#so his way of comforting would be to describe the situation at hand as one that is more pleasant

[lightsiided]

     she hardly dares to breathe as he begins to speak. rey studies thor's face, tracking the minute shifts in his expression. her hand stills where it had been rubbing his shoulder... and she WAITS for him to explain how he feels. over the years, there have been bits and pieces of the story told to her, but she had never wanted to press for too many details. the situation was obviously painful, and the look on thor's face whenever he spoke of that day hardly seemed worth whatever information she might get.

now, he speaks so vividly she can practically picture what happened. tragedy always strikes so QUICKLY -- what must it have felt like, to be ambushed that way, after thinking he had gotten everyone to safety? her brow knits as she imagines it: thor, tossed aside, then trapped. loki's desperation to save him. thanos, taking it all away from both of them as if it were nothing. it is too much to bear.

rey sighs, reaching up for thor's face again. her thumbs stroke his cheeks tenderly, sympathy clear across her face. he is so STRONG. so resilient. even when the universe is determined to destroy him, he perseveres. "i'm so sorry, thor," rey whispers. it doesn't seem like enough. she wishes she could do more -- wind back time, demand fairness for someone who has given so much. because the truth of it is that thor is good, right down to his core. he doesn't deserve half of what has been thrust upon him. where is the justice?

the shake in his voice compels her closer. rey presses them together, hoping he can find some solace in the steady beat of her heart. she understands the feeling he describes well. if she is HONEST with herself, she feels the very same way. rey knows there is nothing she would choose over thor. she would save him every time, no matter the cost. it isn't exactly the jedi way... but it's the truth. as their foreheads touch, her hands migrate to the back of his neck, where she laces her fingers together. rey holds his gaze steadily.

"i know," she says softly. she is tired, too. at times, her life has felt so long. she can't imagine what it must be like for thor, who has lived in ways she can't even fathom. who has dealt with the unbelievable. "it's alright. you're allowed to be TIRED. look at what's happened. of course you are." it is an impossible burden -- the responsibility of everything that happens in the universe. she isn't sure how he's shouldered it for so long.

and there is no judgment in her. if he expects her to be upset with his inability to stop, thor is mistaken. "listen to me," rey continues, after a moment. her voice is insistent, serious. "you don't have to figure any of that out today. there is nothing else waiting to hurt us right now. no more fight today, or tomorrow. you will get the rest you need." she matches her breathing to his, hoping to slow it. to provide some COMFORT. "and no one is saying you need to stop forever. helping others is part of who you are. but if you don't help yourself... you won't be able to do this good. which is why, yes, i am always telling you to take a break. i know it's hard, and unfamiliar... and maybe you even feel like you don't deserve it."

that is another feeling she knows well. has she EARNED her rest? why should she take it when tragedy prevails in the universe? it's another way they are alike, she suspects. "but that's why i'm here." quickly, she dips in to press a gentle kiss to thor's lips. "to help you. we help each other, right? with whatever we need. so we'll figure this out together -- how to take a break."

in the morning, after they've both gotten some sleep. rey suspects everything will feel much different once the sun is up. for now, she kisses him again; this time, it's slower and sweeter -- an act of LOVE. "i want to thank you for talking to me about this. i know it's not easy, but it means a lot to me that you trust me with this. and i hope you know... how endlessly proud i am of you. and how much i love you."

here is where he is always at his happiest, at his most comfortable.  in rey’s arms, with her holding him in turn.  their breaths slowed and synced, their hearts beating as one.  thor allows himself to be pulled into her; his fingers link behind her back, his arms tightening around her small frame.  to be truly content is to be amongst the quiet, with her hands in his hair, touching his skin, just as she is now.  when he inhales, it’s weighted.  when he exhales, it’s a relief.

“not everyone.  not you.”  the moment that surrounds them, now, is hushed.  safe, at last, from all the dangers that seem intent to persist regardless of how hard they are fought.  “you always tried to remind me —— to slow down, to be… patient, and kind to myself in times of distress, or… or grief.”  because she knows how he blames himself when tragedy strikes again.  “i may not have listened, for a long time, but i remember well — and i always will — how relentlessly you, above everyone else, advocated for me.”

and he will always be grateful for it.  when thor inhales again, it’s in preparation.  at rey’s back, his fingers begin to idly fidget.  this is what she is here for.  they are a team —— partners, in every meaning of the word.  all of her endless support extends to this.

“you know already what had happened in the moments leading up to my brother’s death.”  evacuating the asgardians, fighting, failing; the stone, and the pain it had caused her across the universe; loki handing over the tesseract in exchange for thor’s continued life.  attempting to take thanos by surprise by revealing the hulk ——— the fact it had failed.  “i tried, once more, to stop him.  but i… i was exhausted.  all i had done since my father’s death was fight, and this — i was hurt.  more hurt than i had ever admitted to.”

“it was easy for thanos to cast me aside, as if nothing more than a pest, merely grating his nerves.  still, loki tried.  they pledged themself to him, after whatever it is thanos had done to them before they attacked new york.  another moment of surprise.”  thor’s mouth presses into a line, his brows knitting.  it isn’t easy to recall these details, but he has held them in all these years.  there is no room for loki’s death, and how rey had almost met the very same fate, in his heart.  it has to come out.

“loki tried to stab him, but with two infinity stones…?”  thor shrugs, shakes his head.  the answer is all over his face: by then, any effort was fruitless.  he was too powerful.  “i was forced to watch, uh — one of his children held me trapped in metal, while thanos strangled them.”  he can still see it so clearly.  the dangling feet, the struggle, “he looked at me while my brother struggled to breathe, and he was enjoying it.  amused.  much like gorr was today.”

here, his eyes close.  “i can still hear the crack of bone as it snapped beneath the pressure.  and the thud, when he dropped their body in front of me.”  only now does emotion tighten his throat to the point of pain.  loki’s death still hurts, yes —— immensely.  but he has mourned them for so long.  having it all brought to the surface, being forced to watch the woman he loves in the same peril, not only reopened the wound, but created a new one.

“since that day,” he tries to hide the shake in his voice, “i have, sort of, alternated between missing them with all i have and loathing them.  and the loathing was so… why would they do that?  why would they give him jsut what he neeeded to do what he did?  to save me?  one life amongst trillions and trillions of innocents?  but today, i was presented with the very same choice, and all at once, i understood why loki did it.  i knew calling stormbreaker would potentially doom every god in the universe.  there are not so few of us as you might imagine.  so many worlds across the universe would be then left unprotected by their gods.  it threatens the fabric of reality.  but if saving us meant losing you…”

again, thor’s head shakes.  he leans forward just so, almost pressing his forehead to hers.  it’s equal parts an attempt to be as close as possible, and to hide his upset.  no tears fall freely down his cheeks —— but they are only barely held back.  “i would make the same choice again and again.  now, i know loki would, too.  but —— i am tired, rey.”  it’s the first time he’s ever admitted it to her.  it is, perhaps, the first time he has ever admitted it to anyone, even himself.

“i am tired of having to make these impossible choices.  i am tired of watching those i love be stricken with awful fates.  and after so many centuries, though i know it is my duty, i am growing tired of fighting.  always fighting.  i know, i know —— i have always encouraged you to rest when necessary.  when not necessary.  i have always told you you can’t possibly expect to bear the weight of so much responsibility.  i know saying this makes a hypcorite of me, but… i don’t think i know how to stop.  i know only that i’m tired.”

[lysaisland]

can we bridge the gap between feeling and fact?

He prided himself in being a great detective but, even then, he was still confused. No matter what train of thought he took, all lines led back to you. He was never any good at directions, but this was unbelievable.

Ranpo longed to unravel your entire being, thread by thread, knot after knot. He wanted to know how you ticked, to read you as easily as he would a case.

Surely he could conjure a better plan for his dilemma, instead of staring at the back of your head, the sides of your face, and whatever else his avid eyes could reel in.

The open window allowed the sunlight to stream in, catching your frowning eyes every so often. You were to the right of him, hunched slightly over your desk.

Despite your steady focus on work of all things, Ranpo thought that you had a sort of glow around you. He didn’t know any better way to describe it. It wasn’t all encompassing, or flashy, and it might even have just been the light, but something was utterly magnetising about you. It was subtle, and constant, as natural as breathing. He just needed to figure out exactly what it was.

Mmh, maybe he should go and close the blinds. You would like that, surely. The sun was at its brightest after all, noon, almost lunch, the best time of the day.

He wasn’t used to this. He was being a coward — a disgustingly passive one at that. Everytime his brilliant mind landed on the possible idea of getting up from his desk of doodled paperwork to do something, his, again, brilliant mind shut that idea down faster than he could properly process it. He couldn’t help it.

A small sigh, barely audible, slipped from his lips. If he couldn’t think straight, then it was only logical for him to take a step back and reevaluate his situation.

Ranpo pressed another piece of candy to his mouth, the sweet catching on his teeth. They were not as sickly as he thought they would be, but Ranpo was satisfied with the flavour.

He wondered if he should share them with you. It would be easy, just a call of your name and a small wave, candy in hand. You would come with a comfortable smile on your face if he beckoned.

There were more than enough left in the packet. As well as this, he had noticed that you were partial to this specific brand. Though, only an idiot wouldn’t be able to notice your clear preference for these sweets, especially when the same wrappers practically lived at your desk.

More than once, he had caught you absent-mindedly slipping the candy into your mouth, two at a time, whenever there was a big case that needed to be written up. He supposed that they were a kind of soother, an anchor, for you would always linger around the confectionery aisle, and reach for yet another packet with a soft look on your face. A look of nostalgia, brimming with subtle longing.

What if you looked at him like that?

He froze for a fraction of a second.

You, again. This again. It was simply maddening. Ranpo was accustomed to the gears in his head permanently turning, fine-tuning every minute, conceivable detail, because after all, he was​ The World's Greatest Detective. Hypotheticals were important for scheming, and speculation, for ordinary people. But, it had no real substance. Deductions were far studier.

However, despite this, Ranpo couldn’t bring himself to consider questions like those distractions. He liked to think about you; it was fun.

He was reminded of the time the two of you went to the near-by bakery. It had opened a few weeks ago, and you had asked him if he was interested in trying it out.

You didn’t ask Kyoka or Atsushi, who both had strong preferences for desserts. (Kyoka had to be restricted to one crêpe a week, rather than one per day.)

You didn’t even ask Yosano who was one of your closest confidants, and never passed up the opportunity to eat like a queen. (In fact, she was the one treating Kyoka to strawberry crêpes, everytime the food cart came near.)

The feeling of smug pride that grew in his chest was astonishing. You had asked him!

Suddenly, your voice ran out. Ranpo almost tumbled from his already precarious spot on his chair. He turned and looked up to see you standing over his desk. His name oozed out of your mouth again like warm honey.

Not a figment of his imagination. Very real. His mind slowed, no, halted in its tracks. You were so beautiful, the curve of your cheek looked so soft. The glow he was so focused on before seemed to intensify around your clear eyes. All he could muster up in that moment was how much he wanted to be closer to you.

What if he just slung his arms around you, losing himself in the smell of fresh cotton? Would you hug him back, what if you kissed him?

Ranpo forgot you also had this effect on him. Along with frequenting his mind so often that it could be deemed as a cause of concern, you had the uncanny ability to freeze him in his tracks. It became all too clear that this was not regular co-worker behaviour. It was obvious in more ways than one.

He liked you — a lot so it seemed.

“Would you like to go out with me again? The bakery is having a two for one deal.” Though the question was casual, your voice remarkably steady, Ranpo could see that you were nervous, as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt.

The phrasing was almost exactly the same as the last time you invited him out. Why he found that adorable, he'll never know. Maybe you liked him too, as undoubtedly as he did? His face twisted into a small smile at the thought. Why else would you be nervous?

The agency was freakishly silent, void of everyone, but the two of you. They must have headed out for lunch break a tad early.

Ranpo didn’t trust his voice to not crack — throat a little too dry after eating candy, and a little sticky. He decided to nod enthusiastically before you realised he was taking too long to answer your invite. He got up from the place, where he did absolutely nothing but daydream, and followed you faithfully out the door.

The two of you began to talk. Every word that fell from your lips endeared him, and he couldn’t help but indulge himself. Ranpo hoped that maybe his terrible directional skills would rub off on you. Maybe that way he would be able to stay this way with you for longer. Sometimes, he didn’t know why what he said was so funny, even so, he found himself honestly laughing along to your own giggles.

He could figure you out another time, for now, he would settle for the comfortable peace you gave him.

[amiablyinept]

How each rescue bot would try to comfort you during a storm.

Blades: Oh wow it's really pouring out there huh? You know this reminds me of the big acid storms back on Cybertron, the streaks of lightning were so large that the whole sky would light up.

Boulder: Hey, it's gonna be ok. Remember that after a big storm, always comes a rainbow, and then I'll take you out to the park where we can see the dewdrops on the flower petals.

Chase: The rain here is quite different than the acid storms back on Cybertron. It doesn't sting and it has a fresh scent, it's also feels refreshingly vibrant and this lightning is also very ephemeral.

Heatwave: This is what is making you afraid and cowering by me? It's only a little bit of rain, there's nothing to be scared of, the lightning isn't even that loud either.

[flowersforbucky]

where the lines overlap

logan howlett x reader (dofp!logan x mutant!reader)

word count: 8.7k

summary: no one gets under your skin quite as much as logan howlett - and he knows it, too. sex pollen trope.

warnings/tags: 18+ only mdni, smut, sex pollen so dub con, frenemies to lovers? they aren't enemies but logan and reader don't really get along, reader is a mutant with pyrokinesis, reader is afab, reader is described as being smaller than logan, no use of y/n, wet dream, fuck or die situation, oral, pet names (bub, princess), brief pain kink for logan, unprotected p in v, cream pie

author's note: takes place after the events of days of future past - so everyone's alive, charles is old af, and logan has a pretty streak of silver in his hair. not proofread super well so please ignore any errors.

There's certain things that you like to think about when you're pissed off. It’s a coping mechanism that you learned in therapy at the ripe age of eleven.

Go to your happy place or whatever.

For you, that's the mansion's courtyard after a fresh snowfall, and having the library all to yourself on a rainy day, and the comfort of your bedroom on one of the rare days that you aren’t teaching, or training, or on a mission.

At this point in your life, you’ve forgotten just about everything you were taught in that therapist's office. It's not like you had wanted to be there, but your parents had been worried and scared – and rightfully so. With the unexpected emergence of your pyrokinetic abilities came multiple accidental house fires born out of preteen angst.

So they did the only thing they knew to do at the time – stick you in therapy in hopes you would acquire some anger management techniques.

These days, you have a pretty good handle on your powers. With a lot of time and effort, you learned to control them – and not just control them, but yield them in a beneficial and productive way.

All of that progress comes dangerously close to going out the window anytime you're in close proximity to Logan Howlett.

Maybe all is an exaggeration – but no one else makes your fingertips burn hot with fire that threatens to break through the barrier of your skin quite like him. From his bossiness to his arrogance and attitude, you’ve clashed heads since the first day you met him.

Today is no different.

“Don’t use so much force.”

You curse as the tip of the blade impales the target a whopping three inches from the center. By far your worst throw yet, though this one isn’t entirely your fault.

You snap your head towards the unexpected but familiar voice, pulling your last dagger from the holster secured around your thigh before chucking it in his general direction. It flies past him, bouncing off the wall behind him.

You knew that it wouldn’t actually hit him. And if by some miracle it had, he’d heal in two seconds and then go right back to being a pain in your ass.

A good looking pain in your ass, admittedly. But a pain in your ass nonetheless.

He looks at you with an amused expression. “See? Too much force.”

“I didn’t know that having giant forks for hands made you an expert on throwing knives.”

He exhales a breathy laugh, staring at you for several seconds before turning to pick the dagger up from the ground. He then proceeds to collect the rest of the knives that you had previously thrown from the body of the practice target.

In heavy silence, he struts over to you with the daggers in hand. He turns to face a wooden target board, finding the balance point of the knife before sending it flying through the air.

Bullseye.

“A long time ago, when I first joined this team, Charles made me practice a non-power related method of self-defense, too.” He pauses, lining the second dagger up with the practice dummy. To no surprise, it’s another perfect throw.

“Wanna guess what I chose?”

You snatch the remaining knife out of his hand.

“How to annoy someone by sneaking up on them and giving them unsolicited advice while they are minding their own business?”

You position your feet once again, holding the knife up in preparation to take aim. Your eyes dart back and forth between the blade and the target ahead of you. You hesitate, feeling nervous under his gaze.

Logan moves from standing beside you, to standing behind you. Your breath catches in your throat as his large figure looms over you. If he were to took a step forward, his chest would brush against your back.

He uses the tip of his boot to nudge your heel forward half an inch, adjusting your stance. He takes your right hand in his, and you have to consciously remind yourself to breathe.

A wave of annoyance washes over you that he’s able to fluster you so easily. It makes you as pissed at yourself as it does him. He’s barely touching you – his hand dwarfing yours is the only point of physical contact, but you’d think that he were pinning you up against a wall with his body.

You tell yourself the sudden light-headedness and increased heartrate is because of the newfound closeness, and nothing more. You’re used to being around Logan – the two of you live together and work together. His general presence is nothing new. But the intimacy of your current predicament is.

And maybe the fact that notes of tobacco and bourbon are infiltrating your senses doesn’t help.

“As unsolicited as my advice may be,” he says lowly as he pulls your hand back slightly, “I give it because if there is ever a situation where someone's trying to hurt you, and you’re unable to light them on fire for some reason, I would really hope that you could at least impale them.”

He tightens his hold on your hand, and then snaps both of your wrists forward. Surprisingly, your brain registers to release your grip just in time. When the tip of the blade impales the center of the target perfectly, he drops your hand.

But he doesn’t move from behind you.

“Much better. Now come back upstairs. Charles needs to see all of us in his office.”

••••••

You and Logan are the last people to enter Charles’ office.

Storm, Scott, Jean, Marie, and Bobby have all found places to sit throughout the small room. Logan chooses to lean against the door that clicks shut behind him, while you exhale in relief at the sight of an empty chair on the opposite side of the room, next to Marie.

“Ah, how nice of you two to join us,” Charles greets. “I was starting to think that Logan got lost on his way to retrieve you.”

You force out a laugh, earning a side-eye from Marie as Charles launches back into whatever he had been in the middle of before you two interrupted.

“Everything okay?” Marie murmurs to you. “You looked a little sick when you walked in.”

“Oh, yeah,” you shrug her off without looking at her. You keep your eyes on Charles. “Yeah, I'm just tired. Been training all morning.”

What were you supposed to tell her? That you were thankful to be wearing a tactical suit so that Logan couldn’t see all of the goosebumps that bloomed across your skin when he was practically breathing down your neck less than five minutes ago? Or that the walk back up to Charles’ office was filled with a loaded silence in place of your usual bickering and banter?

Marie might be one of your closest friends, and you trust her, but Logan is something of a fatherly figure to her. There’s no way you’re letting her hear those words come from your mouth.

You try your hardest to focus on all of the information that Charles throws at you. You’re all to leave on a mission early tomorrow morning. When he explains where you’re going and why, chills run down your spine.

Alberta, Canada – more specifically, Alkali Lake. All of your friends seem to tense up at the mere mention of the place.

You dig your teeth into your lower lip, fighting the urge to sneak a glance to try to gauge Logan's reaction. You’ve never been to Alkali Lake before, and you’re far from excited about going – you can only imagine how he feels, given his history with the abandoned military base.

After no word of any activity surrounding the base for years, Charles had been made aware that the recent disappearance of a group of young adult humans had been traced back to Alkali Lake – to a modern day subsidiary of the group Weapon X.

The same group responsible for Logan’s skeleton being made from adamantium.

This, of course, is where all of you come in.

After a detailed rundown of the goals for tomorrow – the main one being safe extraction of the humans – Charles dismisses all of you to rest for the remainder of the day.

When everyone stands up, you finally risk glancing at Logan, but he’s already opening the door to Charles’ office and strutting away.

••••••

Thick stubble scratches your innermost thighs as sharp teeth and soft lips alternate between kissing and biting the sensitive flesh between your legs.

His face is covered in your slick from the three orgasms he’s already pulled from you with his tongue. He lays nestled between your legs, pinning you to the mattress beneath you. Your thighs rest across his shoulders, his hands splayed across your belly.

You're putty in his hands.

“I've gotta say, the sounds you make when you cum are way cuter than the sounds I'm used to hearing from you,” Logan muses against your cunt. His voice sends a vibration over your already overstimulated core.

You can only guess that the sounds he’s referring to are annoyed sighs and you telling him to shut the fuck up, but right now, you don't care enough to ask for any clarification.

“Yeah?” You yelp when his tongue flicks against your swollen clit. “Maybe if you spent less time pissing me off you’d get to—”

You're cut off by him plunging the tip of his index finger inside you. You writhe against him, your walls constricting around the digit.

“Less time pissing you off, more time letting you fuck my fingers and face. Got it.”

The slamming of a door somewhere outside of your room causes you to bolt upright in your bed.

You open your eyes to darkness except for the red glow of the numbers on your digital alarm clock that read 12:26 in the morning. Your heart feels as if it’s going to beat right out of your chest, and your skin is clammy with a thin layer of sweat. You throw your covers away from you in an attempt to cool yourself off.

“What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck—”

You whisper the three words to yourself over and over again until your breathing resumes a normal pattern.

You’re alone, of course. In the comfort of your private room, where you had fallen asleep several hours ago. The difference between now and then is an uncomfortable pool of wetness between your legs, soaking your underwear.

You can’t even recall the last time you had such a vivid sex dream. It felt utterly lifelike – you reach down between your legs, trailing your fingers over the skin of your inner thighs where you had felt his beard tickle and tease you.

How the fuck are you supposed to look him in the eye tomorrow, when you’re having to work together to rescue humans from Alkali Lake? How are you supposed to come up with smart-ass remarks for his endless taunting and teasing when you’re going to be trying your hardest to not replay the images of his hazel eyes looking up at from between your thighs?

“Get a fucking grip,” you whisper hiss to yourself.

It’s Logan. The same Logan who acted like he was too good to say more than ten words to you the first half a year that you were with the team. The same Logan that tries to get you benched for the dumbest, smallest reasons he can think of. The same Logan that condescendingly calls you kid or princess every chance he gets because he knows it gets under your skin.

You need a glass of water. And some fresh air, and a cold shower—

You start by picking up the pair of sweatpants that you’d discarded before falling asleep a few hours ago. You step back into them, deciding to trek to the kitchen for some ice water. Your mouth feels as dry as cotton.

As you approach the end of the hallway that leads from the team member's bedrooms to the kitchen, you hear the soft shuffling of footsteps and see low lighting that spills from the refrigerator.

As soon as you step into the kitchen, you come to a halt. You recognize the large frame standing in front of the open fridge right away.

Of fucking course it would be him. And of fucking course he wouldn’t be wearing a shirt.

You clear your throat to announce your presence, not quite trusting your voice to speak. He looks at you over his shoulder, a bottle of beer pressed to his lips.

You walk over to the cabinet beside him, keeping your eyes off of him entirely as you get a glass.

“What's got you awake at this hour?” He closes the fridge, leaning back against the edge of the countertop. The only light in the room now comes from the small, dim bulb above the sink.

If he only fucking knew, you think. If he only knew that the real reason you are out of bed right now is because you’d just woken up from an extremely graphic, jarring dream of you riding his face.

You fill the cup up with cold water from the kitchen sink and take a large swig before once again turning to face him.

“Could ask you the same thing,” you answer with a vague gesture to his half-dressed form and beer bottle.

He takes in your appearance, too. His eyes trail from your exposed feet, to your baggy sweatpants, and up to your even baggier t-shirt before settling on your face. You feel particularly vulnerable under his gaze right now. You compare how you look to how he looks – with his stupid abs that look like God himself chiseled them from stone and his sweatpants that hang just a little too comfortably.

You sip on your water just to keep from biting your lip.

“Guess we were both thirsty,” he shrugs as he takes another sip of his beer.

“Guess so,” you hum, and because you don’t want to fall into an awkward silence and it’s the only thing you can think to add, you say, “Nervous about the mission?”

His expression darkens and posture tenses at your question. “I am,” he admits. “And if you knew as much as I do about that place, you’d be nervous, too.”

You huff. Your grip tightens around the glass in your hand at the mere insinuation that he knows your feelings. “Who says that I’m not?”

“If you’re going, you’re not nervous enough.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. You take a deep breath, knowing damn well the direction that this conversation is headed. You’d heard it all from him before – anything to keep you as far away from him as possible.

“Of course I’m going, Logan. Whether you think I’m good at it or not, it’s my job.”

“It’s not that I don’t think you’re good at your job. It’s about experience—”

You laugh, cutting him off. You can feel the telltale warmth of fire beginning to form beneath the tips of your fingers, your irritation threatening to bubble over.

“Experience?” you exclaim. “Do I need to remind you that I’ve been with this team for three years now? Just because I’m not two hundred years old like you doesn’t mean that I don’t have experience.”

“I’m very aware of how long you’ve been with this team, bub,” he says calmly, which makes you all the more heated.

“For three years you’ve spewed every bullshit reason you can think of to keep me on the sidelines,” you laugh. “I wish you’d fucking admit that you just don’t like me. It’d be a lot more respectable than acting like you’re worried about—”

Logan’s gaze drops to the glass in your hand, making you come to an abrupt pause. You follow his stare, realizing that you’ve managed to melt the glass where your fingertips grip the glass. Water begins to leak out from the holes, spilling onto your sweatpants and the floor below you.

There’s no visible flames emanating from your fingertips. Your anger hadn’t progressed to full on fire, just intense heat, but still. No one else makes you come as close to losing control as him.

No one. And he seems to know it, too. You can tell by the smug look on his face.

You dump what little liquid is left into the sink before chucking the distorted glass into the garbage.

You start to storm past him, to get away from him and go back to your room without another word, when he grabs you by the wrist. You look at him in bewilderment – this is the second time in the last twenty-four hours that he has held your hand in his.

“Didn’t know you were so hot and bothered over me,” he says with an amused smirk.

You rip your hand away from him, an exaggerated look of disgust on your face. Your recent dream pops into your head and you have to remind yourself that he’s not Jean or Charles – he can’t read your mind.

“You're lucky that you've got those handy healing powers,” you spit as you once again begin exiting the kitchen. “If I thought there was a chance of it actually shutting you up, I’d burn more than just Charles’ vintage glassware.”

You hear him say your name, but you’re already speed walking back to your room and playing your list of happy place thoughts on a loop in your head.

The soup that Storm makes when everyone at the school seems to get sick at the same time. One of your younger students picking you a flower. The smell of fresh laundry, the crisp pages of a new book.

Finally, your bedroom door clicks shut behind you.

You would have been better off just enduring the discomfort of a dry throat, you think. You don't know what's worse – not being able to sleep because you're rattled from a wet dream about him, or not being able to sleep because you've once again allowed him to get under your skin.

You crawl back under your covers, hoping that when you close your eyes, you don't see his face again.

••••••

Logan doesn’t make any more appearances in your dreams for the rest of the night, but that doesn’t stop him from being the first thing you think of when you open your eyes in the morning.

And as much as you hate to admit it to yourself, the only thing on your mind the entire flight from New York to Alberta.

From the tension that filled the air when he corrected your knife throwing technique yesterday morning to the warmth of his calloused hand when he grabbed you by the wrist in the kitchen last night, you're fighting a losing battle with no one but yourself.

As far as you can tell, he’s utterly unaffected. The fact that he chose to sit directly in front of you on the jet instead of any of the other empty seats says as much.

Not even ten minutes into the flight, you're staring at the tufts of his hair and his broad shoulders when you have to remind yourself that there's two telepaths occupying this jet with you. Though you trust both Charles and Jean to not read your mind without cause, the mere possibility of either one of them accidentally tuning into your thoughts and seeing a replay of your most recent dream or hearing you think about what it would be like to tug on those stupid fucking tufts of hair that resemble kitten ears is enough to mortify you.

You find yourself grateful that you brought a book and headphones with you to distract yourself for the duration of the trip.

An eerie feeling creeps into your bones as soon as you step onto the hanger of the jet. You can’t deny that the scenery surrounding the military base is beautiful – from the snowcapped mountains to the frost covered lake, it’s picturesque. But then your gaze settles on the large dam, and you remember what lies beneath.

“Can't say that I've missed this place,” Logan grunts, drawing your attention to him. His face is impassive other than his mouth being set in a hard, straight line as he stares out towards the water.

It's rare for Logan to elicit feelings outside of burning irritation (and maybe, possibly, sometimes arousal) from you – but right now, there’s a part of you that wishes the dynamic between the two of you were different.

As much as he infuriates you, you still care about him. You wish you could say that you didn’t, but the fact that you feel the urge to reach out and give his hand a reassuring squeeze makes that pretty hard to deny.

That urge dissipates as quickly as it comes over you. The bitter chill of the mountain wind and your teammates voices pull you back to reality. You awkwardly fiddle with one of the daggers strapped to your thigh instead.

“Jean and Scott, the two of you take the west side of the building,” Charles instructs when the group nears the discreet entrance. “Bobby and Rogue, clear the east wing. Storm and I will be keeping watch outside to make sure that no one tries to escape with the humans.”

“What about us?” you ask with a slight nod towards Logan. The fact that neither of you had been given instructions yet leaves it to be assumed that you’ll be paired up together.

You and Logan working as a pair was nothing out of the ordinary, and although that typically comes with a lot of annoyance, right now you can’t help but feel a little relieved by it.

Even if you are still irritated at him for his behavior and choice of words in the kitchen last night and even if you do think of him between your thighs every time you look at him for more than five seconds, he’s still more familiar with this place than anyone else here.

And no matter how much he makes you want to tear your hair out, there's never a time that you feel unsafe when he's near.

“You and Logan are to inspect the basement,” Charles answers. “I trust that you can refrain from melting any antique personal property until we are back at the mansion, my dear,” he adds with a knowing smirk.

“I was planning on paying you back for that,” you mumble.

“No,” Charles sighs. “You weren't. It was very expensive.”

Logan snorts, earning curious glances from everyone other than you and Charles. He does get a nasty side-eye from you – a silent promise to deliver on last night’s threat to find something to burn other than vintage glassware.

Your teammates split up into their respective groups upon entering the base, leaving you to follow Logan's lead towards the lower levels.

It’s unsettling just how silent it is. The only sounds are that of yours and Logan's boots against the ground. You'd be able to hear a pin drop from across the building.

And it's cold. The kind of cold that makes your bones ache. You instinctively flex your fingers, focusing on the warmth that radiates from the tips.

As the two of you make your way through the dark, seemingly endless basement, checking each room for signs of life, you can't help but think of Logan being here under much different circumstances.

You don't know the full extent of his time here – even he only remembers bits and pieces. But you know enough to know that this can’t be easy for him.

The fact that he's being uncharacteristically quiet only reaffirms that. He makes none of his typical taunts and jabs, only speaking when absolutely necessary.

You find yourself damn near wishing he’d make some snide comment about how you’re walking too loudly and how being partnered up with you feels like babysitting duty – if he did, maybe then you wouldn’t feel this annoying, persistent worry over his mental well-being.

“Logan,” you begin quietly as the two of you approach a large set of hospital style double doors at the end of a corridor. “I know being here can't be easy for you. I'm sorry that you have to be.”

He huffs a laugh under his breath, not meeting your eyes as he slowly pushes one of the doors open, peaking into the room before stepping inside and holding the door open for you.

“Just part of the job, bub,” he sighs. “I know what I signed up for.”

You enter, walking past him into the dark room. You shine your flashlight around the cramped space. Right away, you can tell that it’s vacant, as all of the other rooms you’ve checked have been. But it’s different – whereas most of the rooms have been completely empty, this one contains multiple twin sized beds. No frames, no pillows, just plain white sheets on each one.

“I know you do. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t hard.”

The door clicks shut behind him, and he shines his own flashlight around the room from right behind you.

“It’s okay, princess,” he snorts. “I’m a big boy. You don’t gotta pretend to be worried about me.”

Princess. Your fingertips tingle as soon as the pet name leaves his lips.

“I’m not pretend—”

The sudden, loud clicking of a deadbolt echoes through the room, silencing you. You and Logan stare at each other for a brief moment, startled and confused, before he turns around and pushes on the double doors to no avail.

He slams the full weight of his body against the metal, but it doesn't budge.

“What the fuck,” he growls in between repeated strikes against the doors.

“Logan and I are locked in a room in the basement,” you say as you click on the communication device in your left ear. “The door automatically locked after we came inside. We can’t get it open—”

You’re met with white noise.

“My fucking comm isn’t working.” Panic begins to set in as you yank the device out of your ear to inspect it. There’s a small green light indicating that it is on, but for whatever reason, it isn’t getting signal.

“Scott? Storm? Can anyone hear us?” Logan says as he messes with his own communication device. “Nothing,” he grunts after a moment of silence.

“Professor? Jean? If either of you are listening, now would be a great time to poke around in our brains and let us know.”

Nothing indeed.

“Okay,” Logan says as he backs away from the double doors. “Blast them.”

“Blast them?” You repeat, dumbfounded. “They’re industrial metal doors. They’re like two feet thick. These walls are made out of concrete.” You bang your first against the rock solid wall for emphasis. “What the fuck do you think fire is—”

“I don’t hear you suggesting anything!”

“How about not setting the room we are trapped in on fire? Only one of us has regenerative—”

A loud hissing noise sounds from above, causing you and Logan to both point your flashlights up towards the ceiling. You squint, trying to make sense of what you’re seeing. Large vents make up well over fifty percent of the ceiling, releasing what appears to be a fog like substance. It quickly transforms the air above you into one large, milky looking cloud.

“Charles! Storm! Scott – we need help. Quickly, we need help. I don’t know what’s going—”

You continue to shout into the communication device while Logan alternates between punching the door with his fists and throwing the full weight of his body against the metal, but all of your efforts are futile. The doors don’t budge, and you hear nothing but static from the comm.

You frantically glance around the room, looking for another escape route. There’s no other doors, and no windows. You’re completely enclosed by the four concrete walls and the impenetrable metal doors.

“Hold your breath!” Logan shouts as the fog descends upon the two of you, but it’s too late. The sickeningly sweet smelling mist encompasses you, making it impossible to see anything other than the thick silver vapor. It infiltrates your nostrils, causing you to gag. You cough, desperately trying to clear your airway of the substance.

It burns – your throat, your nostrils, your eyes and skin. Anywhere that it comes in contact with you feels like pins and needles.

You’re vaguely aware that Logan is somewhere to your left, asking if you’re okay in-between coughs and gags of his own. You can’t catch your breath well enough to answer him.

His hand clasps around the top of your arm. Your vision goes fuzzy and you collapse into him, light-headed from the profuse coughing.

“I think it’s dissipating,” Logan whispers in a strained voice, still supporting you so that you don’t fall to the floor. You risk cracking your eyes open the slightest bit, and realize that he’s right. There’s still a veil of mist surrounding you, but it’s no longer so opaque that you can’t see even two inches in front of your face.

You take deep breaths, making no effort to step away from him as you attempt to regain control of your breathing. Your lungs feel like they are on fire and your throat feels like you haven’t had any water in days.

“What the fuck was that?” Your voice comes out as a croak.

“Can you stand?” he asks you. You nod, reluctantly pulling away from his embrace.

As soon as he steps away from you to see if the doors are still locked, the momentary relief that you felt when the fog began to dissipate is replaced with renewed terror. The room, which was previously dark except for the light from your flashlights, suddenly glows a deep red color from the ceiling that now emits crimson fluorescence.

You open your mouth to call out for Charles or Jean again, when a throbbing sensation radiates throughout your gut. You clutch your hands over your abdomen, gasping at the sudden and awkward feeling.

Logan turns his attention away from the doors and back to you as soon as he notices how you’re hunched over. You stumble over to the bed that's closest to you, the world blurring around you in shades of red.

“Something is wrong,” you gasp out. You know you're stating the obvious – something has been wrong since the moment that the doors locked behind you.

He's next to you in two long strides, kneeling beside the bed and looking up at you in concern. The ache in your lower belly seems to worsen with his close proximity. Your skin feels feverish, making you want to peel your tactical suit off of your body.

“Tell me what you're feeling,” he demands. Other than obvious confusion and fear, he appears physically fine. You piece together that whatever that shit was, it’s effecting you much differently than it is him – undoubtedly due to his healing abilities.

You can't form a coherent sentence – all you can focus on is the way that the discomfort in your abdomen travels down to your groin, making you clench your thighs together. You have the inexplicable desire to reach out and pull him to you, as if having him as close as possible to you is the only solution for every uncomfortable thing happening to you.

“You gotta talk to me, bub. Tell me what’s going on,” he says when you don’t answer him. He puts a hand just above your knee and you have to hold back the whimper that threatens to break through your lips. He notices your pained expression and quickly withdraws his hand from your thigh.

“No!” you gasp, grabbing his hand in yours out of desperation to maintain some level of physical contact with him. “I – I don't know how to explain what’s happening. Just – I just need you to keep touching me. Please. Whatever that fog was, it’s making me feel like…”

You trail off, realizing that you must sound every bit as insane as you feel. You don’t know how to begin articulating what’s happening to you, because it makes no sense. When the silver mist first started to rain down from the ceiling, the last thing on your mind was Logan pinning you to one of these mattresses and railing you until you until you see stars. Now, you think that if he so much as stops holding your hand, you'll fucking die.

A look of clarity washes over Logan’s face – with a hint of something else that you can't quite pinpoint, too.

“I think I know what this is,” he murmurs. His stare is locked on one of the daggers strapped to your thigh. He squeezes your hand in his, though you don’t know if it’s to comfort you or himself.

“I’ve heard of this before. Didn’t know it actually exists. I came across it once when preparing a lesson on Alkali Lake—”

“What is it?” you implore.

His eyes finally flicker back up to yours. Images of last night’s dream flash through your mind again. Instead of his hand holding yours, you visualize his slender fingers pumping inside you. You stare at his lips, imaging the feeling of them sucking love bites into the meat of your inner thighs –

“It’s a chemical created for breeding experiments,” he answers after a pregnant pause. “They – Weapon X – wanted super mutants. Some of the subjects were… less than compliant. This made it so that they weren’t able to fight it.”

You let his words sink in. It’s not something you’ve ever heard of, but you don’t doubt that what he’s saying is true. How could you, with the way that your pussy is throbbing at the mere sound of his voice? Under normal circumstances, you might not read too far into that. But right now? On a mission, locked in a creepy basement, unable to get in contact with your teammates?

“Weren’t able to fight it,” you repeat slowly. “You're saying there’s only one way out of this.”

He doesn’t answer – just looks at you with sympathy. With pity.

“No,” you shake your head. You yank your hand from his grasp and move back across the mattress as the gravity of the situation hits you. To distance yourself from him feels like ripping air out of your own lungs, but the alternative is borderline unthinkable.

“I can’t – won’t ask that of you,” you declare. There’s a voice in the back of your mind that laughs at you, as if saying it’s cute that you think you have a choice. The pain and longing grow with each passing second, threatening to consume you from the inside out.

“You’re fine. It would be different if it was both of us. But you shouldn’t have to do this just because you're stuck here with me.”

“Have to? You make it sound like it would be a punishment for me,” he chuckles darkly. He finally rises from where he had been kneeling next to the bed. He stands beside the mattress, looming over you in the maroon lighting.

“Let’s not overcomplicate this, princess,” he murmurs. He grasps your face in his palm and tilts your head to look up at him. His touch is a balm – it feels like running a burn under a cold stream of water.

“I'm gonna take care of you, and then you can go right back to tolerating my existence.” He runs the calloused pad of his thumb over the swell of your bottom lip. Your eyes flutter shut, reveling in the sensation of the singular digit against your flesh.

“Besides, it’s not like you haven’t dreamed about this. Or were you moaning about someone else who just happens to have the same name as me last night?”

Your eyes shoot open at the revelation that not only had you said his name in your sleep, but he’d fucking heard you. And has the nerve to tease you about it at a time like this.

He's smirking down at you. His smugness irritates you often, but right now it’s enough to cause the tips of your fingers to burn hot. You jerk his hand away from your face, causing him to hiss when your fingers wrap around his wrist.

He chortles, his eyes rolling back in his head at the sensation. The reaction fills you with annoyance – of course he would have a fucking pain kink.

As much as it pisses you off, it also spurs you on. Blame the influence of the chemicals that you’re currently under, but the fact that he can so easily tolerate and even enjoy something that would have anyone else running in the opposite direction does something to you.

You’re past the point of finding it in you to care about consequences. You’re no longer thinking about how you’ll be able to look him in the eye when this is over, or how you’ll pretend like everything is perfectly normal when the two of you are back on the jet with your teammates.

Maybe you can fight this drug, or maybe he’s right and there’s no point in trying. Either way, you’ve decided that you're going to have him before you leave this room.

You drop his hand, bringing yours to the zipper at the neckline of your tactical suit. You slowly tug it downwards, gauging his expression as he watches you expose your chest and stomach.

For once, he’s all out of smart remarks.

A part of you feels a sense of satisfaction and wants to continue taking your time with undressing yourself, just to keep him looking at you like this – but every fiber of your being is screaming at you for more.

You waste no more time with shoving the restrictive Kevlar material down your arms, leaving you in only your bra from the waist up. Logan unfreezes at the sight, crawling onto the bed on his knees. You maneuver yourself so that you’re laying flat against the mattress, pulling him down with you.

He rips the fabric of your bra away from your breast, immediately attaching his mouth to your nipple. He rolls it between his tongue and teeth, causing you to arch your back into his touch. Your legs instinctively wrap around his hips, pinning yourself to the mattress with his body. You mewl at the feeling of your pebbled nipple in his warm mouth.

His other hand attempts to free the opposite breast, but the fabric is too tight and restrictive. He let’s out an annoyed growl, pulling back to unsheathe his claws and snip the material in between your tits, letting them spill free.

“Hey! I loved that bra—”

Your complaint dies in your throat when he slates his lips over yours.

There’s nothing slow or sensual about the way that he kisses you. He slips his tongue past your lips, moving his lips with fervency and urgency – like he needs this as badly as you do.

You buck your hips up into him, desperate for any amount of friction. He grinds down against you, his erection evident even through the thick material of both of your tactical suits.

He pulls back, breaking the kiss to unzip your suit the rest of the way down. He peels it down your thighs, only stopping to discard your boots. When you’re left in only your underwear, he looks at you with a satisfied smirk.

“So, what exactly was I doing in your dream to have you saying my name like that, huh?” he asks as he toys with the waistband of your panties.

You roll your eyes, your patience growing thinner as the ache in your belly grows stronger. He can tease you about that all he wants when you’re back in the safety of the mansion, when you’re no longer under the influence of potentially life threatening chemicals and capable of thinking of a proper comeback.

“Shut up and eat me out.”

His smirk only grows, but he doesn’t tease you any further. He tugs your panties down your legs, tossing them to the floor. He lowers himself onto his stomach, still fully dressed. Under less dire circumstances, you would’ve been eager to get him out of his clothes, too – but right now, your highest priority is feeling his mouth on you.

No wet dream could have prepared you for how euphoric it actually feels for his teeth to nip at the tender flesh of your inner thighs, or the way that his tongue draws lazy circles at your hole before his lips lock around your clit.

You writhe against him, chasing the release that you’ve been desperate for since the second the vapor first came in contact with your skin. He’s more than generous, expertly nursing at your swollen bud as he eases a slender finger inside your cunt.

One finger – that’s all it takes to feel your climax building, the coil in your lower belly tightening. You feel your walls pulse around the digit as your orgasm washes over you. You don’t even try to hold back your cries and praises of pleasure, letting him know how good he’s making you feel.

When he sits back, his lips and beard glisten with your slick in the red glow that encases you both. You push yourself into a sitting position and reach for the zipper of his suit, antsy to shed his clothing now that your physical discomfort had been quelled – at least for the time being.

He helps you, shrugging out of his vest and tugging his undershirt over his head. Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him. You’ve seen him shirtless before, but never shirtless for you. You want to dig your nails into the planes of his chest, and run your tongue along the protruding vein that disappears beyond the waistline of his pants –

You undo his belt buckle and pop open the button of his pants before hastily yanking both his pants and boxers down in one movement. His cock springs free, bobbing inches before your face. You start to adjust your position on the bed – to get on your knees and take him in your mouth – when a low chuckle causes you to pause and look up at him.

“Nuh-uh,” he tuts, earning a confused pout from you.

“You don’t want me to suck your dick?” You ask with raised brows.

“S’not about me right now, bub. I said I was gonna take care of you, and that’s what I’m gonna do. Now lay back down for me.”

You aren’t going to argue with that.

You return to your original position on the mattress, pulling him down with you. He hovers above you, using one arm to support himself on the bed. He takes his cock in his free hand, stroking his length a few times before nudging his head through your folds until he’s lubricated in your juices.

“Don’t you worry, though,” he murmurs against your lips. He teases his tip at your hole. “If you still wanna suck my dick when we get out of here, I'll let you.”

“Oh, you’re so thoughtfu—”

He sheaths himself inside you, turning the end of your retort into a gasp. He fills you entirely, stilling to allow both of you time to adjust to the sensation. The stretch is damn near blinding, making your eyes roll back into your skull. You glance down between your bodies, halfway expecting to see him jutting out of your stomach.

He fucks you similarly to how he kisses you – like this is saving him as much as it is you. It's rough, and fast, and messy – and you dread the moment that it’s over.

No one has ever filled you as completely and perfectly as him. You don’t think anyone else ever will, again.

Each drag of his cock along your walls has you clenching around him, each time his head rams against your cervix you can’t help but cry his name.

He snakes his hand in between you, reaching down to where his body collides with yours. His thumb massages over your sensitive clit.

You rake your nails down his back and he hisses in approval, snapping his hips into you at a brutal pace.

“Fuckin’ ruinin’ me for anyone else, princess,” he grunts before kissing you again.

You don't have time to overthink the sentiment before your second orgasm is washing over you. Logan cums as soon as he feels your pussy pulsating around him, fucking you until he's spilled every last drop of his warm seed deep inside you. When you're both finished, he stills inside you and rests his sweat-slicked forehead against yours as he catches his breath.

“You think it worked?” he grunts.

As if on cue, you hear the deadbolt unlock from the other side of the room. A second later, Storm’s voice sounds from your communication device that had fallen to the floor at some point.

“I don't feel like there’s a ticking time bomb inside my vagina anymore. So, I’d say yeah, it worked.”

He huffs a laugh, and then pulls out of you with a sigh.

“Logan,” you say, stopping him before he can pull away from you entirely. He stares down at you, waiting for you to continue.

You aren’t even sure what to say. Truthfully, you just weren’t ready for the moment to end and for things to go back to normal between the two of you.

“Thank you,” you spit out after a moment of loaded silence. “For… helping me,” you finish lamely.

“Don’t thank me, bub,” he chuckles. “It’s far from the worst thing that's happened to me in this place.”

••••••

You sleep the entire flight back to New York.

And as soon as you've showered and your head hits the pillow after returning home to the mansion, you sleep for another ten hours. Every time you wake up and think that you're finally well-rested, your body says otherwise and you're asleep again within minutes.

You wish you could say it’s a dreamless sleep, but that would be a lie. You see Logan’s face every time you close your eyes.

But it's different than the last dream you had of him. It isn’t images of his head between your thighs or his fingers slipping in and out of you.

It’s just.. him. His presence. The lingering feeling of his lips on yours, the light flavor of tobacco and menthol.

And the echo of the words he spoke as he teased you with the head of his cock and made you cum around his length.

“Don’t you worry, though. If you still wanna suck my dick when we get out of here, I’ll let you.”

“Fuckin’ ruinin’ me for anyone else, princess.”

When you wake, the ache between your thighs for him remains, despite the fact that the effects of the drugs had long since faded.

You know you shouldn’t read too far into words spoken while the two of you were locked in that room. But you can’t help but keep thinking that he wasn’t under the influence of chemical subjugation. Which leaves you questioning if he meant the things he said, or if he was just trying to lighten a scary, impossible situation for both of you.

You suppose there’s only one way to find out.

When you finally gather the courage the knock on his door, the sun has set and everyone has retired to their bedrooms for the evening.

You almost dash back into your own room during the few seconds that it takes him to open his door. He wears sweatpants, a plain black t-shirt, and a surprised expression.

“Hey, bub,” he greets you apprehensively. You don't normally make a habit of stopping by his room for late night chats. “Was starting to worry that you’d fallen into a coma.”

He opens his door wider, motioning with his head for you to come inside.

“Felt like it,” you give a small laugh. “Whatever was in that shit wore me out.” You take a seat on the edge of his bed, nervously wringing your hands together.

“You feeling better now?” he asks as he leans against his dresser, crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes trail over the large muscles of his chest and shoulders. The memory of his body caging you to the twin sized mattress in the basement of the bunker flashes through your mind.

You nod, hoping that it’s convincing.

“All things considered,” you shrug. “I just wanted to check in with you. Has Charles… said anything?”

What you're actually trying to ask is if Charles interrogated him about where the two of you were during the mission, why no one was able to contact either of you, and why you have been so exhausted that you've done nothing but sleep for the last day, but you trust that he knows what you mean.

“He hasn’t said anything, but..” he trails off, eyes darting around the room to avoid your gaze. “It’s Charles. Safe to assume he knows and is just being decent by not saying anything.”

“Right,” you murmur.

If he doesn’t already know, it's only a matter of time before you slip up and imagine the feeling of his lips on yours or the sounds of his moans in the middle of a mission debriefing.

“And the humans..? They’re all okay?”

“They are,” he assures you with a soft smile. “They’re all receiving medical attention, and most have been reunited with their loved ones.”

You breathe a sigh of relief. “No thanks to us, I guess.”

“No,” he laughs. “I suppose not.”

He pushes himself off the dresser, walking the few feet to where you perch at the edge of the mattress. He sits down beside you, his thigh brushing against yours. He smells of Old Spice deodorant and spearmint toothpaste, and it makes you the room spin around you.

“But everyone’s okay. They’re safe. And you’re safe. That’s what matters.”

You nod, not trusting your voice to speak. He’s close enough that you can practically feel the heat from his body. You risk looking at his face, your gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips.

“Yeah,” you finally agree. “You’re right. Well, I’ll let you get some rest. I just wanted to check in with—”

You start to stand up, when he cups your jaw in his hand and pulls your face to his. He’s hesitant in a way that he wasn’t yesterday – he gives you the opportunity to pull away before he sweeps his tongue across your bottom lip, as if asking for permission.

When you don’t give any kind of indication that you want him to stop, he pulls you flush against him and slips his tongue past your lips. You bring your hand to the back of his neck, twining your fingers through his hair.

He takes his time with you. Whereas yesterday’s kisses were filled with urgency and desperation, todays is tender and sensual. Now, you’re allowed the luxury of taking your time.

He lays down against the mattress, pulling you with him. You straddle his stomach, your lips never once breaking contact. His hands grip the globes of your ass, his fingers digging into the meat through your pajama pants.

You grind against the hard planes of his abdomen, earning a throaty growl from him.

He breaks away, nipping at your bottom lip with his teeth.

“I said something I didn’t entirely mean yesterday,” he whispers, out of breath.

“What?” you ask, sitting upright and looking down at him. “You aren’t going to let me suck your dick?”

“No,” he chuckles. “God, no. I meant that. If you still want to, that is—”

“What is it, then?” you interrupt with a playful nudge to his chest.

“I said you could go back to tolerating my existence. But I hope you wanna do a little bit more than just tolerate me.”

You laugh under your breath, leaning down to press your lips to his once more.

“I could see myself doing a little bit more than just tolerating you.”

oooops i accidentally wrote another fic where logan overhears something that he wasn't supposed to 😅🫠 did not originally plan for that to happen hahaha

check out some of my other logan fics -

by the end of the night

dog tags drabble

[physalian]

How To Make Your Writing Less Stiff 5

Movement

Dredging this back up from way back.

Make sure your characters move, but not too much during heavy dialogue scenes. E.g. two characters sitting and talking—do humans just stare at each other with their arms lifeless and bodies utterly motionless during conversation? No? Then neither should your characters. Make them…

Gesture

Wave

Frown

Laugh

Cross their legs/their arms

Shift around to get comfortable

Pound the table

Roll their eyes

Point

Shrug

Touch their face/their hair

Wring their hands

Pick at their nails

Yawn

Stretch

Sniff/sniffle

Tap their fingers/drum

Bounce their feet

Doodle

Fiddle with buttons or jewelry

Scratch an itch

Touch their weapons/gadgets/phones

Check the time

Get up and sit back down

Move from chair to tabletop

The list goes on.

Bonus points if these are tics that serve to develop your character, like a nervous fiddler, or if one moves a lot and the other doesn’t—what does that say about the both of them? This is where “show don’t tell” really comes into play.

As in, you could say “he’s nervous” or you could show, “He fidgets, constantly glancing at the clock as sweat beads at his temples.”

This site is full of discourse on telling vs showing so I’ll leave it at that.

Epithets

In the Sci-fi WIP that shall never see the light of day, I had a flashback arc for one male character and his relationship with another male character. On top of that, the flashback character was a nameless narrator for Reasons.

Enter the problem: How would you keep track of two male characters, one who you can't name, and the other who does have a name, but you can’t oversaturate the narrative with it? I did a few things.

Nameless Narrator (written in 3rd person limited POV) was the only narrator for the flashback arc. I never switched to the boyfriend’s POV.

Boyfriend had only a couple epithets that could only apply to him, and halfway through their relationship, NN went from describing him as “the other prisoner” to “his cellmate” to “his partner” (which was also a double entendre). NN also switched from using BF’s full name to a nickname both in narration and dialogue.

BF had a title for NN that he used exclusively in dialogue, since BF couldn’t use his given name and NN hadn’t picked a new one for himself.

Every time the subject of the narrative switched, I started a new paragraph so “he” never described either character ambiguously mid-paragraph.

Is this an extreme example? Absolutely, but I pulled it off according to my betas.

The point of all this is this: Epithets shouldn’t just exist to substitute an overused name. Epithets de-personalize the subject if you use them incorrectly. If your narrator is thinking of their lover and describing that person without their name, then the trait they pick to focus on should be something equally important to them. In contrast, if you want to drive home how little a narrator thinks of somebody, using depersonalizing epithets helps sell that disrespect.

Fanfic tends to be the most egregious with soulless epithets like "the black-haired boy" that tell the reader absolutely nothing about how the narrator feels about that black-haired boy, espeically if they're doing so during a highly-emotional moment.

As in, NN and BF had one implied sex scene. Had I said “the other prisoner” that would have completely ruined the mood. He’s so much more than “the other prisoner” at that point in the story. “His partner,” since they were both a combat team and romantically involved, encompassed their entire relationship.

The epithet also changed depending on what mood or how hopeless NN saw their situation. He’d wax and wane over how close he believed them to be for Reasons. NN was a very reserved character who kept BF at a distance, afraid to go “all in” because he knew there was a high chance of BF not surviving this campaign. So NN never used “his lover”.

All to say, epithets carried the subtext of that flashback arc, when I had a character who would not talk about his feelings. I could show you the progression of their relationship through how the epithets changed.

I could show you whenever NN was being a big fat liar about his feelings when he said he's not in love, but his narration gave him away. I could show you the exact moment their relationship shifted from comrades to something more when NN switched mid-paragraph from "his cellmate" to "his partner" and when he took up BF's nickame exclusively in the same scene.

I do the same thing in Eternal Night when Elias, my protagonist, stops referring to Dorian as "it" and "the vampire" instead of his name the moment they collide with a much more dangerous vampire, so jarringly that Elias notices in his own narration—the point of it being so explicit is that this degredation isn't automatic, it's something he has to conciously do, when everyone else in his clan wouldn't think twice about dehumanizing them.

—

Any literary device should be used with intent if you want those layers in your work. The curtains are rarely just blue. Whether it’s a simile with a deliberate comparison or an epithet with deliberate connotations, your readers will pick up on the subtext, I promise.

[ramonathinks]

matters of the heart — Nanami K.

summary: finding out your ex-boyfriend wrote a novel detailing your relationship isn’t how you expected this week to go and to make matters worse everyone on the internet now thinks your “character” is a total bitch. you decide to pay your ex a visit, but can you do that without succumbing to your natural urges? well, no!

tags: 18+(MDNI/blank blogs) slight porn with plot, oral (f! receiving), brief nipple sucking, daddy kink, creampie, i guess nanami is a bit toxic in this lol, nanami might also be a bit ooc in here

to the moaners: has this been sitting in the draft for about 3-4 months? yes! but happy birthday month, kento 😚. artwork by @/_3aem (twt); @ryomens-vixen (this was the fic I mentioned a while back) word count: 5.6k (yuck), I don't really like this

I’m going to kill him, that was the only thing on your mind once you closed out of the novel. Normally, your weekends were spent relaxing with a fruity bubble-gum colored cocktail but today was different. Shoko called your phone at exactly 9:26 am claiming it was time she divulged some news to you. At exactly 9: 28am, she sent you an online copy of a book titled, “Matters of the Heart” and told you it was nothing but a two or three hour read and then to call once you finished. 

The book had a slow start and it seemed pretty average, just any old love story. Lately, anything was getting published and it seemed that was the case here — wait, you paused your reading and sat up straight. No. Just no. Something just clicked for you which led you to completely start over from page one. 

The moment you finished, at exactly 1:01 pm, you grabbed a salmon colored low cut shirt and light washed jeans, slipped on your white shoes and hurried to get into your car. You didn’t need to call her phone because you were going to talk to her face to face; this situation warranted a real conversation. It was nothing but a 17 minute drive to Shoko’s house, so when you arrived at exactly 1:18 pm, her door was already open. “They’re bashing me, Shoko. Fucking bashing! How could he do this to me?” Were the first words that flew out of your mouth, holding your phone close to her face so that she could see the reviews. 

“Well, it’s not like anyone would know it’s you.” She yawned, handing you a cup of water – probably because of how crazy you looked – before she ushered you to a seat on the couch. A golden brown blanket was lazily thrown on the seat, which she hurried to move. You sat down and faced her with a look of what Shoko could only describe as pure sadness. She had seen you like this many times before, all because of one person. 

“You did.” You sniffled with an eye roll, you couldn’t help but feel uncertain. Reading this book only brought back more uncomfortable feelings towards the breakup and him. You thought that you were over him and the memories that the book produced made you question everything. One question remained which is: Why?

She giggled drily. “Hey, I read all his works. Pseudonym or not. He can’t hide from me. Plus, I know you both and everything that went on. I was there too, remember?” She mumbled the last part. “Maybe this was his way of coping?”

“It’s been years… and I heard he’s announced a sequel. Shoko, a SEQUEL! It’ll be released later this year.” You spoke in a shaking watery voice while she rubbed your back in an attempt of comfort. Your mind could only think of what the reactions would be to your character in the sequel… insecurities that you never knew were there flooded your mind.

“There was enough material for a sequel? I thought he covered everything…” Shoko rubbed her chin and looked deep in thought. You just stared at her, she couldn’t be serious. “Sorry, ignore me.” She shook her head ignoring your stare.

“Do I even confront him over this? A-and how would that make me look, like I still check on him right? I’ll look crazy and bitter… which apparently I am. Oh and I’m bitchy and a ‘total cunt’ as they’re putting online.” He didn’t know just how much you changed, he missed your growth. Rubbing your eyes, you ask:“Why did you tell me about this? What made you take so long… I just don’t understand.”

“Well, at first… I didn’t think you’d care.” Moving a strand of her nut-brown hair out of her face, she continued. “Then about a month ago, I decided it was right to tell you, just in case someone else pieced it together.”

“Gojo read it then, huh?” You mentally cringed at the thought. It was the only person you could think of who’d be so crude about it. He knew how damaging the breakup was for you but not as bad as Shoko knows. Now, you’re just grateful that she told you before he did.

“Yep, so I figured that I had to tell you before he did.” She clicked her tongue. “But let’s just calm down before you make any rash decisions on how to handle this.” 

“He wrote a fucking duality series about me, our relationship, our sex life and you want me to calm down? Are you listening to yourself? This is a serious matter. I am being called a bitch, a slut and more on Goodreads and multiple websites, reviews, etc. and he didn’t even have the audacity to give me a heads up. You had to call me.” You let out an unladylike snort.“Why couldn’t he stick to his mystery novels? Wasn’t he doing good at those?”

“Writer's block.” Shoko said in a singsong-like voice. “He hadn’t written a mystery book since you two broke up and then… he alerted his supporters he wanted to switch things up and then… that was that. Ladies loved it, a big hit. By the way, if you two were really fucking like that I need to se—”

“Shoko, now is not the time!” Your face felt hot all over, your mind racing. “I just can’t believe this.” You wrapped your arms around your body and squeezed, giving yourself one big squeeze. It was hard not to cry but you could feel it all in your throat. 

“I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think his intentions were to make you feel bad.” She hugged you to her chest, pressing a small kiss to the crown of your head. “I think he still loves you. I mean, isn’t this book proof? After all these years, he wrote about you.” 

“I’m sure he moved on by now.” You whispered, your eyes growing tired already and the day had barely started. “I just need to lay down. I need to rest.” Your mind seemed to finally grow calm and your breathing steady, a small hiccup now in your throat but with a gulp of water, you were better.

“Just stay here. I don’t trust you to be alone right now.” Shoko’s voice drowned out as sleep overtook you, you could only feel her warmth as she held you and honestly it was all you needed at this moment, Shoko always made you feel safe and you couldn’t thank her more than enough for that right now as you slept.

You were a light sleeper, it was always something that Nanami pointed out about you. He always said how he felt like he couldn’t leave the room while you slept even if it was to use the bathroom afraid to wake you. He knew how important sleep was to you and he’d risk having a bladder infection if you got all 8 hours that you required. Nanami was sweet and caring like that. 

You didn’t think you’d break up with him ever. He was the one for you and he always made that clear. He pampered you and even after the breakup – though you didn’t need it – he left you with a check for five thousand dollars, saying it was for his half of the lease for the next few months. 

The breakup was brutal for you. You almost quit working entirely. Shoko was the only person you’d confined into and the only friend you left to check in on you especially when you didn’t want to leave the house. She brought you groceries and helped you shower until you finally were able to get up again.

Though it was hard to believe, it was Nanami who broke up with you. You thought it was a joke, a cliche little joke. 

“Baby, I’m not joking.” His voice was quiet and husky, he spoke as if he was going to cry. “I just need some time to myself. I need to figure out if this is what I want. You don’t have to wait for me, you just keep on living your life and being happy. But… I think it’s time we let this go.” 

You didn’t cry in front of him. You didn’t cry when he packed his things up. You certainly didn’t cry when he shut the door, leaving his key on the table because you knew he was joking. He had to be. But when you called him and his number was disconnected and you were blocked on any form of social media… that was when you broke down and cried. 

It happened out of nowhere. You overanalyzed every aspect of your relationship for where you went wrong. You wrote down every conversation you could remember and dissected it word by word. You watched every video and picture you had of the two of you looking for a bit of regret or anything on his face. You read every text message, looking for malice. He said he needed time to figure out if he wanted this but he always made it clear that he did and even that he was looking forward to having kids together, you two had even gone ring shopping months ago. 

You didn’t sleep and when you did, it was only for 4 hours and sometimes barely that. Your heart had an ache in it and the tears wouldn’t stop. You could only think why wasn’t I enough?

When you opened your eyes Shoko was still holding you and a small smile grew on your lips. “Thank you Shoko.” You knew if you could count on anyone, it was always going to be her. She was the one who pieced you back together and made sure that life didn’t destroy you and you couldn’t help but to be grateful. 

“Of course. ‘M going to let you spend the night here, okay? Let’s get some takeout and watch your favorite movies, how’s that sound?” She knew the way to your aching heart like the back of her hand. 

“It sounds amazing!” You stretched your arms out wide, leaning off of her and sitting up. “Should we start with Uptown Girls or Legally Blonde?” 

It took two days before you confronted him. Shoko was adamant about not giving you his address and you were tempted to get it from her phone. But luckily, you wore her down, she was probably tired of you bringing him or his book in every conversation. So now you stood there, nerves washing over you in waves.

The mahogany colored door stared at you – mocked you – and you returned the glare before you knocked on it, hard. This was just a door and you were angry at the person behind said door, not the door itself. 

It was almost like he was waiting on you because the door unlocked and opened. He even stepped aside to let you in, quiet. His straw-colored hair was parted differently and he even looked taller or broader – you couldn’t completely tell – but he looked different… seemed different. The atmosphere around him made your stomach clench and it made you mad; why did it feel like only you suffered from the breakup? Here he was – strong and tall – and you were nothing or rather the same.

“You wrote a romance erotica novel about our relationship?” It was what you practiced saying before you got out of your car – making sure your voice didn’t tremble – this time, it didn’t. 

“Well, hello to you too. Even after three and a half years, you still like to get straight to the point.” He grinned, putting a hand on your back to guide you to a seat on his couch. “I must ask, what makes you think it’s about you?” He does a slight laugh and raises his brow.

“We have the same initials, almost the same name. Are you kidding me?” You retort, folding your arms across your chest. You tried to ignore the fuzzy feeling in your chest that occurred when you heard his voice after so long, hearing him and seeing that damned smile… your nose scrunched up.

“Sorry, I just didn’t know you kept up with me… with my books…” He muttered, glancing your way, a demure look in his amber eyes. “Should I be flattered?” Almost in an instant, he turned on a slight cockiness to himself, though his body language showed his nervousness – his thigh bouncing a bit and his fingers tapping on the couch handle. A light sense of relief filled your system knowing that you weren’t the only one being affected by this.

“I don’t.” You inhaled deeply. “Shoko told me about it and then, I checked it out.” Fiddling with your fingers and even picking at your nails, that was your tell all sign of nervousness and right now you were engaging in it more than ever before. 

“I wanted to tell you or rather, to ask you. I know you got the voicemails I sent last year…and then you kept dodging my calls.” He tells you, you could feel his eyes on you – or more so your fingers… the nasty habit that he had finally got you to stop all those years ago rushing right back in an instant.

“Writing a book to trash me and our relationship… to make you look like some sort of… ugh, like you’re so amazing and I’m just shit. Yeah, that certainly got my attention.” If you were coming off bitchy or rude right there, you couldn’t care less especially when there were worse things that you could’ve said or even could’ve done at this moment. You really wanted to slap him. 

“Is that all you got out of it?” He asks with his head low, almost as if he was admitting defeat or as if he couldn’t believe you came up with something so trivial. 

“Was there anything else to get?” You counter, shifting your body towards him. Maybe it was best that you sat down and actually listened to the author and his interpretations of his work.

“How about that I love you regardless of any flaws… how about I find your stubbornness and attitude sexy and how I knew this breakup would be good for you. I was holding you back. I mean, I heard you got promoted 3 times since we broke up… I just felt like I was changing you, hindering your growth. I needed to reflect on myself and this book helped that.” He tapped his fingers against his thigh, yet another sign of his anxiousness. “Believe it or not, I still care about you. No matter what happened between us.”

“What happened? You mean when you decided to just leave? You could've told me everything you just told me and I would’ve understood better. We could’ve talked and came to a compromise. You don’t understand what you put me through after it.” You were close to tears but you straighten your posture and sniffled, it was best not to think about what happened before. “I just needed a bit of closure too, I guess that’s why I came. I just was caught off guard. You could’ve knocked on my door or something, forced me to answer… forced me to talk.”

He met your eye for the first time since you came over. “You wouldn’t have listened,” He huffs. “Didn’t I mention how stubborn you are? Plus, I meant what I said. I needed time to myself and I think we both did.”

“I guess…But Nanami, this book was too much. A letter would’ve been fine if you needed closure, don’t you think?” You see his lips quirk up a bit before he licks them, trying not to laugh it seems.

“My publisher got a hold of some of the documents where I was just going over things, writing here and there. She loved the idea… plus I’m in a contract for six books so I had to put something out soon, it had already been a year.” He told you, sitting his chin on top of his knuckles. “I honestly didn't mean to hurt you. I was writing for fun… reminiscing about us and then later down the line, I realized I was writing because I wanted you to read it, I just didn’t exactly know how to get you to since you were very adamant on avoiding me, which is understandable. But regardless, I didn’t think it’d get on the bestseller list or for the reviews to get so harsh.” He admits, reaching for your hand before his hand froze in midair and he stopped himself, choosing instead to put it behind his head.

“Is there anyway you can stop the sequel from being published then… since you got my attention after all this time?” You asked, putting your most dazzling smile on, hoping to sway him. 

“I can talk to my publisher. Everything’s in print and materials are already done… but I’ll try to see if I can stop production.” His adam’s apple bobbles when he does a harsh swallow. “Are we… okay? Do you forgive me?”

The question made you pause. He always made it hard for you to not forgive him; it took one look or a smile and a small explanation and it made it easy to fall in love with him all over again, no matter what he did… it seems. But it made you ask yourself: Were you too easy? Did you really forgive him? It was thoughts like that swirling around the corners of your mind. You wanted to forgive him, he was just writing and telling a story… but it was your story, not just his. Using this for your attention when he could’ve written about anything else, he didn’t have to. Were you just ready to forgive him because you still loved him? 

You hadn’t realized how deep in thought you were until you felt the couch dip and even then, your mind was still spirling.“You don’t have to…” His voice brings you out of your thoughts, his body so close to yours that it was getting hard to breathe. He still smelled the same; citrus and woodsy and it was easy to get yourself sucked back in. 

“So you can write another book about my stubbornness?” You give a quiet giggle, scooting a bit away from him, seeing him frown from the corner of your eyes. You didn’t want to fall back but he made it all so simple. It was easy and you were already falling back on him and you didn’t need that… Did you?

“Baby…” Your body buzzed and hummed, turning to him with wide eyes. “I’ll do anything I can to make this right. Anything for you to forgive me… If they can’t stop publication, what can I do to make us right?” He was doing more than a gaze, he was full on staring and from how close he was it was hard to avoid. 

“Nanami I–” You stopped yourself. You couldn’t really think of anything he could do but you could think of several unhealthy things you could do to ruin your progress on going over him. He had betrayed you and made you a laughing stock so why are you stuck thinking about forgiveness when you should be leaving.

“I never stopped loving you.” His fingers traced up and down your pants but his eyes stayed on yours. “I never thought about anyone but you… I never slept with anyone… it’s always been you. But, I understand what I put you through and I’ll apologize every second until you forgive me…” The blond man who you never saw shed a tear looked more than close to it. “But just please… forgive me.”

“I’m sorry, honest.” He tries again after being met with absolute silence. “Just… let me show you, okay?” His breath tickles your face for a second and when you look into his cocoa brown eyes, you feel everything you once felt again.

Memories of good times dulls out the odd feelings in the pit of your stomach – the confusion and pain – instead are replaced with joy. The trip to Malaysia where he rubbed sunscreen on your entire body and laid back to read a book and you watched as his eyes kept drifting to you while you played in the cerulean water; how you kept begging him to come in until he complied and how eventually in the early hours of the morning when you wanted another dip, he fucked you twice — once in the golden lush sand and another in the cool ocean water. 

His face is in your thighs and you couldn’t help but feel better, feeling his breath fanning so close to your pants covered pussy, your body felt scorching hot. He’s grumbling, “Will you let me make it up to you? Will you let me show you how sorry I am?” 

You must’ve nodded because he was already unbuttoning your pants and helping you lay back, pulling your shirt up just a bit to see your perky tits – he must’ve remembered how you never wore bras unless you felt it was necessary, which was mainly work or any important events. 

He blew a bit on your hardening nipples before he took one into his mouth – playing biting them with a smug look on his face before he began licking around your areolas and kissing around the swells of your breast. He doesn’t say anything but he looks deep in thought as he kisses down your body, his fingers scraping down your sides as he works your pants and your panties all the way down. Bringing his head up for a minute, he looks in your face. “I love you.” He says it simply, heavy emotions swirling in his brown eyes.

Removing your pants and underwear completely from your body, he spreads your thighs and looks over your body – a trimmed low pretty bush sits between your thighs and it makes him smile, he always loved seeing the curled hair on your delicate lower lips. He spreads your pussy, watching the skin stretch with a deep smile on his face. You could feel yourself … the wetness leaking down under your body and it made you cringe, but the way he was staring at you made the insecurities vanish. “All this for me?” He takes a tentative lick before he slurps, clutching your hips. “I know you like to run… but I need you to stay put, got it?” It was hard for you to listen to him, your head already fuzzy and the thoughts swirling around were only about him, nothing more. 

Then your body bucks up, “Wait–!” A broken moan escapes your mouth when he presses a soft wet kiss to your clit. Nanami had always been gentle and very careful whenever he ate you out; making sure his tongue was wet enough and that he wasn’t too rough. His tongue was wide enough to make your back arch, your body leaving the couch when it finally hit your clit and he gave you no time to recover before he peeled back the hood, sitting the tip of his tongue there and rapidly flicked at the bud. 

Hearing the lewd squelching noises coming from the mixture of your cunt and his mouth made you close your eyes, squeezing them shut tightly. He spits before he licks it up and down your aching slit, nudging his tongue inside only slightly, much to your dismay. You’re gasping every second when more of his tongue slips in and out of your pussy; sliding a bit more each time and it makes your thighs shake. When he finally slips his entire tongue inside of you, curling it just enough that you can feel it everywhere, your legs attempt to close up around his head. “Please– ‘m so… soo–oh…” His fingers join in on the fun and in small sloppy circles he rubs your clit, pressing down on the pearl while his tongue continues flicking inside of you. The split second that you open your eyes, his are already on yours and it was that moment, that made your body tense up and for you to cum. 

It happens fast, clear sticky wetness leaks out of you and Nanami still tries to get more of it on his tongue, catching anything that drips and sucking on your folds. “Always so fucking good…” He mutters, spreading you again and smearing more of your slick on his face by shaking his head between your thighs, so that he’s completely covered in you. 

When he moves his head, embarrassment comes over you, looking at his wet face… even his forehead was wet and you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, baby but… I’ll be right back, stay wet for me.”

Your heart hammers against your chest, lying there on this now wet couch. You didn’t come over here for this and yet here you are… about to get fucked and really, it was no turning back now. You’d been on dates with men after Nanami but they never lasted past the second date and you certainly hadn’t had sex in a while, but he made you come apart like it was nothing.  

But then again, Nanami knew your body… so of course this was a walk in the park for him. It honestly annoyed you right now, you couldn’t even make yourself cum half the time especially these last few years and now, barely an hour here and he has you right where he wanted you… bare and practically back in love with him.

Nanami came back with a fresh face and unbuttoned pants that he was currently pulling down. You clenched around nothing, your mind thinking only of the perfect dick that was going to be coming out of those pants. You licked your lips, this would be the first dick you saw in years and it was his. 

His drooling cock slapped his stomach and you swallowed, your mouth felt unreasonably dry. The length of his cock always impressed you, standing tall at seven and a half inches, he shakes with laughter which snaps you out of your daze. “Now let me look at you.” His whispers and even though he already saw you, both years ago and right now, you can’t help but feel hot all over again. He’s staring – drawing his eyes down every inch of your body –  focusing on your breast before getting to the stare of the show yet again. He smirks, laying you back down, pressing his body against yours to kiss you. 

Your breath was caught in your throat, his tongue still tasted of you and his hands cups your jaw. He’s gentle, his tongue moving around your mouth messily before he stops, saliva breaking apart when he does so. His fingers make a ghostly featherlight touch on your clit that makes you jump, the head of his cock at your entrance. He holds out his hand, close to your mouth. “Spit.” Gathering up some, you spit in the palm of his hand and stroke it along his length, huffing at the sensation. 

He pushes in, taking his time to work himself inside of you, a strained expression on his face. Hips pulled back, he focuses more on just the tip of himself fucking you, watching your pussy stretch with just the tiniest bit of resistance. Inching himself inside, you watch his torso flex and he groans, obscene noises plop and plap around the apartment, his heavy cock pushing in and out of you, your toes curling. 

“Pussy still mines, right? Didn’t give it away, did you?” You’re struggling to talk - to fucking breathe - your eyes rolling back and your jaw slacked but you babble out a soft ‘no’ which makes him finally thrust in you harder, completely bottoming out. You feel him in your belly, feeling full and embarrassingly wide with him stretching you out, his balls sitting on the crest of your ass before he moves. 

He moves you a bit, your bodies flush to each other and he moves his hips in harsh circles, his pelvis so close to your clit. His hands on your calves, he pushes your legs so that they rest on his shoulders, your knees touching your ears makes you tighten up and he groans above you.

“Nanami I-” You call out, eyes closed with pleasure shaking through your core, wetness slapping between the both of you. 

“Nanami? No, call me what you used to call me.” His hips slowed down, a whine escaping your lips. His cock dragging inside of your walls, pulling out slowly, awaiting your response. 

“Please…don’t slow down, Ken—” before the word even left your lips, his hand slapped your cunt, leaving your legs shaking a bit and your eyes snapping open. Drops of tears run down your cheeks and you sniffle, reaching for him… you couldn’t help but feel so small in his presence.

“Say it.” Then, you knew what he meant. A name that now feels foreign in your brain and even when it leaves your mouth, it comes out in a strange rattled whimper.

“Oh, oh… daddy, ‘m sorry. Please, keep fucking me. It’s so goooood!” He’s grinning before the words leave your mouth.

“Still my good girl huh? Always so fucking good for daddy.” He licks up your neck and it makes you tremble, your tongue lolling out a bit and he moves to suckle on it. “Did you skip over all those sex scenes or did you rub this pussy out to them?” He asks, his fingers digging in the back of your thighs. 

You choked out, sobbing, “I did, daddy… But I-I don’t want to remember everything.” 

“You don’t remember all the words I used to describe this cunt? This pretty pussy? That changed his life… my life? That made him always crawl back? That made him so fucking hard? The pretty words I used to describe you? To describe how pretty she always looked when he fucked her? How his heart felt like it was going to explode when she looked at him too long because he loved her so damn much?” He’s groaning in your ear, thrusting into you, his depth reaching your g-spot, your pussy spasming and begging for his cum at every word he uttered. 

Pumping himself inside, you could see the white creaminess that was on his cock, most likely because of you, he was constantly fucking the cream inside of you, your nails digged into his arms and he moaned at the feeling. Your stomach tightens and you move to push him away, “I’m going to c–cum!” You felt him throbbing inside of you, signaling that he was close too. “Please, cum inside of me… I can’t take it.” You couldn’t stand it any longer, it’s been years and you needed him to fill you up. He stopped for a moment, changing positions so that you’ll be sitting on his lap, grabbing your hips and forcibly bouncing you on his dick, dangerously slow. 

Wetness gushes on him as his tip hits you from a new angle, seeing the outline of him in your tummy, he’s stretching you again with each nasty thrust. Each drag of his cock making you go crazy and the aching between your legs continue, your body shaking and both of you moaning loudly and over each other. 

Finally, your orgasm rattled and shook your entire body, your pussy sucking him in, milking him for all he’s worth and it makes his body shake and he releases inside of you, trying to stay quiet as his body jerks up, unable to stop himself from fucking you through both of your orgasms.

It’s quiet for a while, just heavy breathing with you laying on his chest. “I love you too…” Your voice is scratchy and your face tear stained. He doesn’t say anything, his cock still pulsing inside of you.

“I know. I love you too, never stopped.” 

“Did you at least read the acknowledgements or did you just dive right in?”

“I never read the acknowledgements for books, thought you would’ve remembered that.” You watch him get up, walking around the living room, looking for something. You were both still naked and the entire room smelled of sex. 

“I did remember that and when you barged in my door, I already knew that you still hadn’t changed when it came to that. Here, read this part right here.” He brings you over a copy and you run your fingers around the softback cover with a small smile on your face; this silly thing had brought you both back together and right now you could give less than a fuck about those reviews. 

Feeling the spine of the book, you open it and can practically smell the scent of an unopened new book. Turning the first few pages, you go to the one page acknowledgment and read it aloud: “She might not read this book. But if she does, by chance. I hope she knows that I still love her.” You wiped your eyes and smiled. “You’re an asshole, you know?”

He lets out a hearty laugh, “I know baby.” Kissing the top of your head, he gets up and grabs his phone from the kitchen counter and you follow him. “I think I have enough material to write a third book now.” He grabs his phone and starts typing, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was deep in thought. Attempting to grab his phone he chuckles and uses his height to his advantage by standing taller.

Standing on the tips of your toes you snort, “Don’t even joke about that!” But a smile takes over your face and he can’t help but smile too. 

[neeeooon]

hi hi this is my 2nd time requesting alrdy 🥶😅😅.... lol anyway, I wanna I request for bllk boys meeting reader's parents unexpectedly. like reader's parents catch them being very undeniably couple-y. Very very awkward situation 😋☝️☝️

I rlly wanna see this specifically with Isagi, Reo, Shidou, Yuki, and Rin. Other characters would be fun too if you want🔥🔥🔥

hihi welcome back 😈 okay i think i gotchu I HOPE YOU ENJOYY

when your parents walk in on you ;

bf bllk x gn!reader. 16+ cw: suggestive!!! kms jokes in isagi’s + reo’s

isagi yoichi

-> isagi just scored the winning goal in the final nel game, and he still hadn’t come down from that high hours later

-> your fingers dragged through his hair and down his neck, scraping the back of his jersey as he shoved you against your bedroom wall. your parents were out for date night, giving you plenty of time alone with your boyfriend

-> it was supposed to give you plenty of time alone with your boyfriend

-> isagi groaned against your mouth, his fingers digging into your hips. and then you heard it. “y/n? are you alright, sweetheart?”

-> you barely had time to shove isagi off before your bedroom door was pushed open, and your mother let out a loud gasp upon seeing you, lips swollen and t-shirt rumpled. “m-mom! what are you doing home?”

-> “your father got food poisoning. hi! you must be yoichi!” your face burned as she approached your boyfriend with an outstretched hand. “mom!” “uh, y-yes ma’am.” he greeted as he shook it with two hands. “it’s nice to finally meet you.”

-> you wanted to die. after taking way too long to talk to your boyfriend, your mom finally left. “door open, kids!” you dropped your face into your hands and groaned, “i am going to kill myself.” “suicide pact?” “deal.”

mikage reo

-> you had study sessions with reo all the time. your parents knew he was intelligent, and though they’d never met him, they trusted the two of you to keep things innocent when he was over

-> and yet your homework was long forgotten as you sat comfortably in your boyfriend’s lap, back pressed against the desk as he kissed you hard

-> you didn’t hear the door open. you didn’t know your parents were home until you caught a glimpse of your mother’s stance from behind reo’s head, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she tapped a manicured finger against her forearm

-> you practically fell out of reo’s lap and landed with a thump. “mom! uh, what are you doing home so early?”

-> she isn’t impressed. “i already have a headache. i’m assuming i don’t have to stay up any later to give you both the talk, do i?”

-> aaaaand you’re ready to curl in on yourself and die. “oh my god.” “guessed not. nice to meet you, reo. make sure you’re home before tomorrow.” “you too, mrs l/n. i’ll be leaving now.”

shidou ryusei

-> “my parents are going to be home any minute…” you sighed when shidou slipped one hand beneath the waistband of your sweats, the other slowly making its way under your shirt. “lucky for you, cutie, i only need one to make you—”

-> “l/n y/n?!” you scrambled out from under your boyfriend, clutching your hands to your chest as you gaped at your parents standing in your doorway

-> “haven’t you heard of knocking?!” “this is our house. and we were coming to wish you a goodnight! who’s he?!”

-> you knew for a fact that your parents knew you had a boyfriend. however, you always described him as someone sweet who takes care of you and makes you laugh. your parents seemed caught off guard by the spiky pink hair and heavy eyeliner

-> your silence gives shidou the chance to reach a hand out for your mother to shake. “it’s a pleasure. i’m shidou ryusei.” your mother eyes his hand warily before shaking it. “hm. mrs. l/n.”

-> thankfully your father has enough trust in you to gently pull your mother from your room. he quietly greets shidou, compliments his hair, and wishes you both a goodnight

-> “i cannot believe that just happened,” you groan as you flop back onto your bed. shidou falls beside you and places a soft kiss to your neck. “oh well. your dad seems cool, at least. want me to leave?” “uh uh. you promised me a minute.” “😈”

yukimiya kenyu

-> you’re watching a movie with your boyfriend, parents visiting your uncle and aunt, when you’re suddenly bored with the film on screen

-> quietly, you slip from the couch into a kneeling position, yukimiya’s eyes following you the whole way down. “uh, y/n?” “mhm?” “what are you doing?” “nothing~” “what if your parents—“ “i checked their location. they’re still forty-five minutes away.”

-> you move directly in front of your boyfriend, hands sliding up from his shins to his knees when the door suddenly opens

-> your dad freezes when his eyes land on you and yukimiya. “dad!” you shout, jumping to your feet as your boyfriend hurridly throws a blanket over his hips. “why didn’t you knock?!”

-> he has a hand over his eyes in a tired fashion. “i bought this house. why did you decide to do that in the living room?” “… oh.” “yeah, oh.” “.. this is my boyfriend, yukimiya.” “i figured.”

-> yukimiya doesn’t trust himself to stand, so he waves as your dad from the couch. “n-nice to meet you..?” your mother finally appears, smiling brightly and cluelessly when she spots your boyfriend. “oh! you must be kenyu!” “hello, mrs l/n.” “we were just heading to bed. enjoy the rest of your movie!”

-> your parents leave, not without your father giving you “the look” before trailing after your mother. you drop onto the couch with a sigh. “your house next time?” “definitely.”

itoshi rin

-> you were innocently teaching rin how to cook. alone. while your parents were at work. they only agreed since you promised to introduce your boyfriend to them (and cook dinner)

-> it starts out that way. you and rin, side by side, mixing ingredients and making sauces. however, your fingers are now running over your boyfriend’s shoulder muscles as he carefully lifts you onto the counter, never breaking your kiss

-> you weren’t quite sure what set you off, but you suddenly needed to be as close to your boyfriend as humanly possible. he didn’t have any objections, hands trailing from your hips to your back when the soft jingle of keys breaks you apart

-> “was that—“ “no… no way, right?” wrong. the door swings open, and rin flies to the other side of the kitchen as he pretends to read the recipe book

-> “y/n!” your mother greets, heels in hand as she comes over to kiss your cheek. she pauses in front of you, wiggles her eyebrows at your flushed face, and shoots a secretive smile in rin’s direction. “aw, my little lovebirds~ i’m so happy to finally meet you, rin!”

-> rin waves awkwardly from his side of the kitchen, earning a little laugh from your mother. she sighs, “oh, to be young and in love again! i’m headed to the store. i’ll be back in twenty minutes for dinner. twenty.” she winks at you before vanishing out the front door, leaving you shocked to the core

-> “i—“ “so that really just happened?” “well, at least my mother likes you..?” you finish dinner as quickly as possible, keeping a safe distance away from each other, and groan in embarrassment when your mom jiggles her keys and kicks the door before opening it. “let’s eat!”

pt 2

[witherby]

If the last fic takes place before the Batfam knew about Conners existence, I just wanna see Mouse explain to them that a Superman cosplayer saved them lol

I love that. "Yeah some cosplayer saved my life. 10/10 would let him do it again."

Littlest Wayne: Information Gathering

Masterlist is Here!

"You and Superman need to come straight to the Cave when you return to Earth."

"I miss you, too, babe," Hal smirks, gliding just above the ground on a planet he and Clark are guarding for a major diplomatic conference. "Tryna get the debrief out of the way so we can get me out of by boxer briefs right after?"

"Mouse was in a hostage situation in Metropolis today that was too overcast for them to get out of."

Hal's good mood plummets. He almost shouts for Clark to get his ass over to him so they can immediately head back.

"Are they —"

"Alive, and relatively unharmed considering the severity of the event."

"What does relatively mean in this context, B?" Hal snaps. "Relatively unharmed by vigilante standards or by civilian standards? Are they in the hospital?"

"Some bad bruising to the temple and a low-grade burn on the right arm. They're safe."

Bruce's calm tone and steady cadence helps relax Hal. His shoulders un-tense and he lets out a sigh.

"Alright. But there's more to it, otherwise you wouldn't have contacted me."

Bruce hums in that quiet way he does when he's pleased by Hal's deductive reasoning. It makes him smile and miss him that much more, and he's only been gone two days.

"They were rescued by a new Meta. Called himself Superman."

"Look at you, crackin' jokes on an official League line. Never thought I'd see the day!"

"..."

"You're not joking. There's a second Superman flying around?"

"A Superboy, by the looks of it. He's the real deal — the flight, the strength, and the suit all points to another Kryptonian. This will make three, after Supergirl."

Hal furrows his brow. He lets his feet hit the ground and starts to pace, kicking up little bits of purple dirt. This planet is ridiculously fragile. It's part of the reason he and Clark are protecting it during these peace talks.

"Is it a baby? Don't remember either Kara or Lois looking pregnant."

"A teenager. Around Mouse's age, by the looks of him, and very inexperienced from what scattered footage I can find of the event."

"Which makes no sense. There's something up if he's a teen but still can't use his powers right. Supes told us he could hone his almost perfectly before he was old enough to drive a car. A new scheme by Luthor or Waller, maybe?"

"I knew I married you for a reason."

"Keep praising me like that and there won't be time for a debrief when I get home."

Bruce hums again. His considering sound. The Green Lantern suit feels very constricting, all of a sudden.

"You don't need to rush your mission to get back. There is one more thing you need to know prior to return, however."

"I'm all ears."

"Mouse described the Superboy as... handsome."

Hal falls to his hands and knees, kicking up a small cloud of purple dust.

"No, no, nooo! They're just a baby!"

"Well. They're seventeen."

"Well I say they're too young for romance! Yesterday they were afraid of Cooties!!"

"Time flies. It's inevitable."

"We're gonna wrap these peace talks up tonight."

Bruce sounds amused on the other end of the line, like he hasn't just crushed Hal's entire world three sentences ago.

"You aren't due back for another week."

"We're wrapping it up tonight!"

"Okay. Agent A will know to set your plate tomorrow."

"Can he make some of those mini quiches? I'm gonna need comfort food to get over this."

"I'll pass the request along."

"And can you wear the see-through robe you were given after you shot that Dior commercial?"

"...if you slick back your hair, yes."

Hal grins. He's still not happy about his youngest kid growing up so fast, but this is a nice consolation prize.

--

True to his word, Hal and Clark get the peace talks concluded by nightfall and head back to Earth. Clark is given the general run-down of what happened on the way, and his curiosity and insistence on getting answers lets Hal know it'll be a long night. He's gonna slick his hair back anyway. He misses his husband, dammit.

You sit at the meeting table in the Bat Cave, feet propped on top exactly like Jason does it, with your hands stuffed in the pockets of your hoodie. You stare groggily at Hal and Clark as they fly in from their trip, shuffling to your feet to give them both sleepy hugs.

"Welcome back," you yawn. "Dad said you have questions?"

"Hey, Mousey," Hal grins, ruffling your hair. You grumble and wave his hand away, then grumble louder when Clark does the exact same thing. "Just got some follow-up questions about the field trip, then we'll let you get back to bed."

You go back to your seat and slump into it, rubbing your eyes. "Kay."

"Did the boy you met tell you his name?" Clark asks, sitting to your right. There's a dossier sitting on the table that he flips open, glancing over the information Bruce collected with Tim's help. He frowns at a still image pulled from his interview on TV.

"Just called himself Superman," you explain. "He had a version of your suit on. It looked legit. I'm guessing he's not your son, based on the way you're looking at the file."

"He is not. Did he seem to be acting maliciously or under someone's control? Was he flesh and blood or robotic?" Clark asks. "Did he hurt anyone? Did he try to hurt you?"

"No," you say, "he was warm. He's flesh and blood and definitely saved us from that fire. In fact he seemed...uh.."

You wave your hand around vaguely and pick over the best way to phrase this.

"Okay! There's a boy at school named Rory. He transferred to Gotham Academy this year after being homeschooled."

"Mousey," Hal speaks up, "I know you're tired, but we kinda gotta stay on track —"

"I am!" You insist. "I am, I swear. Look, it was obvious Rory was homeschooled because he didn't know how to, like, socialize properly? He asked a lot of questions that feel like common-sense if you're used to going to public schools and talking to people outside your family. The Superman cosplayer kind of acted like that."

"Cosplayer?" Clark mouths at Hal, who waves him off.

"So you think he's never been out there doing any hero stuff before that day?"

You shrug and nod. "I think he's never been out at all before that day. He reminded me a lot of Rory on his first day of school."

"But he didn't hurt you?" Hal asks.

"I promise, he didn't. He spoke to me like twice and then brought me to the EMTs to get looked at. Then Jason showed up and brought me home after making sure the school knew I wouldn't be taking the bus back from Metropolis."

"Last question," Clark promises, recapturing your attention. "Can you find him right now? With your shadows?"

"Uh, I can try."

Your gaze becomes a little distant. The shadows cast from one of the overhead lights shifts and dissolves into the ground, zipping out of the cave. Hal and Clark wait silently as you work, feeling for the presence of the boy that saved you just a day before.

"... M e t r o p o l i s..." You mutter, voice taking on that faint, echoing quality it does whenever you speak through the darkness. "...A r o o m...c o n c i o u s...k n o w s I s e e..."

"Come back, Mouse," Hal says, urgent. You take a moment to get your bearings, yawning and rubbing your face. "He knows you used your power to find him?"

You nod. "He saw my shadow move in the corner of his room. Guys, it's so bare and dark. He's got a cot, an alarm clock, and one blanket in there. It looks like some room you'd stick a sick person in to quarantine them."

"Where in Metropolis is he? That doesn't sound like the Solitary Confinement cells in the prison."

"It's not a jail. It looked like a lab, I think?"

"Lex Luthor," Hal and Clark state at the same time. Clark stands up, drawing you into another gentle hug, then heads for the exit.

"Thank you for your help, Mouse! Sleep well."

"Bye, uncle Clark. Have a good night," you call after him. When Hal stands, you rise with him, stretching. "Can I go to bed, now?"

"Yeah, hon," Hal nods, pressing his hand to your back and guiding you to the stairs. "We'll head up together. I'll tell your dad what we learned when he comes back from patrol."

"Kay," you mumble, climbing the steps with another wide yawn. "M'sleeping in tomorrow. Being up at two am sucks."

Hal chuckles. "Yeah, it does. We'll put your breakfast in some Tupperware for when you get up, then."

Once the two of you climb through the grandfather clock and reenter the manor proper, you give Hal one more goodnight hug, then excuse yourself to go to bed. Your eyes are closed as you shuffle into your room and nudge the door closed behind you, navigating the space from memory. It's not until you start climbing back into bed that you feel a dip in it that shouldn't be there.

The dip of another person's weight.

You snap your eyes open and you inhale to scream. A hand presses itself to your mouth, and you find yourself staring at those brilliant blues from yesterday.

"Waitwaitwait-" the boy gasps, whisper-shouting. "Please!!"

You push his hand off and he lifts them both up in placation, floating off the bed and several feet away from you.

"What do you want!?" You whisper-yell back. "Why are you in my room!? That's creepy!"

He grimaces, knees curling towards his chest. In the low light, you can see color painting his cheeks.

"I wanted to come see you," he murmurs.

"Why?"

"I don't know your name."

You're completely flummoxed. You shake your head and shrug.

"Do you need to?" You ask.

The boy floats a little closer, his gaze intense. He looks at you like...he looks at you like you're the most important thing in the world right now. It makes your stomach swoop.

"Yes," he says, completely sincere. "I'm...I can't...there's this..."

His brow furrows. He's exceptionally easy to read, like he's never known how to be anything except fully, authentically himself. It's a welcome change in a family of vigilante detectives with emotional intimacy issues. It'll help you know if he's trying to deceive you, too.

Quietly, you give him your name. His eyes snap to yours and he repeats it, lips shaping the vowels and consonants with an unusual reverence. You can feel your own face getting a little warm.

"I'm...Conner," the boy says. His eyes dart to your mouth. You oblige.

"Hi, Conner," you mutter. His whole body un-tenses, looking like a puppet with his strings cut as he almost dangles in the air.

"Can I —" Conner cuts himself off. He drifts closer to you. You shift back, feeling cornered from where you kneel in your bed. "Ah. I wanted... I don't know how to say..."

Exhausted and confused, you gesture at him to hurry it up a little. You know you should probably alert someone that the new Meta boy is literally floating four feet away from you right now, but you know he isn't here to cause harm.

"It's late," you speak up. "Can you try a little harder to get the point across so I can sleep?"

"Yes," Conner says quickly, obediently. "Call for me."

You blink heavily. Your mind feels like sludge. "Elaborate."

"When you need something," he specifies. "If you're in danger, or lonely, or just...or just want to. Please. Call for me and I'll come to you."

"Why?" You yawn. It's getting harder to stay conscious. You let your body fall over until you collide with the pillows, eyes slipping closed. "Why me?"

Conner floats above you, reaching down to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear with more reverence than is appropriate for having barely met. His fingers brush against the bruise on your temple, featherlight.

"Because it's you," he says, as your consciousness fades. "Something in my heart is yours... I hope that's okay."

You hum, managing a barely discernible "kay," in your last seconds of awareness before sleep pulls you under.

In your subconscious mind, you register warmth wrap around you for a moment, and then you're alone with nothing but a cracked window as evidence anyone had ever been there.

[miaoua3]

Seventeen-How Would They Protect You From Creepy Men Hitting On You?

had a very scary situation a few days ago where a man tried to constantly talk to me while i was waiting on my bus, even giving me advice that i could take another bus and still end up on the same station and that “he could show me the way from the station to my dorm”. in that moment i wished that i were a man or that i had a boyfriend, because if i were either of those, none of that would’ve happened. apparently if you are a woman, even when you’re constantly moving away from them, giving them one worded answer, as long as you are alone-they won’t leave you alone. after i lied to him about having a friend pick me up from a different place and walked away while crying, i desperately got the feeling to write this, as i know for sure that none of the boys would’ve let that happen.

Pairing: ot13 x f! reader

Genre: light angst, protective! svt, creepy men, implying of sexual assault

Description: just as the title says

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

scoups: he went away just for a second to buy you a drink and when he turned around, there was a man all in your face, smiling in what he can only describe as unsuccessfully flirty manner. he immediately walks back to you, sliding his arm around your waist. kisses your temple as a cover to whisper in your ear and ask you “are you okay baby?”. by your shaking form he assumes that you aren’t. pulling you behind him, cheol then lets all of his emotions, all the anger and disgust, show on his face and says “leave. now.” in such an intimidating way, it makes your unwanted suitor run away with his tail between his legs. after he’s gone, cheol will give you a tight hug as a way to comfort you, and after a few minutes, will just take you two back home.

jeonghan: the moment he turned around and saw a man playing with a strand of your hair, twirling it around his finger, your face set in discomfort, he was on the move. in a few seconds he was beside you two. without any warning he grabbed the man’s hand-the very same one that was playing with your hair, and twisting it behind his back in such an uncomfortable angle it had the man screaming in pain. coldly, he asked the man “didn’t your mother ever taught you when to leave a girl alone and how it looks like when a woman is uncomfortable being around you? she’s been moving away from you the entire time you’ve been talking to her and yet you didn’t stop.”, before pushing him away so hard that the man ended up falling down. with cold eyes, jeonghan then finished the conversation with “leave. before i make you permanently banned from this place.”

joshua: unlike the two other men, he wouldn’t go to such extremes when he sees you getting hit on and being uncomfortable because if it. instead, he will quickly approach you and put himself between the two of you, his back to the man. in a soft voice he will ask you “are you alright baby? do you want us to leave?”. or at least, until the man goes to grab his shoulder and to say something stupid like “we were in a middle of a conversation”. joshua will look at him like he’s an idiot before saying “you weren’t in the middle of anything, you were hitting on a taken woman and she tried ignoring you. how delusional do you have to be to confuse that for flirting? she didn’t even say anything yet you thought you were successful in flirting with her?” would snort once before adding “a lot of delusional and pathetic men roaming this earth” before taking your hand in his and walking out of the place.

jun: this scaredy cat would definitely use his height to his advantage in these type of situations. just as he was coming back from the restroom, he saw a man waving a phone in your face, your hands making an ‘x’ as a way to reject him, but to no avail. seeing this, jun will jog a bit to get to you before pulling you behind him. looking the man deadly in the eyes (with all the courage that he can summon in himself) he will ask him “do we have a problem here?”. his cold and calculated look, along with him towering over the guy will result in the guy nervously shaking his head no and quickly leaving. after the guy is gone, you two will end up hugging each other as a way to comfort each other. and yes, you need to comfort him too because standing up to that man was so scary 😖

hoshi: at first i thought that hoshi might cause more of an embarrassing scene rather than defending you in a proper manner. but then i remembered how scary he is when he is angry (the moment that comes to mind is that live where saesangs constantly were calling his phone and he said something among the lines of “do you not have any manners?” and oh god-) and immediately changed my mind. bro was just enjoying his time, you two mingling with different people, no need to be glued to each other the entire time, you two can simply coexist in the same space sometimes. but then he will hear your voice distinctly, repeating the words “stop, i’m not interested, i have a boyfriend”. the moment he finds you in the room, almost trapped against the wall due to a man’s hand blocking your way, the hand resting on the wall beside your head. he will calmly walk towards you. the moment he’s there, he will harshly pull the man’s hand away from the wall, making him stumble a bit. looking at him, hoshi will then darkly say to the man “are you deaf or stupid to not be able to understand such a simple sentence “i have a boyfriend”? or are you just that desperate, thinking that you will successfully get her to comply to your flirting?”. getting all up in the man’s face, he will then add in almost a terrifying whisper “do not ever try to flirt with my girlfriend ever again, or i can promise you-i will end your whole life.” staying for a few seconds to let the man see in his eyes that he meant it, he will then turn towards you before intertwining your hands and leaving the function all together.

wonwoo: he just went up to order coffees for the both of you, when he turned around and saw a man in his chair, sitting across from you, trying to talk to you and touch your hand. seeing the panic and discomfort on your face, he will quickly take the tray with him before quickly moving to your table, trying hard not to spill your coffees. seeing that the man still wasn’t paying attention to him, his slimy smile directed at you, wonwoo will then just raise his foot before harshly kicking the chair that the man was sitting on, making him almost fall out of it. seeing that he finally got his attention, wonwoo will then say in a bored voice “you are in my chair. scram. i want to enjoy my date with my girlfriend.”. the moment the chair is free, he’s sitting down and grabbing your hands in his, asking if you are alright, doing a total 180 on you

woozi: just as he was pulling up the location that you two agreed for him to pick you up from, woozi will start seeing black the moment he registers the scene unfolding in front of him- your form pushed all the way on the wall of the building, shaking in fear as a man is rubbing your arm, all up in your face. the moment he snaps out of his trance, he is quickly getting out of his car, slamming the door so harshly that it catches both your and the man’s attention. without any words, he walks up to you two quickly before punching that man so hard it knocks him out in one. jihoon doesn’t really care about the possible consequences of his actions, all he knows is that he would kill for you, which he felt he was about to do to that man. the moment you see him ready to swing his leg at the man to kick him, you quickly stop him by hugging him. the moment he felt your trembling form against his back, he will quickly snap out of it, turning around and hugging you back just as tightly. the moment he hears you sobbing against his neck, he’s picking up your bag from the floor in one hand and picking you up in the other, carrying you to his car, carefully placing you in the passenger’s seat.

minghao: roaming around the house that you two were in for the afterparty, he’s trying to find you, getting slowly worried because he hasn’t seen you in the last 15 minutes. not that that was long time, but it was just that he had a bad feeling about it in his stomach. rounding up the corner on the second floor, right where the bathroom is, he finds the door of it blocked by a man who is leaning on both sides of the doorway, ultimately blocking your way. with a deep sigh you tell him “for the hundredth time, i am not interested, i don’t want to give you my number because i. have. a. boyfriend.”. he then responds to you “c’mon, he doesn’t have to know”. feeling like he has heard enough, minghao speaks “little too late for that, as the boyfriend in question is right here”. both of you turn towards him, the man’s eyes looking at him nastily. feeling no fucks to give, he takes one of the man’s arms off the doorway and pushes him away before taking your hand in his and pulling you out of the bathroom and behind him. with cold eyes he tells him “maybe next time find a girl who is taken already. and maybe also a girl who is naive enough to be willingly talking to you, because that is not my girl here, she doesn’t like waisting her braincells on assholes like you.” before leading you back downstairs.

mingyu: as the night went on, you naturally drifted apart for a bit. he wanted to talk to some friends of his while you wanted to talk to some other people, resulting in you standing in the different corners of the room. just as you crossed his mind, he hears a loud voice yelling distinctly “i said leave me alone! i don’t want to do anything with you!”. his heart sinks the moment he realises that it’s your voice. sharply turning around he sees your arm being gripped by another man, so tightly he can see on your face that it’s hurting you. wasting no time, he lets all over his anger take over him. speed walking towards you, he yells a loud ‘hey!” before grabbing the man’s arm and pulling him away from you harshly. not realising his strength, he pulls a man so harshly, that he ends up falling over a small table and into the wall. loud gasps erupt in the room, but that doesn’t stop him. crouching down beside the man, he takes his collar in his hand before harshly speaking through his teeth “she said to leave her alone. are you that stupid to understand that or too ignorant to not do as she says?”. not being able to stop, he then grabs the man’s jaw harshly “do that again to her and i will break every bone in your body”. in the end coups and three other members will have to pull him away from the man before he stops and calms down for a bit. seeing your shaking form, he will wrap his jacket around your shoulders before taking you home, apologising profusely for losing his control.

dk: walking into a bar where you two agreed to meet for a little night out, dk’s eyes immediately went to search for you in the crowd of bodies. finally, his smile spread the moment his eyes landed on you, sitting at the bar in your pretty dress. the same smile was wiped off his face the moment he saw a man on your left, trying to get your attention by reaching for your hair. feeling something burning inside of him, he quickly started approaching you, and when he was in your earshot, he loudly exclaimed “baby! i’m here!” before engulfing you in a hug before kissing you passionately, with way too much tongue than is appropriate for a public display. ignoring your surprised yelp, he opened his eyes and purposely look the man behind you directly in his eyes, smirking a bit when he was the man fuming in anger. afterwards, when the man has already long been gone, you will tease him for his actions and he will blush while whining to you “babee stoooop”

seungkwan: oh this little firecracker. he was meeting you for a much needed session of badminton, so excited to finally be able to do it together with you after a long time. as he was walking out of the locker room and into the gym, the smile that was decorating his beautiful face disappeared the moment he saw somebody trying to talk to you, your unsure facial expression, and you taking unsure steps away from the man. with an awkward smile, he heard you say “ah, i’m actually waiting on my-“ before the man rudely cut you off “let’s just play together, why are you being so difficult? i mean seriously why are all women such b*tches nowadays-“ and that did it for seungkwan. all of a sudden, he yells “ya!” before throwing his racket with such a precision it misses the man’s face by a few inches, like he intended it to. shocked, you both turned towards him just to see him quickly walking to you. pushing the man away by his shoulders, seungkwan points at him with his finger “say that shit to my girlfriend again and i swear on everything that is holy, i will push that same racket that just barely missed you so far ip your ass-“. eventually, you will have to call staff to throw that man out because holding seungkwan back seems to be quite pointless.

vernon: actually the only normal one in these types of situations and who won’t actually incriminate himself just because he doesn’t know how to control his emotions and actions. just as he was coming back with the popcorn and your drinks, all prepared for you two to watch that new movie that you wanted to, he sees you smiling awkwardly at the man in front of you, shaking your head ‘no’. awkwardly standing in front of you two, vernon says “babe? are you ready? i’ve got everything for us, let’s go and find our seats.” seeing how thankful you look for the interruption, you happily hurry up to his side, wrapping your arms around his biceps. awkwardly you say to the man “this is my boyfriend that i was talking about, now if you will excuse us”. before turning away from him. but if the man dares to utter something like “stupid b*tch under his breath, you bet your ass vernon will stop in his place before turning to the man “ya. if you call her that one more time, i will have you swallowing all of your teeth. understood?” before continuing his route. just because he doesn’t overreact doesn’t mean be doesn’t threaten or put men in their place who dare speak of you like that. :)

dino: dino felt like picking you up from your work on that day, simply to be a good boyfriend and to see you as soon as possible. knowing both the way around the building you work at and people that you work with, he easily accessed the floor that you were on. rounding up the corner the scene in front of him has him gripping the umbrella in his hand and holding the puke down. leaning as far as possible in your chair, your face was as white as a paper due to nervousness. towering over you was your male colleague, leaning on your desk and leaning in your face. putting two and two together, he quickly approached your desk, exclaiming “babe!” loudly for you both to hear. when he approaches you, he quickly bends down to wrap his arms around your neck from behind nuzzling in your neck as a way to hide his words. “are you okay?” will be whispered against you ear, and upon your slight nod, he will stand up normally again, his hands reassuringly resting on your shoulders. smiling in a really fake manner, he will say to the man “hope you don’t mind but i’ve come to pick up my girlfriend today, we have a very busy night in front of us.” the insinuation of what the ‘very busy night’ is supposed to mean is as clear as ever, making the man look at chan with eyes full of jealousy. quickly helping you pack your things, he will throw a nasty smirk and a wave to the man over your shoulders as you are walking away.

[pinkgy]

hii! if you’re taking requests may i request the kings reaction (+ bael & bimet if its okay) reaction to mc in her sleep pulling them into her grasp and face planting them in her boobs (i think it would be funny like they were just checking on mc and get pulled in😭)

Hi ! Thank you so much for requesting !!

Ahh I love this scenario! And the character choice is 🤌🤌🤌

I had no idea if this request was meant to be smut, fluff, angst, or crack, so I mixed all of them, I hope it's okay, and soooo sorry for the delay :(

"𝙄 𝘾𝙊𝙐𝙇𝘿 𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙔 𝙃𝙀𝙍𝙀 𝙁𝙊𝙍𝙀𝙑𝙀𝙍"

CW: Reader has boobs but I tried my best to not specify the size, Belphegor's is a bit shorter because let's be real he would fall asleep the moment he touches a bed, Bael's is also shorter because my draft of him got deleted 4 times, somnophilia and by defect Dubcon in Beelzebub's, Satan's got emotional somehow, the only one who actually got a bit smutty was Beel's, the rest (some of them) are just suggestive, kinda OOC Leviathan (?) it's hard to write fluff for someone as dense as him.

𝙎𝘼𝙏𝘼𝙉

Satan loved sleeping with you. Both hands weren't enough to count the reasons why. The main one had to be that when he was lying in your arms (or you were lying on his, depending on his mood), he felt like nothing could go wrong. He felt all his worries disappear, and just that small moment between him and you was simply perfect.

One day, while walking out of a meeting, he felt as if he hadn't seen you for a while, so he made his way to your room. Once there, he found you peacefully sleeping—how cute!

BUT, what if you weren't sleeping? What if you passed out? Maybe an angel attacked you and set up your body so it would seem like you were just asleep, or what if Gabriel kidnapped you and set up a lookalike of you or a doll that looks like you to confuse those who walked into your room.

Overthinking took over Satan so he rushed to your bed to check on you, and once he got in your bed and got close to you he suddenly felt your arms wrapping around his neck and pushing his face.

He just remained there, dumbfounded, still processing what just happened, sure he knew you were quite naughty, but so naughty to a point where your sleeping self yearned for him? That was a surprise, a very satisfactory surprise.

Satan lay down with you and hugged you tightly without caring much if he woke you up or not if you had put him in such a suggestive situation it was because you wanted “Something more” But once he felt both your bodies cuddling, your soft hands tangled in his hair, your arms hugging his face endearingly and the comfortable warmth surrounding his face coming from your soft chest, Satan wanted to stay here forever, fuck the angels and fuck the war, this was all he needed in his life.

He felt Gabriel’s brand on your chest pressing against his forehead, it was mocking him, reminding him that he could take you away from him at any moment if that were to happen, Satan had no idea how could he move on, that’s why he treasured moments like this so much, he’s confident about his power and his abilities at protecting you, but one part of him was genuinely scared about the future.

He just wishes time froze and this moment could last forever.

𝙈𝘼𝙈𝙈𝙊𝙉

Satan arranged a super urgent meeting between the two kings that he described as a “Life or death type of urgency”, but that was the secondary reason he went to Gehenna that day, the main one was to visit you, and since the king of that land refused to let anyone kidnap you, Mammon had to settle for sporadic visits until he had a defined plan to steal you away from Satan.

Once his meeting was over, he went straight to your room, at first he knocked, but once he received no response he just entered, once inside he saw your little body wrapped in the sheets, he began to walk slowly trying to make as little noise as possible so as not to wake you up, and as soon as he was close to you he brought his face closer to yours to observe you more closely, Mammon thought you couldn't look any cuter until he saw you right now.

He may have let his guard down a little too much, because suddenly one of your hands grabbed his horn and the other grabbed his head, and somehow, you planted his head between your breasts.

He stands proud as an ass guy, but who is he to complain, and if it’s your will to keep him in your arms while you sleep, or more specifically, in your chest, then he must obey his master, so as carefully as possible, he places his heavy body beside yours and places his hands directly on his target, your ass.

He would’ve loved to have let his hands explore your body more, in fact, if he wanted to, he would have done it, but Mammon does not dare to break into his master’s dream, your life in hell is stressful enough, that you deserve to rest, and he’s honored that you’re allowing him to be with you at this time, and as long as he’s here with you, no angel would success in trying to attack you.

Mammon hopes that neither of you wakes up to Satan shouting and attempting to murder him when he sees the scene of both of you sleeping together, however, any punch or kick that he may receive will be worth it as long as he continues to enjoy this moment between the two of you.

𝙇𝙀𝙑𝙄𝘼𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙉

He's not a huge fan of sleeping with you, or anyone, but as long as you weren't sharing a bed with somebody else, it was fine for him.

It was a peaceful noon at Hades, way too peaceful, unusually peaceful if he had to admit, something must be wrong, where are you by the way? Where were his nobles?

Casually, Leviathan happened to pass in front of your room, that moment, he stood there and he felt uneasy, it was too much of a coincidence that neither you nor his nobles were around, he opened your door with a bang and entered your room, he started looking desperately, he searched in every corner, opened every cabinet and even checked if Foras turned invisible and hid somewhere.

Then he noticed your sleeping self that by miracle didn’t wake up by the bang of your door and the amount of noise he made while rummaging around your room, that’s when he remembered, he hadn’t checked your bed to see if there was anyone’s unpleasant presence.

That's when it happened, when Leviathan got close to you to lift the bedsheets off your body, in an instant and taking him off guard, you grabbed his head with your arms and planted his face in your chest.

In the beginning Leviathan got mad, how you dare treat him with such rudeness, what’s wrong with you? But then he smelled you, no disgusting smell of any other nasty devil was on you aside from his, he sighed in relief, well, now that his job is done he must go, he had lots of things to do anyways and cuddle time with you wasn’t one of them.

Without caring much if you woke up or not he tried to pull away from you, tried, for a human you had a pretty strong grip he thought, and it didn’t help that your sleeping self gently kissed the top of his head as you snuggled up in his hair, that little act caused things in him, maybe Leviathan was completely unaccustomed to receiving this kind of gestures, so he felt quite weird, and if he was honest, maybe even a little bit good.

Hesitantly, Leviathan got comfortable in your bed and awkwardly held your body between his arms, if he stayed with you right now none of his nobles would dare to enter your room, yeah, that was the reason why he was in your room right now, with both your bodies curled in the bed, his face buried in the pillowy surface of your chest and your hearts beating in unison.

How long has it been since he’s been so at ease in his life? Probably never, and for the first time in god knows how many years, he fell asleep out of the comfort of his coffin, but in a newfound comfort, you.

𝘽𝙀𝙀𝙇𝙕𝙀𝘽𝙐𝘽

Beelzebub has been away for some weeks now, and the first thing he wanted to do was to spend time with you, in fact, he only returned because of that, but to his surprise, when he broke into your room in Gehenna from the window, you were passed out in your bed, how cute.

He not so carefully sat at the side of the bed you were facing and stared at you for minutes, you really looked cute when you were asleep, he swears he just wanted to get a little sniff of your natural scent, but with a tight grip around his neck that for a second caught him off-guard you pulled him to the bed with you, or more specifically, to his favorite place on hell right after between your legs, your chest.

Could he easily get away from your embrace? Yes. Was he going to try? Nah.

Beelzebub would die a happy man suffocated in your chest, and also, this was a great way to get away from Bael, he wasn’t going to enter your room without your permission, right? And also, a little nap with you doesn’t sound bad, who knows what can happen once you wake up, or when you're still in your sleep.

And that's how he ended up getting comfortable beside you, with his head still face planted between your boobs, his legs tangled with yours and a firm thigh pressing against your crotch.

Bold of you to assume Beelzebub isn’t going to try to get his hands on you, in those weeks without you he couldn’t get you out of his head, so as soon as he gets settled in your bed, he takes a deep sniff of your delicious skin and slips his hands under your shorts and places them on your butt gripping it roughly and almost waking you up, almost.

Because once he saw that you were still asleep, he left his hands to wander under your shorts, and before you could do something about it you woke up to Beelzebub with two fingers buried deep inside you and your whole chest covered in hickeys and bite marks, and most importantly, Beel’s mouth vigorously sucking on your sore nipples.

A long night awaits you because he’s not getting out of your bed until he gets a taste of you, or until Satan realizes that he broke in.

𝙇𝙐𝘾𝙄𝙁𝙀𝙍

He would rather die than admit it, but Lucifer had a habit of watching you sleep. He would wait for you to fall asleep every night to sneak into your room just to observe you, sometimes he would bring a chair closer to your bed to be more comfortable, and other times he would cover you more with the sheets when he noticed you’re cold, or he would carefully remove some strands of hair from your face, and in some occasions when you’re in a particularly deep sleep, he would sit on the side of your bed to feel you closer to him, situation in which he was in right now.

You were like a beautiful artwork to him, he could gaze at your human self for hours in pure admiration, it didn’t matter if you were in Paradise Lost or in another kingdom of hell, when he had time, he would indulge in this embarrassing habit of him.

You were in such a deep sleep that he felt that if tried to give you a small kiss you wouldn’t wake up at all, but the moment his face approached yours, an unexpected strength that for a second he doubted was yours grabbed his head tightly and smashed it against your warm chest.

Never in his millions of years of age had he been so caught off guard as he is now.

What was he even supposed to do now? Were you asleep? Did you discover him? Lucifer was blank, after a few seconds he realized that your impulsive action was possibly due to an instinct, surely even in your dreams you can recognize him and that’s why you brought him closer to you, which in short means that you want him close to you.

Once his thoughts were organized, careful not to hurt you with his pointed horn, Lucifer lay down on your bed as close to you as possible, in this position he could feel your heart beating more closely, and the fluffy surface of your chest cushioned his face in a comfortable position.

He had to restrain himself from biting your chest or trying to put his hands on your private areas, eventually when he managed to fall asleep he put those thoughts aside, he preferred to be with you in a more personal moment right now, when you both woke up he would have plenty of time to enjoy you in every possible way.

Extra: Gamigin found you two when he was looking for Lucifer, he took a photo for future blackmail material.

𝘽𝙀𝙇𝙋𝙃𝙀𝙂𝙊𝙍

Well, since he's already here, he might as well just sleep with you, what a hassle would it be to go back to his room.

He loves it when things go in his favor, he came to do his great deed of the day by checking on you since it had been a while since he saw you for the last time, and whoops, he's now sleeping with you, what a casualty.

To his surprise, your sleeping self took the initiative and pulled him to the bed first, to the bed, and to somewhere else too, most specifically the best pillow he could ever wish for, your chest.

Belphegor said to himself that he must have been an amazing devil in his past life, because of how wonderful what was happening to him today.

He hates wasting time, so as soon as you planted his face in your boobs, he snuggled there and got comfortable in your bed hugging your body tightly against his.

He would have loved to savor this moment, but his sleepiness won the battle against his horniness, and he passed out, good luck trying to get out of his embrace.

𝘽𝘼𝙀𝙇

He swears he was just trying to cover your sleeping self with a blanket, you pulling him to the bed with you was most definitely not on his plans, not that he complained.

He tried to softly push himself away from you, not because he didn’t like the current scenario of you tightly hugging him, but because Bael thought that even tho you were the one that put him in this situation, you were asleep and weren’t conscious of your actions.

It was a fool's intent, because the moment Bael tried to take your arms and softly put them away from him, you hugged him from the back of his head and squished his face between your beasts.

He was fucked

He was so fucked

Bael had two options, push himself away from you and wake you up, or stay with you in your embrace, in the soft pillowy surface of your chest, surrounded by the aroma of your delicious smell, with your soft arms wrapped around him.

He concluded that he deserved a little rest, and what better chance than this one, cuddled up with you, snuggled up in your chest, what a great life he has, he just wishes that Beelzebub doesn't find him anytime soon.

𝘽𝙄𝙈𝙀𝙏

It was an easy task, you had a headache so Mammon insisted that you should take a nap, he was just supposed to check on you by orders of his king, the current situation he was in was far from the original plan, and turned his quick task into the worst internal debate he’s ever had.

Bimet couldn't even remember how he ended up with his face buried in your chest, for a second he even doubted if you were human because of how fast everything happened.

Should he separate himself from you? You are his king’s property so he would probably feel jealous about this, wait, didn’t Mammon also own him? Then there shouldn’t be a problem, right?

You felt extremely warm, but it was a comforting warmth and not a fever type of warmth, maybe this wasn’t so bad, and either way, you were the one who faceplanted his face between your boobs, so in case anyone complained he had an excuse, Bimet could say that you suddenly developed super strength one day and he couldn't escape from your grip, yeah, that was an amazing excuse, what a genius he is.

Now that his mental debate is over, he could enjoy this little (And convenient) moment with you, so he got comfortable and held your body in his arms.

Just thinking about how the amount of money other devis and even the kings would pay just to be in his place got Bimet all excited, but to their disappointment, he had you now, or you had him.

Bimet underestimated how comfortable he was because in a matter of minutes, he had fallen completely asleep in your arms.

Extra: Mammon did notice Bimet’s absence, and when he went to your room to check if he was here he saw both of you sleeping in each other's arms, Mammon just smiled and took a photo of you.

[etheries1015]

(In Lilias dream) General Lilia X reader : Hidden pregnancy

General warnings: The reader mentioned being pregnant, but no pronouns are used. Situationship described, mention of heat...honestly, just a shitty scenario I half-baked when day-dreaming at work the other day. really self-indulgent and not my best work, but ima share it anyway. Cause'. I like the idea, even if I can't execute it very well. HAHAHA

"You" general Lilia pointed during the dream, startling you as you ate peacefully at the food you 'humans' had so kindly put together for the fae army. You looked up curiously and tilted your head, heart pounding in your chest at the sight of the beautiful man you had known to be important to you.

"You're pregnant. With a fae child, nonetheless." He said bluntly. The suddenness of his comment left your heart drop into the pit of your stomach, and you were immediately alarmed. With a loss of appetite and eyes wavering, you threw a panicked glance at Sebek and Silver; both who were staring at you with wide eyes and spoons halfway out their mouths.

You hadn't a clue that fae were able to tell such things. Questions swirled around your mind all at once: Did Lilia in reality realize this? or perhaps his magic and senses dwindled so much he hadn't taken much notice? What are you to say in response? However, there were more pressing issues to think of at the moment. And that was the way the two boys rushed to your side in shock, Silver grabbing your hands and looking you in the eyes earnestly.

"You...you're what..?" The silver-haired boy peered into your eyes with concern, "You're...pregnant? Is it...is it his?" You pursed your lips and held back tears that threatened to pour out of your melancholy orbs and your hands trembled with fear. You gave a nod in response. You could feel the gaze and judgment of the fae surrounding you, including Sebek, who knew well enough to hold his tongue at this moment where you seemed to be at the edge of a breakdown. Bauer, his grandfather, on the other hand, scoffed in almost disbelief at the mere notion a fae would copulate with a human. Such were the times in the dream that Lilia was having, however, you felt no true judgment wafting off of the long-haired general.

"Yeah. It's his. But...he wanted to leave and I ...need to go home. I can't.. I mean, I want to stay, with him, but I know that he is losing his magic and he wants to go to a faraway land, and I...I don't want to hold him back from doing what he wants. Besides, he believes he's too old to start parenting all over again, I just-"

You started going off on a nervous tangent, vomiting every word and excuse that came to your mind. Bauer made a snide and astonished comment about the situation, Sebek following suit not without a piercing glare from Lilia and a sneer of dissatisfaction. Uncertain how to proceed, Lilia moved past Silver and placed an uncertain and awkward hand on top of your head in an attempt to console you.

"Fae are eternally loyal to one mate. If your fae lover is noble and virtuous, he will not abandon you. Speak to him, perhaps there's a misunderstanding." You almost winced at the word "lover," for could you really classify your relationship with him as such? Of course, there were times of flirtiness, but you two felt comfortable in each other's presence (clearly). Yet...Lilia Vanrouge is a very mysterious man who worked in ways that will forever be unfathomable to you. He kept his relationships at arm's length, and you were not far behind. You just so happen to be there at the time of his heat, the instincts of two bodies craving affection indulging in primitive actions. So...what he felt about your...relationship...was beyond you.

General Lilia averted his rosey gaze from your own trembling orbs, your lips pursed and embarrassingly staring at the ground unable to make eye contact with the others.

He would have insisted you stay behind in your state, however felt compelled to bring you with him under the guise that he would better be able to keep a watchful eye on you in case this was some sort of ploy to induce some sort of surprise attack. However, it was obvious to any onlooker the way he tended to your needs, protect you from harms way, and at random inquired of your state. The rest of the army that followed him was in awe seeing their general practically 'dote' (for lack thereof better terms) on this random human who was impregnated, to their knowledge, by some other fae.

You wanted to hold on to the belief that he subconsciously knew the truth, even in this dream world, the Lilia you had come to love was attentively paying attention to your fragile state at all times.

And...somehow you knew that it would be alright.

[j2hoes]

A Twisted Romantic Fairytale (Wally Clark x Reader

Word Count: 3K

A tragic tale of two star-crossed lovers.

Warnings: Death

The homecoming game of 1983 was a tragic tale of two star crossed lovers perishing beside one another. It’s a story for the history books and one Split River High would remember in the years going forward. One that students remember as a devastating if not twisted romantic fairytale. Two young lovers bound together for eternity.

Homecoming Game - 1983.

Excitement runs rampant through the air as everybody floods into the stadium, eager chattering of students combined with the cheerful melodies of the marching band fill me with joy. It’s not as if I haven’t been here before, I’m no stranger to the blinding lights of Split River football stadium. In fact I’ve been cheering on the sidelines at every football game for the past four years or so, but tonight is different. I’m unsure of whether the electricity I can feel within the air has always been there and I have simply never noticed, or if it has something to do with the fact that this is my last homecoming game of my high school career. It’s the one night that counts. After all, it’s hard to miss the countless recruiters already situated within the stands.

“There you are! God, I’ve been looking all over for you!”

Upon hearing the familiar voice, I can’t help but smile. Turning my attention away from the water fountain where I had previously been filling my water bottle, to see the dark haired jock that makes my heart race.

Wally Clark. Where do I even begin to describe this boy? 

I first met Wally on the second day of senior year. My family had just moved to Split River from Amber, Nevada, following my father’s transfer within the police department. Having accepted a promotion, despite the fact it meant we had to uproot our entire lives and move almost two thousand miles away.

It’s fair to say that I had been a complete mess, struggling to find my feet in a town that was the complete opposite to everything I had been used to. Not to mention the constant arguing between my parents caused by the stress of the move. Feeling so overwhelmed by my entire life changing so quickly, I couldn’t bring myself to attend first period and instead found myself tucked away in the bleachers, smoking a cigarette with shaky hands.

It was at that moment that Wally had found me, with a warm smile on his face, he comforted me. Welcomed me to the strange new town of Split River. Offered to sit with me in the cafeteria at lunch despite being a total stranger. However, something about the way things took place felt incredibly natural. As though this was the way things were meant to be.

Wally and I became inseparable from that moment forward, he encouraged me to join the cheerleading team. Insisting that it was only because he knew it was a passion of mine and not because it meant I would be forced to go to the football games that he just so happened to play. And how could I say no to that charming grin?

Throughout the years, we both learnt a lot about one another. He listened and supported me as I discussed my turbulent homelife, detailing how my parents seemed to be getting closer and closer to divorce by the day and how in turn I became practically invisible to them. I was there for him following every argument he had with his mother, reminding him that his sole purpose in life was not just football. Ensuring he knew that he had other talents and qualities that were just as good if not better than his football skills.

We weren’t best friends, we were each other’s rock through thick and thin. So when he kissed me on the field, following yet another win for the team, I felt like I was floating on air. Unearthing all of the feelings I harbored for the jock, even if I had spent all that time trying to bury them.

Wally’s heart is so pure and full of love. Being on the receiving end of that love to the fullest extent is the greatest joy I will ever be able to experience. To have someone be such a bright light in your life is truly a blessing.

So if I had to describe Wally Clark? I’d say he was an angel brought down from heaven just for me.

“Excited for the big game my love?” Wally asks as he finally reaches me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and placing a soft kiss on my temple.

“More nervous than excited. Kristine’s had us practicing a new move and with all the recruiters, I’m just scared I’m going to let the nerves get to me and mess up.” I admit, reaching my own hand up to hold his that remains over my shoulder as we begin to stroll through the crowds towards the locker rooms.

“You’re a superstar!” Wally exclaims, to which I’m unable to contain my laughter. “I mean it! You’re gonna smash it, honestly. I’ve never seen someone make cheerleading look as mesmerizing as you do. It’s borderline hypnotic, I’m telling you.”

“Sure, yeah, whatever you say.” I reply, tone sarcastic, yet his words of encouragement do make me feel ten times better. “Anyway, what about my favorite player? Are you feeling okay?”

I don’t miss the pained look that flashes briefly crosses his face before returning to his usual winning beam. I’m sure he’s just ready to get the game over with, wanting to return to some sense of normality and let loose at the dance. No longer having to deal with the overwhelming amount of pressure that his mom places on him to be the best.

“I guess I’m a little worried. My knee has been playing up for the past few days and coach said I needed to rest it, which is what I’ve been trying to do. I don’t know, I just don’t want to let anyone down, especially not my mom. Or you.”

As Wally finishes speaking we reach the doors of the locker room and I remove myself from his embrace to stand in front of him. Taking his hands gently in mine as I gaze up at the sweet boy. Noticing the slight gleam of worry and shame hidden deep within his coffee brown eyes.

“Whatever happens out there, you won’t be letting anyone down, I promise.” My voice is soft as I speak to him, wanting him to truly understand how little his performance matters. “Your mom may be disappointed but she’ll get over it. As long as you’re happy, healthy and alive, that’s the most important thing. Just don’t push yourself too hard, I know how important it is to you that you make your mom proud but she’ll be proud of you no matter what. I mean, how could she not be? You’re amazing Wally Clark.”

The footballer smiles, wrapping his arms around me before pulling me into his body tightly. Resting my head against his chest, I close my eyes for a moment, allowing myself to relax in his embrace and breathing in deeply to take in the deep oaky scent that is Wally. He rests his head atop of mine and I can feel him squeeze me gently, hands scrunching up the fabric of my t-shirt as he does so.

“Wally Clark, better get yourself in that locker room right now! It’s almost showtime!” I hear the coach yell and my boyfriend sighs, slowly releasing me from his tight hold.

“Now go show everybody just how amazing you are.” I whisper, lovingly gazing up at him.

He nods as though in confirmation with my previous statement, before taking my face in his hands and slowly leaning down to interlock his lips with mine. Delicately and with the remaining hint of nerves racing through his body, his lips move gently with mine. My cheeks feel burning hot compared to the brisk coldness of his hands, caused by the icy fall winds, though I don’t seem to mind. Embracing the sweetness of Wally’s mouth and the tenderness of every move he makes.

It’s with much reluctance that we pull away from one another, however, after catching a glimpse of the coach’s disapproving look, I know the moment is over. Sending the jock to get himself ready with a swift peck to the cheek, him offering me a cheeky wink in return as we both slink off to our respective locker rooms.

The next time I see Wally is when the team makes their grand entrance onto the field. A big cheesy grin rests on my face as I hear the crowds' screams of support, waving flags and homemade banners to cheer on the team. With a few cheers of my own, a couple of the girls and I begin to hype up the crowd even more, jumping wildly and encouraging their yells.

As I shoot a quick glance over to the field, I’m able to spot my boyfriend easily, even with his helmet on. Smiling brightly at me even as he runs towards his team to discuss their play. My heart flutters knowing that he still makes an effort to look for me even as the game is about to begin.

“Alright girls, you know what to do!” Kristina shouts, alerting us to take up our positions and prepare for the first routine of the night.

Noticing the game is about to commence, I feel myself worrying less about messing up the performance, focusing solely on Wally and his uplifting words from moments earlier. Sharing gleeful smiles with my fellow cheerleaders, I can’t help but feel a sense of excitement as the music roars through the stadium.

The next few minutes pass by in a blur, with the Split River football team taking an early victory and our routine flowing perfectly without a single fault or mistake. It’s almost too good to be true.

With our final move only seconds away, I feel the nerves return once more as I boost myself into the hands of the other girls. Their hands wrapped around my ankles and calves to ensure my safety and support whilst in the air. It’s only when I’m hoisted into the air that my stomach twists. Something doesn’t feel right but I’m unable to do anything. Everything happens in slow motion and as I catch sight of the ground looming towards me, I’m hit instantly by the fact that I’m not going to make my mark. I’m not going to land firmly in the hands of the girls beneath me.

I suppose the one good thing about all of this is that I only have a split second to panic before my body plummets to the hard asphalt below my feet. The thump my body makes as it slams against the ground is enough to make anybody squeal.

Cheerleaders scream. Music cuts off.

Then I simply feel nothing.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wally’s the first to notice the chaos unfolding at the side of the field. Distracted by whatever seems to be taking place, he doesn’t notice the opposing team's player bolting towards him. He lands with a grunt, knee buckling and sending a sharp shooting pain through the length of his leg.

As he rises to his feet, he hears the whistle blowing repeatedly, noticing the chaos begin to grow larger. With furrowed brows he finds himself jogging towards the crowd, even if it does cause him a significant amount of pain that he tries desperately to hide.

Pushing through the screaming group of footballers and cheerleaders, it’s at that moment that he sees her. Lay unmoving against the concrete, his heart stops momentarily. Feeling sick to his stomach at the sight of his beautiful girl lifeless, body contorted in ways he didn’t know physically possible. 

Wally drops to his knees, students stepping away from him as he does so. Not knowing how to comfort the poor boy in this time of need. The physical pain he is feeling in his leg is nothing compared to the emotional turmoil he is going through right now. Dragging her body on to his knees and cradling her delicately, in fear of breaking her anymore.

With clouded vision, he stares down at his love, body releasing wails and sobs he had never once made in his life. Blood stains his hands, his jersey, his trousers and yet he doesn’t care. Overwhelmed by his grief, watching the color drain from her skin. He doesn’t think anything could be more painful, nothing in his life could compare to the trauma of his girlfriend sprawled out in his arms.

Wally struggles with the ambulance crew as they begin to remove her body, his coach restraining him as they place her in the back of an ambulance. The jock barely acknowledges his coach telling him that he’s been benched as he watches with heartbreak as the ambulance drives away and in his distress all he can do is cry on the sidelines.

With his mom standing behind him, badgering him about winning a scholarship and needing him in the game, Wally feels nothing but rage. All his life, he’d done right by his mom, wanting her to be proud of him, wanting her to acknowledge his successes but right now, he wanted nothing more than to tell her to close her mouth.

Instead, he finds himself marching over to the coach, begging to be put back into the game, arguing that he needs something to take his mind off what he just witnessed and that he is in fact in the correct headspace to win. And somehow, his efforts pay off much to his surprise. Back in the game, Wally has more strength than ever. Fuelled by his rage and his grief.

Whilst he finds it distasteful and disrespectful that the game continues despite his sweet girl losing her life only moments before, he plays with the knowledge that she’d want him to win. She would want him to succeed and so he tries. He tries for her because if not for her, then he has no other reason to keep going. She was the one good thing in his life that kept him from going off the deep and without her, he doesn’t know how he will continue. So for now, he simply focuses on the game.

The sharp pain in his knee grows stronger and with every passing minute he struggles more and more. Trying desperately to ignore it, he claims the ball, running at full speed towards the touchline and yet as he runs directly towards an opposing player, he makes no effort to slow down. Not thinking about the potential consequences of his actions.

He hits the ground with a devastating blow. World shrouded in darkness almost immediately. However, he feels more at peace than he ever has.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I watch with bated breath as Wally tumbles aggressively to the floor, the crack ripples throughout the stadium and I can’t help but gasp. Throwing my hands across my mouth as I fixate on the footballers rushing to his aid. My mind races at one million thoughts per minute, why did he go back out onto the field? Why didn’t he move out of the way? How could he be so reckless?

I’m so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I almost miss the tall jock standing watching over his own body as people hopelessly attempt to resuscitate his cold body. Before I can even react, I’m slowly walking towards him, even with his back towards me I can tell he’s in pain. Hands in his hair, tugging slightly as he comes to the realization of what has happened.

My hands are shaking the closer I get, breath caught in my throat as I swallow the lump in my throat. I’m not entirely sure why I’m scared, perhaps simply afraid of what this means for us now?

“Wally.” My voice is small, timid. Hands clasped together over my chest as I anxiously await his reaction.

As though he doesn’t believe it, Wally’s body goes stiff. When he finally faces me, his mouth falls open in shock, eyes holding the same softness that they did in life and I smile hesitantly. He’s the first to break the tension, scooping me up in his arms and holding me tighter than he ever has before.

“I’m sorry Wally, I’m so sorry, I promise I didn’t mean for this to happen.” My voice breaks as I speak, tears staining my cheeks. “I should’ve tried harder and then this would never have happened. You’d still be alive. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Darling it’s okay. We’re together now, yeah?” Wally states, placing his arms on my shoulders as he fully takes me in, holding me at arm’s length as if he’s checking I’m okay. Not that it really matters now.

“What were you thinking? Going back out was so stupid and irresponsible and reck-”

“I didn’t want to let you down.” Wally whispers, eyes falling to his feet in shame. “I wanted to make it all worth it, I wanted you to be proud of me because I knew you’d be looking down on me.”

“Wally, I-”

“I don’t think I could live without you sweetheart. I don’t think I’d want to.” He admits, bringing one hand to my face, thumb stroking my cheek softly. “Seeing you there, all limp and lifeless, I didn’t just lose you. I lost something within myself too.”

“I’m so sorry.” I sob, allowing myself to release all the emotions built up inside of me.

“I still thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world.” Wally confesses, smiling adoringly at me. “I still do.”

A quiet giggle escapes my mouth, pulling the tall boy towards me and pressing my lips roughly to his. Wanting, no, needing to feel him against me. To feel the way his mouth dances with mine and the way his hands tenderly caress my waist. I just need him.

“So where do we go from here?” The jock questions, our foreheads restings against one another as we catch our breath

“I don’t know, but as long as you’re with me, I don’t really care.”

[blood-smiles]

Smut of sub! Yandere doll? Like marking him, dom him, since he is a doll with unlimited stamina, he is just insatiable. Experienced it once and he keep trying to initiate. Maybe some demonic love potion or etc (even tho we already love him) maybe something like that? Thank you for the food 💘

YEP YEP YOU ARE A GENIUS ANON!! Thank you for sending an Ask!! <3

🌶️ under the cut!

Turns out Demons have heat cycles, and you had no idea that the doll that was in your possession was just that, a demon.

Angelo had been insufferable as of lately, he had been extra loving and just overly clingy, you have no clue what to do about his situation, was he comfortable with you helping him?

yesterday he set your nintendo on fire because he got jealous that the console was taking way too much of your time and attention,

You were beyond done with the little shit, and you were going to make him pay you back every little bit of annoyance he caused.

that led to now, the doll was beneath you, his arms around your neck as you bit down on the soft skin of his clavicle, your teeth digging in so deep into him that you could feel his skin bunching up under your teeth,

“HAAh!- yesyesyesyes!” The male drawled out in a high pitched voice, he wasn’t even trying to hide that he liked it, what a whore..

Your hands were holding onto his hips, fingers digging into the soft skin covering over his hip bones, marking his skin with blotches of red and purple,

His hips stuttered with each bite you planted, his thighs rubbing together with every stroke of your tongue against his once unmarked skin,

this was what he wanted. He needed it just this time! Liar.

Having sex with you just felt so ethereal, so passionate and loving, this feeling he felt wasn’t lust, but instead infatuation.. Devotion— There just weren’t enough words to describe what he felt for you,

He didn’t do this out of only lust— That sounded unfitting of what he actually felt, but he was making love with you.. He loved how that rolled off his tongue..

His head lolled back, baring more of his neck to you, basically begging you to bite him there too,

drool seeped out of the doll’s mouth, his eyes rolling back into his head whenever your strap/cock rammed into his prostate,

You moved your hold from his hips to his thighs, propping up his long limbs on your shoulders,

Angelo mewled at the new closeness of skin, relishing in the warmth of your own skin, your cock was now pressed up against his G-spot,

with each thrust pushing deeper into him, you could start to see a belly bulge from the animalistic pace you were going at,

Angelo put his hand on the rising portion of skin, his watery eyes looking up at you lovingly, if you looked hard enough you would be able to see the hearts in his eyes,

“haa!~ so good! Feels so good..” The chestnut haired male moaned out, feeling the tip of the strap under his skin, it was like you were actually meaning to impregnate him— He wished he actually had working reproductive organs, he only wished he could get pregnant like a human would!

”hehe~ L-Love you being inside me..” Angelo giggled between whimpers, his eyes glazed over with tears, now running down his round cheeks,

You looked elsewhere, just now feeling embarrassed of what you were doing with the doll, how did things get to this caliber? You went from buying a doll from a second hand website to blowing that same doll’s back out,

you decided to bite down on his inner thigh, circling your tongue around the soft skin to create a bruise,

The doll moved his hands behind your head, gently untangling your hair, brushing back the strands sticking to your forehead, before planting a passionate kiss on your lips, his tongue lapping up your saliva like a starved man,

One of your hands stroked his dick, your nails teasingly brushing against the veiny portions,

you teased the tip with your index finger, the pad of your finger rubbing against the sensitive slit of the glossy head,

pre cum dampened your hand, the substance creating slimy webs between your fingers,

you gently squeezed his dick while keeping a steady pace, you could only imagine how good it felt being jerked off and also getting fucked, and that surely showed on the male’s porcelain features,

his hair was sprawled put on the mattress, cheeks a pretty red color, eyes were half lidded while he stared into your own eyes with desperation and nothing but pure love, it was like he wanted more, more, more.

you bit especially hard on his thigh, causing his skin to break under your teeth, the taste of iron fresh on your tongue as you squeezed his dick particularly tighter,

“Urk— O-Ough!~♡” that particular moan was even better than most porns, his fingers dug into your scalp, pushing your face closer into his bruised thighs,

“ThankyouThank youThank youThank you!!” Angelo cried out, his legs shaking in spasms, getting visibly closer to his high,

With one last high pitched moan (that would get a noise complaint) the ribbon on the present came undone,

“IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou!! Love you so so much!”

he tightly hugged your head close to his soft chest, your hand became covered with white ropes of warm semen dripping down your fingers like melted ice cream,

Angelo opened his eyes slowly, gently letting his arms loosen around your head, but not enough to completely let you go,

his chest rose and lowered, those pitch black eyes staring into yours, giving you one of his unsettling stares— Those that felt like he was looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered in his world (I’m going to have to hold your hand while saying this..)

Angelo kissed you once again, then again, again and until he was kissing your whole face, you ignored when he licked your sweaty temple,

“You did so well..” He praised, letting his legs drop from your shoulders to hug you against him more intimately,

you cleaned his flat stomach with a stray napkin, soaking up the residue of cum from his skin and your own fingers,

“Thank you.. You..You have always helped me— I know I repeat this a lot.. But You do know that I love you beyond life and death itself, right?” He smiled with a tilt of his head, holding your face in his cold hands,

You nodded, looking into his dark irises, you never looked into his eyes so closely, just now you noticed there was a slight ring of maroon around his pupil,

“You know that no matter who or what gets in my way will never separate us?” He looked at you expectantly, you nodded, “Of course you know, my dear! We both know that no matter what our love always stands tall.” He booped your nose with his finger before cuddling you into his chest again, his chin resting on top of your head,

he may just be a little crazy for your love, but he knows you secretly like it, and he just can’t let go of you anymore, his heart is far too small for the large amount of love he has for you, but even that won’t stop him from being with you.

nothing will stop him now.

A/N: pheewww!! That was a long one, my brain was having trouble thinking on what to write for him, well it was kinda fun! Enjoy! :3

[shakethediseeas]

A mother-type yn in alien stage who's very gentle with every human even if they're a weird(?) (It's luka) in a scenario where they sacrifice themself for the other (very original in alst i know) would be very !!! If they have some kind of lullaby they used to sings for everyone that they hum a tune of it in their last breath, smiling.

ALST CHARACTERS WITH A PARENT-FRIEND READER

You just always had to put others before yourself, huh?

I mean, knowing you, it shouldn't have been a surprise; they should have seen this coming.

But now seeing it happen, you, lifeless on the floor... It's hard to forget. The caring smile on your face, even though you knew you were going to die, you don't care as long as they're safe.

You were the oldest of them all so naturally without even knowing, you cared for them as if they were your family.

You'd teach Mizi, Till and Sua how to make some arts and crafts while watching over Luka who was running from Hyuna.

"Luka... careful! dont pull her!" you softly scold.

It was easy for you to grow on them because they didn't really have parental figures, you were the best moment of their lives.

It took you a while to grow on Ivan, though. After you did, he would always hold your hand, watching the rest with a blank face while you continued talking to him about anything.

Every night, when one of them struggled to fall asleep, you'd make them all gather around in a circle while you sang to them; this time, it was Till who couldn't sleep, so he got to rest his head on your lap while you caressed his head. It always worked.

You'd do anything for them, that much was obvious. When one of them was in trouble you'd go to hell and back just for their sake. You fought for Till. You almost lost your life helping Ivan with Till so they could escape...

You didn't say a word after they came back.

Hyuna would always try to impress you, give you gifts and try to act cool around you, you'd laugh and go along with it. She admires you a lot, you're so composed in any situation and you rush into danger just for the people you care about. She wants to be like that.

Luka... He was...

There is no real way to describe him. He's very smart, but he's quiet and dissociates a lot. You're always there to comfort him and sing softly to him while he hugs you mindlessly.

You had given him a small puzzle for you and him to solve, you went away for a minute and it was already completed. So , you always made more challenging ones everytime. He really appreciated that.

For till , you got him a guitar made of whatever you could, you'd tune it for him and hed smile with beaming eyes at you and always showed you the songs he'd write.

When you got older, you were forced to participate before them, and in your second tournament, you were forced to go up against...

At first, they almost downright refused to participate in the round. upset but they didn't show it. Hesitation as they sing and angry when they see you don't even bother to try.

their eyes widen when you go to sing the sweet melody you played for them, legs weak and they stutter out the lyrics.

You give them a bright smile before everything goes black.

They promised you that they would survive just for you.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Gojo x wife reader request

Gojo’s wife has always been calm and collected despite any situation. She treats both the first and second years as if they were her own.When the elders call her in for a meeting about the first and second years she gets protective and reminds them why she’s called the White Snake Sorceress.

Hehe this was so fun to write, we love a strong and badass woman who takes no shit! Let me know what you think <3

Gojo's sweet wife showing her maniac side when it comes to protecting her precious students

Pairing: Gojo x wife!reader; wife!reader x students

Word Count: 1,5k

Synopsis: Despite Gojo's wife spoke vehemently against sending the first and second years on a way too difficult mission, the elders decided against her suggestion. Her calm and collected self changes drastically when she makes them regret their decicion...

Warnings: Gojo's wife being a menance to Jujutsu High elders lol, langugage, violence, Satoru Gojo enjoying every second of it, reader being like a mum, this is just pure comforting entertainment so enjoy hehe

„Hey darling, what are you up to this morning?”, your beloved husband mutters against your ear.

Shivers of comfort run down your spine immediately, you can’t help but embrace the love of your life with your arms wide open. Words can’t express how much you love Satoru Gojo, the man who stole your heart a long time ago and is now your husband. To this day you can’t put a finger on why he chose you. You, a calm and collected woman. You, who always keeps a cool head in every situation. You, who many people like Nanami describe as the complete opposite of him. But somehow you make it work. And god, how good it feels to wake up in his arms and greet him at Jujutsu High all over again.

“Oh, I was actually looking for my students. I haven’t seen any of them this morning, even though Maki usually goes for a run around this time”, you reply, face scrunched up in confusion.

You always cared for your students as if they were your own kids and Satoru can’t help but love you even more for it. The way you seem to know every minor detail about them, how you treat every single one with so much care while still teaching them hand to hand combat like none other, how they look up to you. It’s not a secret to anyone at Jujutsu High that your students love you just as much as you love them – even Megumi can’t escape a small smile as soon as you enter the room.

Knowing that, Satoru needs to swallow hard. Oh, you will totally go crazy if you hear where they are…Should he even tell you? Wouldn’t it be fun to let the elders deal with you? He knows how much you can change from your calm and collected self into a maniac if it comes to your precious students.

“Well, about that…”, he mumbles, scratching the back of his head just like Megumi does when he’s uncomfortable.

Your eyes dart towards him immediately, arms crossed in front of your chest. The face your husband makes doesn’t mean anything good, that’s for sure. Just a few days ago you talked for hours with the director and the elders about a potential mission for your first and seconds years. It would have been today if you aren’t mistaken. And all of them aren’t around…Your hands clench into fists, gaze piercing through him without any mercy.

“The elders decided on carrying out the mission despite your disapproval. Out students are on the way to where the special grade was last seen.”

“Is that so, huh.”

Your eyes darken in an instant, your cute and feminine features change so drastically that Satoru himself has to blink a few times. That causes trouble. And he’s totally here for it.

“Thank you for telling me, love. I will go and have a little talk with them.”

With a last soft kiss on his cheek you move towards the main building, towards the disgusting people who risk the lives of their students like there’s no tomorrow. Anger rises up inside your veins and almost takes your sight. You explained them over and over that a special grade curse along with who knows how much other strong curses is too much for only students to handle. Especially after they had to work so much lately, after they’ve been through hell and back, they aren’t capable of doing that alone. But instead of sending your husband and yourself like you suggested, they simply ignored your advice and sent them away without letting you know.

Enough of being kind and collected. You’ll show them a side of you they haven’t seen yet.

“What are you doing here, Gojo?”, Yaga Masamichi questions when catching a glimpse of you.

His heart stops for the split of a second. The way your stone-cold eyes dart towards him, your fists hanging unpromising down your body, your straight and confident walk…

No, he has never seen you like this. What happened that made you this mad?

“Are you responsible for the first and seconds years going on that suicide mission?”

While your voice does sound as collected as usual, the look on your face and how you position yourself in front of him tell otherwise. Of course, he is aware of the fact that you care about your students as if they’re your own children, but still…

“Me along with the elders. And as a teacher of Jujutsu High you are advised to accept that decision”, he replies without thinking twice.

You nod briefly, taking in his disrespectful words. Throughout all this time you taught here at Jujutsu High, you never lost your temper once, not even on the battlefield. You were always able to keep yourself together, no matter how rough the situation was. But this, the fact that they play with the lives of your beloved students like with dolls truly tests your patience to the brink.

“Follow me to meet them.”

You know exactly where does old farts are. Sitting on their asses in the room on the end of the hallway, drinking tea while deciding on the lives of others.

“Wait, you can’t just stomp in there”, the director shouts after you.

But you couldn’t care less. With a swift motion you swing the door open, exposing them sitting down just like you imagined.

“Satoru Gojo’s wife? What are you doing here? We didn’t ask you to come”, one of them barks at you.

“You all are aware of the fact that I could kill every single one of you without even blinking, right?”

Deadly silence hangs in the air, all pairs of eyes set on you in utter disbelief.

“(y/n)”, Yaga Masamichi breathes out behind you, the words that just left your mouth being so unusual for you.

What happened to the sweetheart of woman you are, the gentle smile that’s always plastered on your face, your calm and collected character of gold?

“And still, you foolishly decided on sending my students away. Into their certain death”, you continue.

It takes all of your strength to not lunge yourself at them. Who do they think they are to play with your student’s life like that? Aren’t they aware of the psychical damage that was done to Yuji when he fought against that special grade along with Nanami only a few days ago, when Nobara and Megumi almost lost their lives if it wasn’t for Shoko?  

“I know how much you care about your students, but this is-“

“Shut up”, you hiss through gritted teeth at the man standing in the door.

“You will call my husband here and tell him to support my students within this difficult task. You will send both of us after them to make sure that no one gets hurt because all of them have been through enough horror the last weeks.”

“And what if we don’t? You are nothing but a teacher, no matter how strong you are and who your husband is”, the oldest of them interrupts you rudely.

The clicking of your heels against the ground runs shivers down their spine while you elegantly make your way towards the man with long white hair who spoke to you so foolishly. Before anyone in the room is able to react, you grab his throat and yank him upwards, head meeting the cold wall behind him.

“Then you will experience yourself why I’m called the snake sorceress. Do you know about the deadliest snake in the world? The inland taipan can send up to 230 humans 6 feet underground with a single bite. Be aware of the fact that I am able to wipe out this whole room without even blinking. Don’t ignore me when it comes to my students ever again or I’ll show you than I’m capable of more than smiling gently.”

You let go of him roughly, wiping your hands on your uniform.

“I expect your call within the next 5 minutes. And please inform my husband about your decision as well”, you announce into the room with your usual calm voice.

Without sending them a single look, you leave the room and building behind, humming to yourself while holding your face into the sun. Yes, that definitely felt good. Maybe that was enough to make them learn their lesson. You might be gentle, but you aren’t a special grade sorcerer out of nowhere.

“Look who’s there, the woman who just threatened the higher ups of Jujutsu High all on her own. Did you really choke that man?”

Your husband grins at you widely, his blindfold already taken off. You simply shrug your shoulders and smile at him.

“Apparently I was able to convince them somehow. Come on, we should get going. I hope all of them are alright…”

“With a mum like you, they’ll definitely be.”

Your head darts towards your husband warningly, hands holding onto his shoulders.

“Don’t say it like that, I’m their teacher”, you clarify.

“And you care about them as if they were your own kids.”

“Well, someone has to do this, right?”, you reply with a cheeky smile before rushing to aid your students.

Hopefully they’ll never forget the lesson you taught them today.

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[willowsnook]

hello can i can a scotch and coke in a tall class please??

oscar piastri x bsf!reader

just shut up and come here

-------------------------------------------------------

Golden retriever and grumpy cat. That was how you would describe your friendship with Oscar. You saw the world through a golden tint, wearing your emotions on your sleeve and always making the best of things. Oscar on the other hand was different. A man of little words which you didn't mind much because you could talk for hours. He would just sit there nodding and to an outsider it would look like he wasn't paying attention but he often would bring things up that you had said weeks ago so you knew that wasn't the case.

The two of you had met in elementary school, becoming fast friends after you were the only one to beat him in a running race. For him, you made him feel better about things, always knew what to say, and loved him so unconditionally that he could never feel lonely. For you, he was your rock, always dependable and loyal, always ready to defend you against anyone.

Years of friendship had made it easy for you to tell what he was thinking even when others couldn't. The one thing you couldn't nail down though, was if he was interested in being more than friends with you. When you were 10 years old you told your mom that you were going to marry him and that feeling hadn't wavered one bit. But you really couldn't tell if he was planning on marrying you or not. The last girlfriend he had was in high school and you hadn't even seen him flirt with anyone. So you would stay delusional for now.

Right now you were watching him argue with his agent over the phone. You had been scheduled to fly to Miami 5 hours ago but due to weather, you kept getting delayed by his pilot. At this point, it was decided that you would just fly first class on a flight already scheduled to depart.

Oscar joined you back in the waiting area after he got off the phone and you stopped messing around on your phone.

"Everything okay?" You asked and he nodded.

"The hotel was overbooked but they are still giving us one room."

"We've shared a room before Osc, not a big deal," you said and he shot you look.

"King bed," he said simply and your eyes widened.

"Well as long as you don't spread eagle I think we'll be good," you said reassuringly. He nodded looking away. Well gee, don't act like this will kill you Oscar, you thought to yourself.

Boarding the flight, Oscar grabbed your bag from you and you admired the way his biceps bulged as he carried them in front of you. You were happy to see that you had a private cubicle-type thing with two seats that were basically recliners.

After eating the in-flight meal you started to feel the effects of the sleeping pill you had taken earlier. Because of the time zone difference, you needed to sleep the whole flight so that you would be kind of adjusted for Miami.

Oscar had already dozed off and you shifted around for what felt like hours trying to get comfortable. You opened your eyes when you heard Oscar let out a deep exhale and found him looking at you.

"What's wrong?" He asked groggily.

"I can't get comfortable."

He looked at you for a second before lifting the blanket and patting his lap.

"Come here," he said nonchalantly and your face flushed.

"No, that's weird," you whispered and he rolled his eyes.

"I can assure you that it will be way more comfortable," he said. "Your dog sleeps on me all the time."

"That's because he's a dog," you whisper shouted. "Plus the seat belt light is on."

"Just shut up and come here," he said sending you a glare and you sighed. Unbuckling your seatbelt, you climbed into his lap, curling up with your head resting on his chest. His arms wrapped around you and he rested his head back, closing his eyes.

"More comfortable?"

"Shut up," you grumbled, drifting off.

You woke up before the plane started to descend and climbed back into your seat. Neither of you said anything about the situation and you decided that you never would.

Landing in Miami it was 8am. Oscar had a bunch of stuff to do with McLaren so you took your luggage to drop off at the hotel before you went sight-seeing. You planned on staying out the whole day in order to not be able to go to bed till later that night.

When you got back to the hotel at 7 you were dead on your feet. Oscar was sitting on the couch eating takeout and he offered you some. He very briefly told you about his day and then let you yap on for a while about yours.

You both got ready for bed and as you were changing a thought occurred to you.

"I think I'm not going to unpack because I'll just ask the front desk if another room is open tomorrow morning," you told Oscar who was already laying in bed. His face scrunched in confusion.

"Why? This is fine," he said.

"Yeah for tonight, but you might want to bring someone back this weekend," you said nonchalantly.

"Who would I bring back?"

"I don't know Oscar, a girl maybe?" You said exhaustedly. He didn't say anything just looked at you for a minute.

"When have you ever seen me bring back a girl?"

"I'm not with you all the time so I don't know," you flushed. "If you want to bring back a guy that's fine too I guess."

He looked at you for another second shocked and then snorted throwing his head back against the pillow.

"This is so fucking stupid," he said and you crossed your arms starting to get annoyed with him.

"Please enlighten me Oscar on why me wanting to get another room is so stupid."

"How many girlfriends have I had since high school?" He asked.

"None," you replied.

"Have you ever seen me flirt back with a girl that has come up to me when we're out?"

You shook your head.

"Have I ever talked about any girl that I would be interested in?"

You shook your head again.

"Why do you think that is?" He questioned. "I mean I'm an F1 driver for god's sake, you'd think I could get anyone I wanted right?"

You didn't say anything, confused at where this was going. He ran a hand through his hand letting out a frustrated groan.

"I have been in love with you since you beat me in that race when we were five years old," he said and your heart stopped. "So no, I'm not too keen on letting you get another room when I finally have you in my bed next to me."

Your breath caught in your throat as his words sank in, disbelief and warmth swirling in your chest. "You... what?" you whispered, barely able to find your voice.

He chuckled softly, "I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. Now will you please come to bed."

You slowly climbed into bed next to him, his eyes not leaving yours.

You leaned in, your hand resting on his chest as you pressed your lips to his—this time with no hesitation. His hand found the small of your back, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. It was soft at first, but then something more surged between you, and the kiss grew hungry, like years of longing finally spilling over.