alive like you imagined him too. His hands running along your body, groping at your breasts even as you whimpered and protested, but still too weak to push him away. He looked like a feral beast right now, or just a horny old man. Shoulders rising and falling fast, heavy breathing, eyes wide and pupils dilated, bare hands gripping your thighs as he shuffled between them.

He had such rough hands, and the top part of his pinkie finger missing on his right hand along with dints and burn marks along his large hands. He looked like he didn’t know what to do for a second— had it really been that long since the man got some pussy? Yes, seven years since the the man only used his hand.

He was even shaking! A bulge in his pants, fuck, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was drooling underneath that mask of his. He didn’t take it off, and part of you is glad, you didn’t particularly want to see the face of the man who had literally kidnapped you and forced you to live in his home, and now was about to fuck you to help you get warm, after he had locked you outside.

You were scared, terrified honestly, afraid of what this man was going to do to your poor pussy, what this VIKING was going to do to your poor pussy. You had had sex before, with a few village boys back In your home but they were all your age, immature boys who didn’t really know what to do. You didn’t know if he was going to be brutal with it or not, if he would leave your pussy ruined and aching in pain. He was a Viking after all, and from what you read, all of them are rough, cruel, and nasty.

But you didn’t have much time to think about it, because his hand was already down there, spreading your lips to him with his index and middle finger, his other hand holding your waist to keep you put as you tried to squirm away. A cry of— pain? Pleasure? Leaving your lips as a finger thrusted onto you, stretching your walls which left you gripping the fur of the bed. It hurt slightly, the stretch, but at the same time felt slightly good. But then he added two more, which stretched you wider and made you cry out as they thrusted in and out of you. Preparing you, not forcing himself inside like a desperate mutt.

But it wasn’t long until you got the full thing, you hated to admit it, but he was fucking good. Tears rolling down your cheeks as your legs wrapped tighter around his thick hips, his fat cock plunging deep inside your sopping pussy. He was big, a thick and decently long cock, and it was.. how do you say it in the most pleasant way— it was half burnt. Simple as that, a scratchy feeling to it as it slid along your walls, it wasn’t unpleasant, it heightened the experience for you actually! It felt good, and he was hitting all the right places.

You doubt he could feel that side of it tho, but he still felt the feeling of your cunt clenching around him, that was obvious by the way he was panting and groaning into your neck like a dog on heat. Rutting up into your cunt over and over and OVER again. You were so tight, warm, fuck you were perfect for him, you felt so good. A pretty little thing you were, even tho you were a fucking brat and had basically tried to kill him earlier. He would forgive you for that, as this was the perfect apology you could give him, even tho he had taken it forcefully from you.

But you were enjoying it, you were moaning loudly and had tears of pleasure rolling down your cheeks. Your hands clawing at his back, leaving scratch marks down his already heavily scarred back. But he would be lying if he didn’t enjoy it, because he did, it felt absolutely fucking delicious to him.

He wish he wasn’t in wearing his mask right now, so he could take one of your bouncing breasts into his mouth, or even to kiss you to shut your moans up. But that will have to be for another time, he wasn’t ready just yet, he wasn’t sure if he would ever be. But he isn’t going to dwell on it that much, not when he had a pretty feisty little lady to fuck his kids into.

By the end of the night, you were definitely warmed up, wrapped in the arms of a large, sweaty man who practically clings to your body. Hands groping your tits as his masked face lays against the back of your neck, the feeling of his semen still leaking out of your swollen, aching cunt. He did leave it aching in the end, but at least it wasn’t in pain.

Ok, I might have gone overboard with it. It honestly wasn’t supposed to be this long, lmao.

Sorry if this was shit, I tried, and took fucking forever to make, I’ll take all the blame for that😔

Please tell me if it’s shit or not and if there is another warning I should put in because I missed something. Thank you for reading of you got this far🙏