#steak sequel
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cicaklah · 2 years ago
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WIP guessing game: hair
in looking at this one I discovered the aborted steak sequel and MAN this is some prime octane cicak bullshit right here:
He puts his head under the spray, and remembers, remembers short red hair caught in the firelight, remembers a chunky burnt orange jumper, remembers the gnawing background feeling of terror, remembers temptation, remembers thinking that he had to be strong, back when he thought that being strong could only ever mean denial.
When he opens his eyes, through the steam he sees red hair, long and undone, brushing creamy skin, blurred and hazy as if in a dream. She's beautiful, beautiful as each time he sees her and every time there’s that feeling of the serum still doing its work, allowing his heart to just flutter open a bit further.
Still, there's a pang of sadness, even if he's seen her naked back so many times now, seen her in the throes of passion, seen her asleep and dreaming, seen her sleepy and soft in the early morning light, and yet, there's that memory of her naked and fearful of him in a shower, of her blood spilling from her body, the bullet that ripped her open, however carefully aimed. The scar is almost unnoticeable, surely the sign of a good surgeon, expensive lasers, perhaps creams applied by someone with delicate fingers. The danger she’s been in, the way she could have killed him, how it all could have been shattered right then. How he rationalised that this was her big plan, that she wrapped him up like a gift and popped a stamp on the back of his head and sent him off to Edwards, sure in the knowledge that twenty two years of her influence would be enough for him to know how the dance goes.
He really is the sum of all of her parts.
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wrenkos · 2 years ago
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i like to think about mushiango but at the same time i think mushi would never stop being a hater
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piko-power · 5 months ago
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Tails: You ever thought there might be more to life than chili dogs, Sonic?
Sonic, hugging his chili dog: He didn't mean that, baby. No, no, no...
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aptenodykes · 2 years ago
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alright ren squad, who would you fan cast if our boy ever made it to the big screen.
My top 3 choices are:
Jon Bernthal (he’s got a toxic masculinity vibe that I rock with)
Ben McKenzie (He would have to grow his hair out + age at least five years tbh)
David Harbour (already has a few DILF characters under his belt, familiar territory)
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eudaimaniacs · 1 month ago
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strawberries - part ii (logan howlett x female reader) | part i
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character/universe: logan howlett/wolverine (x-men/marvel)
word count: 1.4k words
warning/s: smut, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, and one mention of somnophilia
notes: i am feeling a bit better now and finished writing the sequel for my last post. i can't wait to write more since my semestral break is coming (might need some requests for inspiration). enjoy reading!
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The smell of fresh and fruity strawberry jam infused the cozy cottage air. You watch Holly as she is tempted to taste it by asking you if she can.
“No, honey. The jam is still hot, and we need to cool it down,” you instructed the eager young girl sitting on the countertop.
It was dinnertime, and you decided to prepare both breakfast and supper. You called Holly to help you prepare the tools and jars needed for the jam. The process took longer as you cared for an energetic and hungry three-year-old. Holly snuck a few strawberries to eat, and you told her that if she had more, there would be less strawberry jam to enjoy. The young girl cried out to her dad, almost taking her away from the kitchen. Logan thankfully calmed Holly down, and she was back to being excited about eating it for breakfast.
“It’s time to prepare for dinner, Holly. Tell your dad it’s time to eat,” you carried your daughter and let her run off to Logan. Holly giggled as she excitedly sprinted to show your husband the fresh strawberry jam and the food the two of you made. You grinned as you prepared the plates and utensils and set them on the wooden table. You went back to the kitchen to get the steak, potatoes, mixed vegetables, and chicken nuggets for Holly.
As you put on the last meal, the middle of the table was decorated with the most beautiful bouquet. Blooming blush peonies and white daisies complimented the sage green table runner you recently bought weeks ago. Holly held a pink peony as she struggled to sit on the chair to eat.
“Bought a last-minute gift for this beautiful dinner, [Y/N],” Logan gushed as he kissed your forehead and sat down. You prayed a short grace before eating, and the three of you began to consume supper. Holly started the usual dinnertime conversations with her tales of imaginary friends, the strawberry jam you made with her, and the jokes she and Logan would make.
As your daughter told the latest fairytale she read, you focused on eating the steak and tried not to touch Logan for the upcoming event tonight. He could smell your arousal even with the delicious food on the table. You were excited to spend the night with Logan, making a new child and sibling for Holly to play with.
While you ate the last steak on your plate, your daughter innocently asks, “Mommy, Daddy, can I get a little sister or brother?”
You and Logan dropped both of your utensils as Holly caught the attention of the two of you. You struggled to answer the question as you glanced at Logan, who was flustered. She had never asked or even hinted that she wanted a sibling in this household. You and Logan wanted another child but agreed to wait some years before having a second child. You went to the nearest neighborhood for Holly to play with children her age, but you sensed that she could get lonely when she’s stuck at home.
“Sure, you can, bub,” Logan replied as he ruffs the soft hair of the young girl. Holly giggled and thanked him before finishing the leftover food on her plate. You chuckle as you see Logan smirk, knowing you two will fulfill the first child’s wish.
You turn on the ballerina music box as you lull Holly, tired from the day of excitement. She groggily remarks how she’s looking forward to tasting the strawberry jam tomorrow morning. You pat her head as you watch her slowly close her eyes and dream until the sun breaks out. You kiss her forehead and head out to go to the bedroom.
“Is she asleep?”
You sit at the vanity chair to brush your hair and see Logan wearing his tank top. Your eyes wander to the tight denim jeans and unbuckled belt. Oh, he was waiting.
You sigh and softly stare at Logan, “Seems like she’s going to have a great dream tonight.”
The dim, yellowish lamp decorating the bedroom made you ethereal and radiant in this intimate setting. Logan intensely stared as he sat on the bed, waiting for you to stop brushing your hair. You hum as you remove your nightrobe little by little. Your heart was pumping faster as you and Logan would make another child. You hear Logan shuffling out of bed and standing next to you.
“Getting impatient here, princess,” Logan’s guttural voice made you shiver. He tucked your hair and imprinted your neck. You moan at the sensation of his tongue marking you. You grab his arm as Logan continues to kiss and bite your neck.
Out of breath, Logan growled, “Let’s go to bed, [Y/N].” He seized your hand and gently pushed you on the mattress. You slowly took off his tank top, exposing his magnificent build and chest hair that will always make you weak. You spread your legs as Logan held himself from tearing off your nightgown. Your lustful and sleepy eyes tell him that you want him, you need him.
Logan clutched the hem of your nightgown and slowly took it off. You sigh as you feel the cold air crashing over your exposed body. The man on top growled as he saw your soft breasts and the transparent, lacy cream panties covering your arousal. You wrap your legs around Logan as your desires of getting fucked and bred by him rise more.
“Too eager, princess?” Logan whispered as he squeezed and massaged your boobs and perked your nipples.
“Oh, yes, fuck. Please give me another child, Lo. Want another kid,” you moaned as you grind yourself on his jeans. Logan chuckled at your impatience and granted both of your wishes. He unzips his pants, takes off his underwear, and slowly enters inside of you. You whine at Logan’s massive size and immediately embrace his broad back. You scratch his back at the intense pleasure. Logan’s drive to breed you until the sun peeks out of the curtains made it more exciting.
He didn’t give the usual rough and fast sex, wanting to be more passionate as he gave you another child. The sight of you carrying his child made him hard, and your commitment to your family made Logan weak and soft. The two of you silently moaned, not wanting to disrupt your peaceful, sleeping daughter. You tapped Logan’s hand, signaling that you were close.
“Want me to fill you up, princess?” Logan huskily said as he quickened his pace.
At a loss for words, you try to reply and state how much you want to be filled with his warm cum and have Logan’s child again. He chuckled as he heard your weak whispers and whines, trying to articulate the upcoming orgasm. Logan positioned your legs over his shoulders, making sure that his seed went inside of you.
“Here it comes, [Y/N]!” Logan growled as he released his warm cum to your tight walls. You moaned at the feeling of his sticky substance coating your pussy. Logan immediately lay beside your shaking, out-of-breath body. You snuggle against his chest as he kisses your head and massages your back.
“Thought we were going to fuck until morning, Lo,” you sleepily remark. You were tired; however, you expected Logan to ensure you were bred. Your lustful and exhausted eyes look at Logan’s soft ones to hear his explanation.
Logan passionately kisses you, your sweet, honey-like taste coating his tastebuds. You yawn as you nestled in his chest, hearing the soft thumping of his heart.
“I wish we could, [Y/N], but we promised to eat strawberry jam with Holly tomorrow morning,” Logan whispered. You giggle at the remembrance that the two of you have to wake up early and eat breakfast with your daughter. You were excited to have another child finally and for Holly to have a sibling to play with.
“You need to sleep, princess. If I get hard again, I might fuck my seed again inside of you,” Logan remarked. You slapped his chest as you lightly scolded him and reminded him that you two needed to be awake in the morning. You hum yourself to sleep and feel your lids closing little by little. The last thing you hear is the soft groans of Logan sleeping. The two of you are in a tight and loving embrace, and you are filled with Logan’s love for you and his growing family. All you could dream of was the taste of your homemade strawberry jam and the conception of you and Logan’s second child.
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eudaimaniacs - 2024
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imagine-you · 3 months ago
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all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me [Logan/Reader]
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Summary: Sequel to won't somebody come take me home? and closer to where I started. Now that you've decided to put the past behind you, you're focused solely on what the future holds for you, Logan, and your family. Whether that means teaming up with the X-Men to help stop the escalated attacks around the city or sitting down for a nice dinner with Logan, Laura, and Wade, you're ready for all of it. You're so close to being completely happy until you find yourself a victim of one of the attacks and find out that someone from Logan's universe has managed to return. You never expected your new life to be easy, but you certainly never thought Logan's wife would show up and disrupt everything you had built for yourself. Word Count: 9k Author's Note: This chapter may contain: Angst, Reader Whump, Surprise Cameos, Angst, A New Villain, A Disrupted Villain Origin Story, Training Montages, Angst, A Smidge of Hope, Illusions, and…Angst. (but I swear the angst gets resolved. y'all have to trust me!! there will be a happy ending for this fic.)
When I'm With You I'm Home 'verse
won't somebody come take me home? // closer to where I started
Read on AO3
If anyone had told you while you were stuck in the Void that there was a future where you found yourself in another universe and your greatest wish had come true, then you would have chalked it up to a pipe dream and left it at that. If anyone had told you there was a future where your worst nightmare had come true, well then, that would've been easier to believe.  
"What are you making?" Laura asked, peering over your shoulder to get a look at the stove.  
"Something special," you told her, winking at her when she let out an impatient huff. "Steak and pasta," you clarified, turning your attention back to where you were spooning sauce over the steaks, hoping the flavor carried through for you.  
After getting back from your original universe, you had felt like the weight of the past had been lifted off your shoulders. You didn't give a fuck about your original Logan and as far as you were concerned, he could fuck off into whatever happy existence he wanted with Jean. Did you want them to suffer? Maybe. But it was no longer a requirement for you to heal.  
Your Logan had made sure of that.  
Now, weeks had passed, and you felt like a new person. Gone was the obsession with the past and in its place was now your excitement for the future.  
Your future with Logan and Laura and even Wade. Your future with a new family and a new team. Life hadn’t given you a moment of rest, but you were happy to know that when your back was against the wall, you had people ready to jump in and protect you from whatever hit came your way.  
All of you had spent the last couple of weeks wrapped up in the escalated attacks happening throughout the city. There weren't many indicators about who exactly was causing them. Half the time, there were explosions and other times it was just an outright slaughter.  
Logan and Wade were out trying to help the X-Men clean up the latest catastrophe. You had opted to stay home with Laura, taking a moment of well-deserved rest from running from one tragedy to the next. Logan had left you with a promise to return that evening and a kiss that hinted at more later.  
You thought it was cute how Logan kept insisting he was retired, but the first sign of trouble, and he couldn't help but jump right in. It was why you loved him, because even though he had spent years spiraling after the devastation he faced with his old life, he still couldn't help but try to make things better for others.  
You liked to think you had a little something to do with that.  
Even though you were just within reach from a perfect existence, you knew it still wasn't without its problems. You and Logan still had a lot of work to do. Both of you were still holding things close to the chest, afraid to show them and lose everything you had earned.  
Sometimes, you caught Logan simply watching you, wary and concerned, as if he thought you were about to leave him. Other times, when Logan woke in the middle of the night and reached for you, you wondered if he knew it was you or if he still held onto the memory of his wife, seeking her for comfort. Logan had been open and honest with you, but you sometimes got the feeling that he wasn't telling you everything. Some nights, when you couldn't sleep, you would lie awake and watch him, terrified that if given the chance he would leave you in a heartbeat for his old life.  
You always had the feeling like the other shoe was about to drop, so you had taken on the mentality that you were going to enjoy every day you got with him. Which was why you were hellbent on making the perfect dinner and having the perfect dessert all ready to go when he got back home. 
"Shit," you hissed when you started stirring together the ingredients for the pasta sauce. "I forgot one thing," you groaned, glancing over at Laura. "I've got to go out to grab something. Will you keep an eye on this for me? Just make sure it doesn't burn," you instructed her when Laura gifted you with a skeptical look. 
"What if it burns?" Laura wondered, reaching out to take the spoon from you when you handed it to her.  
"Then we'll order takeout," you answered with a shrug of your shoulders. "It won't be a big deal, but I still want to try to get this right," you told her, reaching out to flick her ear. 
Laura turned a glare on you, and you knew if you were anyone else, she would have already brought out her claws. You saw a fond smile take the place of her scowl before she shook her head. "Hurry," she urged you, turning a wary look at the stove.  
"Ten minutes," you promised, reaching out to grab your keys and wallet. "Just going down to the corner store." You saw Laura open her mouth and you knew what she was going to ask. "Yes, I'll get the cookies," you told her, thinking of the chocolate monstrosities she was so obsessed with lately.  
Laura grinned at you, pleased, and cautiously began to stir the sauce.  
You locked the apartment door behind you. You knew Laura was more than capable of taking care of herself and she had already been through hell and back, but you couldn't help but want to protect her in every way you could. She was still a kid, even if she would point out she was seventeen.  
You made it to the tiny market just around the corner from your apartment within four minutes. You were eager to get back and finish dinner. You couldn't wait to see the look on Logan's face when you had dinner all set up and told him that Laura even helped make it. You knew Wade would invite himself to dinner, so you would of course have extra just for him. You knew you wouldn’t be here without him, and while he drove you crazy, you now couldn’t imagine your life without him in it.  
You were a family, fucked up and weird, but full of love.  
You grabbed the cookies Laura wanted and searched for a can of black olives. You caught sight of the spices and started in that direction to see if there was anything extra you wanted to add to the sauce. You figured you had maybe five minutes to get back before Laura insisted she did everything she could to salvage dinner, but maybe you should just order pizza.  
You were reaching out to grab a bottle of parsley flakes when you noticed something pass right in front of you. You startled at the sight of the playing card, faintly glowing pink, as it sailed towards the shelves in front of you.  
You didn't even have time to prepare before the card landed and the shelves exploded. You brought your arms up, trying to shield your face from the shrapnel. The force of the blast was strong enough to throw you back into the shelves behind you. You felt your head connect with the edge of one the shelves and stars exploded in your vision.  
There was a ringing in your ears and the taste of blood in your mouth. Your head felt like it was spinning as you struggled to open your eyes, not even sure when you had closed them.  
You could hear footsteps approaching you and you managed to squint up at the person standing in front of you. Your gaze drifted from his boots to his trench coat and then up to his eyes. They were glowing a faint red.  
"Remy?" You groaned, reaching up to press a hand to your forehead. You blinked a couple of times, trying to make sense of what was going on. You looked at your fingers and they were stained red, blood coating them. Your face was stinging from the bits of shrapnel you hadn’t been able to shield yourself from and the back of your head was aching in a way you had never felt before.  
Remy crouched down in front of you. He reached out and tucked his fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him. "Now, I know we've never met before, so how is it you know my name?" He turned your head one way and then the other, considering you for a brief moment, before he made a thoughtful noise. "Oh, but believe me, we're going to get to know each other real well, bon ami. Just you wait." His eyes were no longer glowing, but there was a devious look in them you didn't like.  
You attempted to sit up, but your vision swam and you felt like you were going to throw up. “What the hell are you doing?” You attempted to ask, but your words were slurred, and you were having a hard time concentrating on him even though he was right in front of you.  
"Let's get you home, hm?" Remy said, gathering you up in his arms. He stood, lifting you with him, and you tried to wriggle out of his hold, but he was clutching you tightly enough that you couldn’t move.  
The last thing you saw was the underside Remy's jaw and the blur of the ceiling tiles above you before darkness swept in to collect you.  
You woke to sunlight that had escaped past the curtains in your bedroom and crept right towards you. It was an unwelcome intrusion and you brought your hand up to shield your eyes.  
You groaned, forcing yourself to sit up, before squinting at your surroundings. Your head was aching, each pound of your heart sending a bolt of pain right behind your eyes. You didn’t remember drinking the night before or even crawling into bed, but it felt like the worst hangover you had ever experienced. 
"Fuck," you grumbled before forcing yourself out of bed. Logan seemed to already be up, and you wondered if he had liked your dinner the night before. There was something wrong, something off, but you didn't know what it was yet. You were having trouble thinking past the pain.  
You walked towards your bedroom door, intent on hunting down the bottle of painkillers you kept in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. You tried to think about what happened before you fell asleep and finally your memories came back to you in a dizzying rush.  
Making dinner, leaving Laura in charge, and locking the door behind you. Going to the store, a playing card that ending in an explosion, and Remy promising to take you home.  
"I had the weirdest dream," you muttered as you stumbled out into the living room. The pain in your head spiked with every footstep and your mouth was so dry your tongue felt like it was sticking to the roof of your mouth.  
The first thing you noticed was that Logan was sitting at the kitchen table and the second was that he wasn't alone. You froze just a few feet away from the table trying to make sense of what was in front of you.  
Because Logan was there in his usual seat at the table and he had his hand outstretched over the surface. His hand was clutching the stranger's like a lifeline and he looked as if the person in front of him had just saved him from his own personal torment.  
You slowly rounded the table, a twisting feeling of dread in your gut, as you got a look at the stranger.  
It was you.  
Well, not you. She had a scar crossing one of her eyes and her hair was a different color. She carried herself with more confidence, her shoulders not slumped and head held high. She was wearing the same yellow and blue X-Men suit you first saw your Logan in when you were trapped in the Void.  
But she was still undeniably you. Just a variant you could have been in another universe.  
"What?" You felt helpless as you looked to her and then to Logan. Pain had been overtaken by confusion and now you felt like you were going to pass out for an entirely different reason. "What's going on?" 
"My wife," Logan said, finally tearing his gaze away from her to look at you. "She's back. A portal opened up last night and she walked right through it." His voice was filled with incredulous awe, and it felt like there was a knife digging into your chest. Your breath hitched and you tried to push past the feeling being carved out right where your heart resided.  
You didn't think it could get any worse until you noticed the look of pure love and adoration he gifted her. You had only ever seen that look aimed at you and seeing it given so freely to someone else had you clenching your fists at your sides, anger washing over you.  
"So, what?" You snapped, trying and failing to keep the hurt out of your tone. "She's just going to live here now? We'll all be one big happy family?" You didn't want to fight anyone for Logan's attention. Not again. Not after what happened with Jean in your other universe. You couldn't lose again. You wouldn't.  
Logan stared up at you before he finally looked back at his wife. "We're still married," he pointed out, brushing his thumb gently over the wedding ring on his wife's hand. "And she was my first love," he continued, twisting the knife deeper and deeper. "I'm sorry, but I can't leave her again." 
You watched the couple in front of you, frozen in that moment. Hurt and indecision rose within you and you felt trapped.  
"So, what does that mean for me?" Your voice sounded so small and scared that you almost didn't believe it was yours. You had never felt this way with your Logan before and you didn't know what to do.  
Logan finally tore his gaze away from his wife to look at you again.  
"I'm sorry, but now that I have her back...," he trailed off, letting you assume the rest for yourself. "You can stay until you find somewhere else to go," he offered, as if it was any consolation.  
You let out a hollow little laugh as you took a step away from him. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Logan, after everything you had been through together, was giving you up as if you meant nothing to him. The same ache and loneliness you felt back in your original universe was descending on you again. You thought you had put those feelings behind you, but now you were having to confront them again in the worst way.  
Because this Logan had loved you like the other one never had and this one had promised never to hurt you. But here he was, crushing any hope you had that this Logan would be different.  
You forced yourself to turn around, putting your back to them. You couldn't stand to look at them anymore.  
You were faced with Laura standing there in the doorway of the apartment. She was silent, watching you, and you had a sinking feeling in your gut that told you this wouldn't go your way either.  
"Laura, I--," you started as you approached her, not even sure where you would end up. "Do you want to come with me?" Was what you settled on, because evidently you couldn't stay here. You had been through so much with Laura. You had survived the Void together and fought together just to survive. Surely, that had to mean something to her. ‘Don’t leave me all alone,’ was what you wanted to beg, but you didn’t want Logan to have the satisfaction of seeing you brought down to your lowest point.  
Laura took a few steps forward and you wondered if she would meet you in the middle. Instead, she walked past you and stood at the table, joining Logan and his wife. "I can't lose him again," Laura said, echoing your thoughts. Except, Laura could stay and you had to go.  
You saw Logan's wife, the other you, the one he was choosing over you, reach out to flick Laura's ear. Instead of snapping at her, Laura turned a fond, soft smile on the other you and you felt another piece of your heart break.  
That was your thing with Laura and that should have been your smile. Logan's wife had swept in and cleared you out, leaving no room for you.  
You could feel the fight or flight instinct rising within you and you chose to get the hell out of there. It wasn't your home anymore, because someone had filled your role. You were no longer needed.  
You didn't even know where you were going to go, but you somehow found yourself right at Wade's doorstep. You brought your hand up to knock, terror and despair coursing through you.  
Wade answered the door in a suit and tie. You would have asked him what the hell was going on, but he didn't give you a chance to talk. He leaned on the doorframe, considering you with a grimace. "I thought you'd show up here after you found out." 
"You know?" You weren't sure why it felt like such a betrayal, but you always thought Wade would have had your back. Why didn't he track you down and warn you? Why had no one just given you some kind of heads up that you would be completely ousted from the life you had built for yourself with Logan? 
"Sure do, baby bird," Wade confirmed with a quick nod of his head. There was something off in his tone. This didn't feel like the same Wade you had come to know and reluctantly love. This almost felt like a stranger wearing a Wade mask. "I was there when she showed up. Just walked right out of that portal and into Logan's arms like she hasn't been dead for the past who knows how long." 
You hated that you could picture that perfectly, as if Wade's memory was playing out in your head.  
"Yeah, well, it looks like I'm not needed anymore now that he has who he really wants." You felt like an idiot for ever thinking you were more than just a placeholder for Logan's wife. You didn't want to cry in front of Wade, but you could feel the sting of tears in your eyes.  
Wade tilted his head to the side, watching you with an intensity that was almost unnerving. "So, what are you gonna do now?" 
"Can I stay here?" You tried, knowing that you couldn't go back to your apartment. You didn't want to ever step foot in there again, knowing that the bright, happy memories you had created were now tainted with misery.  
Wade brought his foot back, kicking the door to his apartment open enough for you to see Vanessa seated at the table. "No can do," Wade answered with a wince. "You see, I'm trying to win her back over and I'm already sharing a one bedroom apartment with Blind Al, so it's a little cramped around here. But hey, if you join the X-Men, it usually comes with free room and board. They'll take anyone," he got out on a laugh, before he waved his hand. "Well, except for me. You shoot one person," he lamented, shaking his head in disappointment. "Or, hey, I hear Love Island is casting. Might be time to find you a new boo." 
"So," you started, trying to reconcile the fact that you no longer had a home with Logan and now you couldn't find one either with Wade. "I can't stay here," you said, and it was no longer a question, it was just a fact of your new lonely, pathetic existence. 
There was something so off about everything that had happened that day and you were trying to make sense of all of it. You had just spent the night before making a special dinner for your family and now you didn't even have one.  
Everything was happening so fast that you felt like you weren’t even really processing it. Why hadn’t you just stayed at the apartment and fought for Logan? This was your life. Your home, your family, your love. Why were you just giving it all up so easily? You didn’t understand, but now you weren’t even sure you would be able to force yourself to go back. 
"No," Wade admitted, with a sheepish grin. "It's not only Vanessa, you see, but Logan. I mean, Deadpool and Wolverine are a package deal now. There's no breaking up that superhero wet dream team and if I'm harboring his ex? Then that'll just make it more awkward than the time I used his toothbrush on Dogpool. Trust me, he made me regret that one. There are some places those claws of his should not go," he warned with a shudder.  
Hearing Wade refer to you as Logan's ex broke something inside you. You could feel hurt begin to overwhelm you, swiftly replaced by anger. You let out a short, sharp scream of frustration. You didn't even realize you had formed a forcefield around you and pushed out with it until you realized Wade had been knocked several steps back.  
"Y/N--" Wade started, but you turned away from him.  
You didn't want to be placated and you didn't want to deal with anymore of Wade's nonsense. You let yourself go invisible, knowing that it was the only way you would feel safe now.  
You wandered around the neighborhood for hours, trying to figure out where you belonged. You trudged from street to street before unerringly finding your way back to your apartment complex once night fell. You didn't dare go inside, but you stayed out on the sidewalk. People passed by you, never knowing you were even there, and you kept your gaze up on the window that shone brightest in the dark.  
Logan was up there. He was with his wife and Laura and they were a family in their home enjoying a night together. You were no one with nothing and no home to share with anyone. 
You weren't sure why you stayed there for so long, but you thought it had something to do with hope and an inane wish that he would come downstairs and tell you it was all some sick joke. You thought of his promise that he would always find you, even when you were hidden, but that hadn't been true either.  
Logan was happy without you, because he had what he really wanted all along. So, why would he come find you when he didn't even need you anymore? 
Or worse, Logan knew you were down here and just didn't care about you anymore.  
With that revelation, you turned and walked away. There was a swirling mess of thoughts stuck in your head that dredged up the same old insecurities you thought you had shed once and for all.  
You would never be good enough. You were unloved. You didn't matter. You weren't worth anything. 
You had no one.  
You felt tears slide down your cheeks as you aimlessly roamed from place to place. You next found yourself outside the X-Mansion, wondering if you should take Wade's advice and join up with the X-Men. As much as you longed to feel like you belonged somewhere, you didn't think you could go back to saving people with a smile on your face like you weren't slowly withering inside.  
There was a whisper of your name on the air. You glanced over your shoulder, looking to see who called your name, but you found no one. It had been so faint that you might have imagined it, but there was a feeling, an electrified touch, that had briefly set your nerves alight.  
You weren't sure what time it was, but you were exhausted. You found it pathetic and sad that you didn't have anywhere to go. You didn't even have money for a hotel room. All you could think to do was find a park and drop down onto a bench. At the very least, you knew you could protect yourself if anyone tried to attack you.  
You formed a forcefield around you, ignoring the fact that it would only slip away while you slept, and let yourself drift away.  
When you woke, you weren't alone. You jolted in place, suddenly wide awake, and scrambled to sit up. On the bench across from yours, a man was sitting reading a newspaper.  
He quirked an eyebrow at you when he realized he had your attention.  
"I was wondering when you would wake up," he said, lowering the newspaper.  
He had dark eyes and darker hair. He wore a suit with a black trench coat, but the illusion of a businessman was ruined by the combat boots he was wearing. His skin was pale and there was a faint ring of red around his eyes that had you wondering if he was wearing makeup. His appearance, oddly enough, seemed false, but the grin on his face was genuine, if a bit unsettling.  
"Were you watching me?" You couldn't help but wonder, half-torn between becoming invisible to make your escape and staying to get answers.  
"Yes," he answered, unashamed by his actions. "I thought it fascinating that someone would let you stay out here all alone. You don't deserve that, so I stayed to keep watch over you." 
You wanted to tell him you could take care of yourself, but you didn't feel so sure about that anymore. The reminder of your loneliness crept up on you and you could feel doubt settle over you. You were on your own now without a team. No one was going to come save you if you found yourself in trouble. You would simply have to claw your own way out.  
"What's your name?" You decided to ask instead, studying him from across the small concrete path that separated you.  
"Nathaniel," he introduced himself with a smile. "And you are?" 
"Y/N," you returned, with a half-hearted wave.  
"Now, I know we just met, but I do have one thing on my mind," Nathaniel started, leaning in towards you after placing his newspaper on the bench beside him. "What on earth are you doing out here all by yourself?" 
You felt your lips twist to the side in a frown as you bit down on the side of your mouth to keep a lid on the emotions that threatened to boil over at the reminder of the previous day. "I--," you cut yourself off, not sure how to phrase your situation to a stranger without making it seem as if you had completely lost your mind. "I lost my home yesterday," you settled on with a grimace. "My family kicked me out." 
Nathaniel made a sympathetic noise before he stood up. "May I?" He asked, gesturing towards your bench. 
You shrugged your shoulders in answer but moved over to leave him enough space to sit down beside you.  
"In my experience, family is a fickle thing," Nathaniel continued once he was at your side. "People come and go, but you have to be able to stand by yourself and forge your own path once it all falls apart." 
"I don't know if I can do that this time," you whispered, ashamed to admit that you were on the brink of losing whatever control over your emotions you had managed since waking up.  
Nathaniel turned so he could watch you. It was a bit unnerving, but you figured you had no one else for company. A smirk tugged at his lips as he studied you. "You're a fighter," he assured you.  
"Oh?" You wondered, returning his stare. "And how would you know that?" 
His smirk was still in place as he tapped his temple. "I'm psychic," he proclaimed, holding up his fingers and waving them before imitating a ghostly wail.  
You couldn't help the laugh that escaped you and it felt so wrong.  
"There we go," Nathaniel murmured with a pleased smile. "Look, I know you don't know me, but how about a drink? Coffee?" He prompted, moving to stand and holding out a hand to you.  
You didn't want to wallow in your misery on the park bench all by yourself and you figured Nathaniel made a decent enough distraction. "You're paying," you told him, reluctantly grabbing his hand and letting him help you up. "Only because I don't have any money." 
Nathaniel laughed, the sound briefly jarring to you, and cocked his head to the side. "In that case, I'll buy you breakfast too." 
You found yourself in a diner booth sitting across from Nathaniel. He offered to buy you whatever you wanted, but you settled for a cup of coffee and a stack of pancakes. You weren't all that hungry and you couldn't get your mind off Logan. You wondered what he was doing right at that moment and then you dashed the thought. He was probably happy with his wife and Laura and had forgotten all about you.  
"Hey," Nathaniel called, getting your attention. "Where did you go?" 
You shook your head, biting your lip to distract yourself.  
"Thinking about your family?" He prompted, shooting you a wary look. "I know I'm a stranger and it's none of my business, but do you want to tell me what happened? Maybe I can offer some perspective." 
You scowled down at your pancakes, pushing them halfheartedly around the plate with a fork. You glanced around the diner, spotting a blonde woman wearing a white suit watching you curiously from a booth not far from yours. You shook your head at Nathaniel, not wanting anyone to overhear you.  
"Let's get out of here," you told him, pushing yourself out of the booth. "I could use a walk to clear my head." 
"Alright," Nathaniel readily agreed, standing as well. While he placed a twenty on the table, you made for the door.  
There was that whisper again in the air that had you looking over your shoulder. Someone was calling your name, but you didn't see anyone you recognized. No one was even looking at you except for Nathaniel who was slowly approaching you.  
"You okay?" Nathaniel interrupted, stealing your attention away.  
"Yeah," you muttered, briefly nodding your head. "Just c'mon," you said, barely waiting for Nathaniel to follow you before you pushed through the door and walked outside.  
You didn't think you would be able to confide in a total stranger, but there was something strangely freeing about unloading all the burdens on your mind to someone who didn't know anything about you. You even managed to drop the mutant bomb on him and were surprised when Nathaniel only took it in stride, as if he had expected all along you weren’t quite normal. He mostly seemed focused on what you told him about your family and how you lost them all in one fell swoop.  
"Sounds like you're better off without them," Nathaniel mused. "Anyone who would let you go like that is an idiot." 
"Maybe," you begrudgingly agreed. You didn't think it was possible, but Nathaniel had managed to make you feel better. Maybe letting out all your worries had briefly unburdened you. Or maybe since you lost everyone, you had been desperate to hear someone tell you it wasn’t your fault.  
"They're all ungrateful idiots," Nathaniel continued. "You're special," he told you. "And you deserve more." 
His tone brooked no argument, but you were a little thrown off by how serious he seemed.  
"I don't know what I'm going to do now," you deflected, scowling down at your hands. "I don't have anyone or anywhere to go. And I've just spent the day with a stranger telling him my whole pathetic sob story." 
"I'm not a stranger anymore," Nathaniel offered with a grin. "You know my name and everything." 
"I know literally nothing else about you," you pointed out. You were starting to feel apprehensive about trusting someone you didn't even know. Your head was beginning to hurt and you could feel your hands trembling. You weren't sure why panic had hit you all at once, but you could feel your heart beating overtime in your chest and a cold sweat begin to break out along your skin. You were beginning to hyperventilate, confused and overwhelmed, when Nathaniel took you by the shoulders and forced you to look into his eyes.  
"Hey, it's all going to be okay. Just trust me, alright? Y/N, you with me?"  
You tried to focus on Nathaniel, but there was a ringing in your ears and you swore someone else was trying to get your attention. You shook your head, trying to keep yourself from falling right into a spiral. You forced yourself to take slow, deep breaths, realizing that Nathaniel was also taking them, trying to coach you through your anxiety attack.  
You closed your eyes once you finally felt like you could stand on your own two feet without freaking out. You took a moment to center yourself before allowing yourself to open your eyes again.  
"Thanks," you whispered, nodding at him when he shot you a skeptical look. "I'm fine. I'll be fine," you claimed, even though you knew it was a lie. You were tired of loving and losing. Your heart ached for Logan and you knew that you would never recover from losing him. But Nathaniel, odd as he was, had managed to help you feel like maybe you didn't have to spend the rest of your existence completely alone.  
"I know you will," Nathaniel confirmed with another one of his smiles. "Because you're coming home with me." 
You stared at Nathaniel, waiting for the punchline, but it never came. "I could be a serial killer," you warned him with a scoff. "And you're inviting me into your home?" 
Nathaniel shrugged his shoulders, a smirk on his face. "I'm not scared of you." 
He sounded so sure of himself that you couldn't help the disbelieving laugh that escaped you. "You're completely insane, aren't you?" 
"So, is that a yes?" Nathaniel wondered, holding his hand out to you and waiting for you to take it. "Will you join me?" 
You stared down at his hand for a beat too long to be socially acceptable. It felt like you were about to make a deal with the devil, but Nathaniel had been nothing but kind. He had given you a shoulder to cry on and was now giving you a place to go so you wouldn’t have to spend another night on a park bench. 
You knew it was probably a bad idea, but you still found yourself reaching out to take his hand.  
"Okay," you reluctantly agreed. "I'll go with you." 
You thought it would be weird once you found yourself in Nathaniel's apartment, but it felt oddly familiar. He had a guest room that he had designated as yours and made sure you could take whatever you wanted from the fridge. You didn't know how to return his kindness, but you knew you would have to find a way.  
Nathaniel had gone out to get dinner while you waited on his couch, idly flipping through channels. You were starting to doze off, exhausted, when you heard someone calling for you.  
You squinted at the television, wondering if you were hearing things, when it happened again. You had stopped on a news report, catching sight of the woman from the diner. You assumed she was a news anchor, but the way she was looking at the camera gave you the eerie sensation that she was somehow actually watching you. When her gaze drifted over, as if looking at someone behind you, you rushed to turn off the television. 
You cautiously glanced over your shoulder, half-expecting to see someone standing there. But you were alone.  
 “Y/N,” the voice called again. It was faint, like they were outside, but close enough for you to hear.  
“What the fuck is happening?” You growled, growing frustrated. “Where are you?” 
You stood, wondering if you should go looking for whoever was trying to reach you, when Nathaniel walked into the apartment. He held up the bag of takeout and nodded towards the kitchen table.  
"Ready to eat?" 
Time dragged on as days and weeks passed. You still thought of Logan practically every waking moment, but Nathaniel had done his best to distract you.  
You were grateful for him, because you didn't know how you would have lived without someone there to fill the void in your life.  
You weren't sure what day it was or even how long had passed since you last saw Logan, but you knew that you had started to heal.  
"Sometimes," Nathaniel told you once you voiced that thought to him. "You have to let something break so you can piece it back together to get something new. To get what you truly want. What is it that you want, Y/N?" Nathaniel studied you with the same unnerving intensity he always did and you hated to admit that you were finding it less weird each time it happened.  
Logan was the first thought that came to your mind. You wanted Logan and you wanted your home and you wanted your family. You wanted to show Laura how to cook and you wanted to follow Wade into crazy situations, knowing that he would have your back just like you had his back. You wanted to crawl into bed with Logan at the end of each day knowing that you were wanted and cherished.  
Nathaniel made a disappointed noise before he shook his head. "There's no going back," he told you "I'm sorry, but it's just not going to happen." 
You didn't like the way he sounded so sure of himself. Nathaniel didn't know Logan and he didn't even really know you. You had spent weeks with him, but years of your life had been devoted to a Logan. Your Logan had been better, you knew it, so maybe you were the one who wasn't worthy.  
Nathaniel made a tsking noise before he reached out. He wrapped his hand lightly along the underside of your jaw, his thumb pressed to the other side of your neck over your pulse point. He considered you for a long moment, as if he was searching for something.  
"He left you," Nathaniel reminded you, as if it hadn't been eating you up inside since it happened. "You are special. You deserve to be cherished," he continued, and you started to worry about the potentially romantic direction he was going with his lecture. A brief smile flitted across his face, as if he could read your mind, before his expression slipped back towards something more serious. "You're lost and you're broken," he added, gently sweeping his thumb over your pulse point. "Let me put the pieces back together." 
You weren't even sure if you trusted Nathaniel, but you had spent so long hurting that you were tempted to say yes.  
You suddenly felt like someone had brushed their hand over the back of your head and you heard someone call your name. It was the same voice as before and you knew better than to look for someone you wouldn't find. But Nathaniel's eyes strayed just over your shoulder, as if he had heard it too. There was a brief flicker of irritation on his face before he gifted you with a sincere smile.  
"I've got you," he promised. "No one is ever going to get near you again." 
"Okay," you finally agreed, if only because you were curious about what he had in mind. You also couldn't deny that you were just so desperate to not fall back into that desolate pit of isolation you had begun to dig for yourself. Nathaniel saw you and he wanted you. There wasn't much else you felt like you could ask for now.  
And if Nathaniel's sharp smile sent a shiver through you for all the wrong reasons, then you were the only one who had to know about that.  
Nathaniel seemed insistent that in order to move on, you would have to make yourself stronger. To him, that seemed to mean training day and night, improving upon your power in new and terrifying ways.  
You spent hours, days, weeks, stretching the limits of your power. Your power had always been meant as a defense, to protect and contain, but now you wanted to wield it as a weapon.  
Your progress felt excruciatingly slow, but you had to admit that you were pleased with the results. It started simple enough with just a thought. You wanted your forcefields to hurt. The barriers you would have erected to protect yourself should also be used to hurt anyone who dared get too close.   
Nathaniel had rented out an abandoned location in a strip mall and set up targets for you to use. More often than not, he was watching you, as if he was waiting for something. Other times, he seemed content to leave you alone, trusting you would have something new to show him when he returned.  
You practiced on the targets, first forming forcefields around your fists and breaking anything that stood in your way. Nothing held up to them and you started growing bored of that tactic. You started to think that if you could form a forcefield, then it could be any shape you wanted. Spikes, swords, knives all began to adorn the edges of your forcefields, facing out and ready to maim anything that was in the way.  
Nathaniel seemed eager when you first formed a forcefield that was outlined with spikes and used it to repeatedly stab holes into the brick fence that lined the back of the property. You were sure he was never going to get his deposit back, but he didn't even seem to care. He only encouraged you to think bigger and do more.  
With time, you were even able to produce two forcefields at once. It was exhausting and drained all your energy, but you liked the idea of protecting yourself while also using a different forcefield to hurt an attacker. From there, it was only natural to think of taking a forcefield, forming it around an enemy, and turning the projected spikes inward, letting them impale your target without a way to escape.  
You felt stronger and invulnerable. You had never thought to test your power like this, and the feeling was nearly intoxicating. Logan and Laura and Wade were still on your mind, but now you knew that you didn’t need them. Like Nathaniel told you, you could stand on your own and forge your own path ahead.  
No one would hold you back now.  
The first time you felt the full force of your own power was when Nathaniel was taunting you into a reaction.  
"He doesn't care about you anymore. He's moved on with the true love of his life and you are nothing to him. You don't need him anymore. You can show him that you're better off without him." 
There were targets surrounding you, but you didn't care about them. All you could think about was Logan and the stupid lovelorn look on his face as he looked at his wife. He looked like he had been saved. Saved from you and whatever pathetic existence he was ready to settle for in her absence. You deserved better and you wanted to rip that stupid look right off his face. You wanted to make him and her regret it.  
You let out a scream of frustration, punching out with your forcefield at one of the targets, but it got carried away from you. All the targets snapped back, taken out at once from the blast. It carried farther out, nearly ripping the door off its hinges and shattering the front windows.  
You looked at Nathaniel, where he was splayed on the floor, staring up at you in awe.  
"You did it," he praised as he began to push himself to his feet. You crossed over towards him, holding out your hand to help get him up off the floor. “I knew you could do it.” 
"What was that?" You wondered, breathless and ecstatic. Your power had never quite felt like that before. You wanted to try it again, the rush of it addicting. If you could hone that and strengthen it, then you could use it on multiple enemies at once. You could become nearly unstoppable.   
"A repulsion field," Nathaniel answered, reaching out to rest a hand on your shoulder. "With time, I expect you'll be able to direct it and control it. You’ll be able to take out a whole city if you want." 
"Shit," you breathed, still shocked that you had managed something like that. "I didn't think I could use my power in that way. It was...exciting," you decided with a grin at Nathaniel.  
"I told you that you're special," he reminded you. "I knew you had that in you all along." 
"Thank you," you found yourself saying. You considered the targets on the floor and wondered if there would be any more use in them.  
"I have extras," Nathaniel assured you. "Want to try again?" 
You felt a pleased little thrill shoot through you at the thought. "Fuck yes," you answered.  
A week passed since you found out about the extra perk your power allowed you. You felt more confident and assured of yourself. Gone was the self-doubt and in its place was a feeling that you could defeat anyone or anything.  
You were walking to the store with Nathaniel, thinking about what you might want to make for dinner. Nathaniel was being unusually quiet and leaving you alone to your thoughts. You wondered if something was wrong, but then you spotted her.  
It was you. The other you. She was alone. No Logan or Laura or Wade in her vicinity.  
You couldn't help the way you froze on the sidewalk or the fury that rose up swiftly enough you felt nearly sick with it.  
She was to blame for everything. She had stolen your life away from you and now she got to be happy while you spent the rest of your life wanting someone you would never have again.  
"Is that her?" Nathaniel asked, rounding back to standing at your side. "The one who stole your life from you?" 
You nodded your head, attempting to keep a lid on your anger.  
"Why don't you make her regret it?" 
The idea was so simple, but so damn tempting. You could just imagine the look on her face when she realized she was incredibly outmatched now. You could destroy her within seconds and she would never be able to stop you. 
You knew it wasn't something you should entertain. You had lived your whole life as a hero. There was a line you would have never dared to cross before but after everything that had happened, you were starting to realize that line was blurred beyond recognition. As far as you were concerned, she had stolen your life from you, and it was only right that she realized what a mistake that had been.  
"You're better than her now. Stronger," Nathaniel continued, leaning in closer to you. "She can't do half of what you can. Show her what you've learned." 
"I don't know," you tried to deflect. You wanted your revenge, but there was still a tiny voice in your head saying it wasn’t right. It wasn’t what you were supposed to do. 
"Aren't you tired?" Nathaniel hissed, his hand coming up to clutch your shoulder in a near-painful grip. "Tired of being the doormat. The hero. The martyr. Don't let them get away with it. Don't let her walk away." 
You didn't even realize you had made up your mind until you were walking up to the other you. She was checking out a display of plants that had been left outside of the market for customers to choose, but she seemed to sense your approach, because she turned to consider you.  
You weren't sure what she saw when she looked at you, but her eyes went wide with fear, and she immediately pulled up a forcefield. You stalked forward, intent on your target. You didn't care if anyone was watching, because you felt like you were completely justified in your actions.  
You passed right through her forcefield and pushed her back. She fell to the ground, staring up at you in terror. You pulled your fist back, forming your own forcefield around it. You let spikes form along the outside facing towards her. All you had to do was bring it down onto her face. It would be a killing blow, and you would never have to think about her again. Logan would lose the love of his life, but maybe he would come back to you. Maybe you could return to him stronger, better, and without any more competition.  
For a moment, as you looked right into her face, it was like gazing into a mirror. The scar was gone, her hair was the same as yours, and you were wearing similar clothes. She looked just like you.  
You were convinced that she was you.  
And that made you pull back, horrified at what you had almost done.  
Her eyes were closed, ready for a blow that you weren't capable of dealing any longer.  
"I'm sorry," you whispered before stepping away, propelling yourself right out of her forcefield.  
"Y/N?" Nathaniel called, pulling your attention towards him. "What are you doing? She's right there. Kill her," he demanded, his lips pulling back in a sneer.  
You shook your head, feeling something indescribable but ultimately terrified swell within you. What had you become? What had Nathaniel done to you? You had let him so far into your head that you had almost done something unspeakable.  
You made yourself go invisible before you took off running. You didn't know where you were going or where you would even hide, but you knew that you needed to get away from Nathaniel. He had pushed you to do more, be more, and you had never once stopped to think about which road you were heading down and whether it would lead you right to the point of no return.  
You could hear Nathaniel yelling for you to stop and come back, but you didn't listen. You wanted to get away from him and just think. It felt like you had let him take up residence in your head and now you wanted to figure out how the hell to evict him.  
You ran until you felt like you were going to collapse. You finally stopped outside of a library. You rushed inside, catching a glimpse of the news anchor flipping through a book as you went right for the back corner.  Two bookshelves met there and you sank right to the floor in front of them. You dropped your head into your hands and forced yourself to take deep breaths.  
"Y/N," you heard someone call. It wasn't Nathaniel and it wasn't anyone else you immediately recognized. But it was familiar. They had been trying to get your attention all along.  
"What," you snapped, already feeling like you were on the verge of crumbling. Nathaniel had been right that you were broken, but who was going to put the pieces back together this time? It felt like Nathaniel had managed to piece them back together all wrong and you didn't even feel like yourself anymore.  
"Y/N," the voice called again.  
You closed your eyes and focused on the voice. You reached out for it, desperate for any sort of lifeline. It was a spark right at the back of your mind. You rushed to meet it, eager to figure out who had been trying to talk to you.  
"My name is Charles Xavier."  
You startled, nearly letting the tenuous connection between you and Charles drop, but finally throwing everything you had towards it.  
"This world is a lie," Charles continued once he realized you could hear him. "Do not let him break you. They're coming to find you." 
"Who?" You couldn't help but ask, hope and fear clashing inside you, threatening to overwhelm you.  
"A rather odd group of saviors," Charles answered, a hint of amusement clear in his words. "But stay strong and do what you can to break free of his hold. He has a way to keep me out, so once he finds you, I’m afraid I won’t be much help to you. Just hold on until they get there." 
You didn't know how you were going to get yourself out. You were starting to think it was hopeless, because you hadn’t even realized you were trapped in the first place. The more you thought about it, though, the more obvious it became that something had been wrong since the morning you woke up and Logan’s wife was sitting in your kitchen. The fact that she had come back from the dead, Logan’s quick dismissal of you, Laura and Wade both turning their backs on you. Nathaniel’s convenient timing and the way he watched you as if you were nothing more than an experiment for him. A pet mutant he could poke and prod and play with while you were none the wiser.   
“Who’s coming to find me?” You didn’t dare to assume that you were worth the rescue, but you couldn’t help yourself. You had to know. You had to hold onto the one little spark of hope you could feel burning defiantly inside you.  
For one terrifying moment, your mind was still, and you felt crushingly alone. Just when you thought you had been abandoned, Charles left you with one final word.  
"Logan." 
Author's Note: There will be a fourth chapter! Did I have you going for a while there? I felt so evil writing this. I truly did. If you liked this, please let me know. Not to sound needy, but comments/reblogs/etc. literally fuel me to write more and inspire me so much to keep coming up with fun stuff. Thank you to everyone who has shown this series any support! Also, if you would like to be added/removed from the taglist, just let me know!
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@facelessfionna @i-left-my-cat-on-the-stove @whyam1heree @serendippindots @janilovecookies
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deathbxnny · 6 months ago
Note
Woooo, congrats on 1k followers, sure has been a ride, huh?
Now, with requests back open, it's time time for the sequel to my Arle request!
Okay so, like I said in that ask I sent a while ago, this one takes place in the same "continuity" as the angsty af Arle request you did last req period. This one takes place some time after that story, and is less angsty in this case (but there's definitely still some here).
Here, similarily to the last request, the "Mother" of the House is staying in... let's say Fontaine, tending to one of the injured children (could be some rando kid, or maybe it's one of the Fontaine trio) after a mission. Unlike last time though, it's looking as though the child will pull through, that "Mother" won't have to bury another of her kids!
Bad news tho, the people responsible for the child's injuries are coming around to finish what they started. Arle, who's handling business elsewhere, catches wind of this and makes haste to help her wife.
Little did those who came to finish the child realize what danger they're in. Because you see, fem!reader is a former child of the House of Hearth. Not just that, she's the wife of a Harbinger. Normally she doesn't engage in violence, but these people Hage intentions of ending her child's life, and she simply cannot let that slide.
And so, Arle arrives just in time to bare witness to her s/o going absolutely John Wick (does she kill anyone with a pencil? That's up to you 🤭) on the bandits who dared to cross her not once, but twice.
(Part one) (Part three) (Part four) (Part five)
Ohoho.... I absolutely love this, dear Anon, and I'm hoping you'll love my spin on this as well!! Although I have to admit that I gave it a bit of a mellow end, instead of the "John Wick" type of ending, mainly because I found it more fitting with what I was going for... but anyhow, thank you so much for this request, I was definitely looking forward to it, hehe!!<33
Content: Some gore, Near character death, mentions of near fatal injuries/wounds, blood, mentions of grief/child loss, Reader snapping, violence, assassination attempts, Reader is referred to as "Mother", heavy angst, hurt/comfort, kind of a good ending for once?, stitches
Reader uses she/her pronouns here!!
((Not proofread))
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The last one standing had crimson palms. (Arlecchino x Fem!Reader)
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"I... I wish to..." "Shh... not another word, child... don't you dare say it." Your hands were stained red once more, pressing down on another gashing, deep wound, sweat running down your forehead as everyone around you attempted to stop the bleeding. You didn't want him to see what had become of him, one hand resting over his teary eyes to stop your heart from shattering any further. You wished she was here, your dearest wife, who had to choose this week of all the others to leave the country for a short business trip.
And today was supposed to be a good day. One filled with the laughter of children and the smell of grilled sausages and steaks coming from the garden. You were trying to have a little festival together to celebrate the start of warmer months. But the atmosphere had now become suffocating with the smell of sharp iron and sweat instead, the gentle warmth now scorching hot, exhausting, and grinding you down to the bone. However, you couldn't let go of him now. You couldn't let him die. You refused to give up on him, especially. You refused to let him become another buried angel.
His hand pressed against yours weakly, his breaths deep, pathetic gasps for air, as he tried telling you something important through broken cries. "Mother... Mother, please, you have to listen to me." He coughed out, blood staining his lips, as his other hand reached out blindly to grasp onto the fabric of your once white sundress. You furrowed your brows against the darkness of the room, light only filtering in through the moon outside and the shaky hands of Lynette trying to keep a lantern steady so her twin could keep patching his younger brother up.
"What is it, Freminet?" You indulged him, trying to keep him awake at all costs. His voice was hoarse, raspy, once silky blonde hair now sticking to his forehead as he gulped dryly to collect his thoughts.
"They are coming for us, mother... and you are next."
Lyney gave you a look, one filled with an undefined emotion he only ever had when it came to your protection. If you didn't know better, you would've been terrified at how similar he was becoming to his father. "Those assassins we encountered during our mission, Mother... they weren't ordinary ones, to say the least." He muttered to you, his mind replaying the moment one of them struck his brother, who was just trying to protect them out of pure instinct. He was brave, despite the shyness he often portrayed.
"How so?" You wiped away the sweat on your forehead, nose wrinkling when another member of the house handed you a medkit before they disappeared into the shadows again. "They... knew us by name. Every single one of us. And then-" You waved over Lynette to stand in your place whilst her twin spoke, so you could unpack the needed supplies for the upcoming "operation" you had to conduct on your son. You've become a near professional over the years. Something else you didn't choose to do nor want to be.
"-They uttered your name. We... believe that they are trying to weaken Father. And you are that weakness they are seeking, Mother.-" "-They've come to finish the job. We... we need to evacuate everyone.. we need to hide her.-" Lynette hushed Freminet quickly, as she pressed some cloth into his mouth. With a glance downwards to his wound, she determined that it would definitely hurt horribly to stitch him up... but he'd live. For the first time in weeks, someone would live. She closed her eyes to hide those tears that threatened to spill in relief.
You stared at the three of them for a moment before you simply proceeded with placing the first few stitches into the boy's wound wordlessly. He writhed in pain, his fingernails digging into the mattress below whilst his screams and cries were muffled by the cloth. Lyney and Lynette were trying to hold him down, their bodies wincing involuntarily at every sharp breath or movement from their brother. Your expression was meanwhile unreadable, hands moving automatically until you cut the string and were done with your little procedure. It's as if your mind completely fazed out, only driven by the need to fix and protect, keep everyone alive no matter what.
"Lyney." The young man hesitantly met your gaze, his body shaking when his brother fell limply into the bed again, his breathing heavy and uneven. "Evacuate everyone into the upper floors and then come back to watch over Freminet." You said, quick to wipe your hands with a nearby towel nearly coldly, but Lyney knew that look in your eyes. You were sick of it and would take it all into your own hands if your wife couldn't. "Mother, you can't just-" "-Lynette, use the backdoor and let this bird free." You tapped the golden cage on the nightstand with your fingers, the little sparrow chirping curiously. It was a messenger bird, one specifically designed to catch your wife's attention and bring her home instantly when things got out of control.
But you weren't using it for it's purpose tonight. No, everything was completely under control here... you just needed her to come back home to stop you once you're done.
"Mother-" A sharp look made him quickly reconsider what he was about to say, a hand pressing against his chest whilst he bowed. "... we're on it." Lyney muttered, signaling Lynette to love with him, which she did after grabbing the bird cage. Their paths split at the stairs, the girl practically descending them two steps at a time, which got the attention of their fellow bretheren immideatly. "Everyone! Get into the attic or your rooms at once! Mother's orders, so get moving! Barricade your doors and don't open them up to anyone! This is an absolute emergency!" Everyone jumped when they heard the usually playful magicians voice bark out orders harshly, automatically getting the job done as everyone filed up the stairs to do as he said.
Lyney pushed through the crowd to continue looking for stray children who may not have heard him. His heart was racing against his ribcage, sweat dripping off his forehead he could only barely wipe off with a handkerchief he accidentally dropped when someone bumped into him. But your orders were clear in his mind and kept him steady. He knew that he and most, if not all, other kids of the house could take care of themselves just fine... but this was something beyond their means. Something usually only Father got to handle.
By the time he finally got back to his brothers room, you had left it behind, nowhere to be found, and yet the injured boy had a simple blanket covering his shivering form now, dressed in clean clothes and resting on perfectly white bedsheets. Lyney waited by the door, his hand gripping the handle tightly, as he listened to his sisters familiar steps running towards him. He let her in, eyes glancing around the dim hallway one more time before he tipped his hat down and shut the wooden entrance again.
The only sound heard for a moment after was the chirping of a bird in the dead of night until deafening silence filtered in once more.
---
The house of Hearth was never still and unmoving, not even in the darkest parts of the day. The late hours were the busiest, filled with agents and children alike walking in and out of it's doors under the cover of shadows to complete their given tasks and missions. The iron, bloody scent left behind by their previous endeavors, their hushed words to eachother as they passed by, the movement of paper being hidden under floorboards, some given to you with proud looks for approval, as you stayed up with them until the first rays of the sun danced in your eyes... it was never calm, never quiet. Yet the intruders didn't question it. They didn't even think twice to enter the house, the open birdcage. They mistook the silence and stillness for safety.
The first assasin stepped in through the picked lock of a backdoor entrance, his cautious eyes trying to catch any looming danger that may cause them trouble. Yet with nothing in sight, he waved over the rest of his three little friends right into your humble home. "Okay, you know the plan... kill as many of those little rats as you can." "And what about the Mother?" One of them asked, his hair clumsily hidden under a makeshift hood, a dirty grin on his lips in anticipation.
"Can I get rid of her? It won't be much of a struggle, I'm sure. She's just a measly housewife anyway." "Heard she's a pretty thing, though." A round of chuckles filled the kitchen before the first shrugged. "Do what you want. We just have to be done by dawn... let's split up in two groups, then. Just in case." The men agreed, one group making their way upwards, whilst the other searched the ground floors.
The darkness was inviting, the silence emitting a false sense of safety that made the intruders let their guards down, unaware of your form slinking after them. You were calm and collected, eyes dull, the dim moonlight not catching in them anymore. A mother's rage was a dangerous, unpredictable one. Filled with the need to make those who hurt her children suffer, she'd advance even through the most perilous paths for the sake of glory, revenge.
Unbeknownst to anyone, you had put two and two together a long time ago. These intruders, who belonged to a foreign enemy faction, were the cause of many of your children's deaths. They were the reason as to why you had to hear them cry out that odd wish so often. They had dared to enter your territory tonight to take away the rest of the family you had worked so hard for to have. You worked so hard to be a good mother. You bled, you cried, you slaughtered your way here. You became a "mother" one could be proud of. And on this fateful night, you'd prove your worth and pride to even Celestia above you with their screams that will reach far and wide. Your hand gripped a silver dagger, one originally gifted to you by your wife, as you blew out a lantern in one of the hallways, plunging everyone into further darkness that was far from warm.
It was ice cold.
---
"Wait outside." Arlecchino gave the Fatui agents a sharp, warning look, her clawed fingers tight around the Scythe as she entered the still, quiet building she called home. Her eyes glanced around carefully, noting immideatly that the danger that lurked in the dark was familiar. The bird on her shoulder chirped, reminding her of why she had come here in the first place. The meeting she had was cut short by it flying through the window, the call for help loud and clear. She had simply walked out then, her priority always having been you and the house, although it still made her wonder why exactly everything seemed so... unusually silent. Did Lyney and the other children deal with the threat already? If so... where were you?
Her keen ears picked up movement in the living room nearby, which made her calmly make her way over to it's entrance. With a raise of a brow, she stopped when she stepped into a puddle of blood. It seems like her suspicions were partially correct... althkugh who it was that took care of the intruders certainly came as a surprise.
"... You came." Your voice made the tension in her shoulders cease, eyes flickering to your form seated infront of the fireplace. The orange light cascaded across the dark room, the four mangled bodies laying at the bottom of your favorite lavish loveseat being a testament to your victory, and yet you remained still as a statue, back turned to her to observe the flames instead.
"You called." Arlecchino replied after taking in the situation, the sound of her heeled shoe echoing off the walls, as she approached you carefully. Her clawed hand grabbed onto your shoulder, head tilting to look at the side of your head. Your eyes were cold, not even the scorching warmth of the fire melting them. You were unreadable, hands bloody, and yet still so tightly gripping onto the dagger like your life depended on it. And despite that, you were still breathtaking to the woman.
"Are... you alright, my dove?" She asked, a genuine tone in her voice that was only ever reserved for you. The tears in your eyes burned when you finally looked up at her with a pained expression. You weren't like her. You couldn't just kill and be as proud as you hoped to be. You raised your hands towards her, bloody palms raised towards the gods the way they often were when you pleaded for help and forgiveness for the death of your children. You didn't need to say anything anymore, as she pressed a hand to your cheek with an acknowledging nod.
She wasn't good at comfort, nor did she ever try to be. A father didn't comfort his children in her eyes. No, a father simply led them to glory, and that's it. But that didn't mean that she was a bad wife, too. She sat down next to you, uncaring of the bloody mess that surrounded you, when she pulled you close to press your foreheads together. It was a way to silently show her support. She was there for you and understood you.
"I was scared... they hurt Freminet, and I couldn't fathom losing the rest-" "-I know. Thank you for your bravery, my dove. I'll take it from here." Her words were curt and short, and most would perhaps chalk it up to indifference. But when she held you close like this, gently rubbed your back and promised to take care of you only she knew how to, you found yourself being lulled back into the familiar comfort you were so used to. You knew that despite everything that happened, however, she could still not promise that this would never happen again. Your hands will always be stained crimson for as long as you were a Mother. There was no going back. There was no leaving the house.
But... you both were stuck in it together forever, weren't you?
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Alrightttt... this took a while to finish, mainly due to work and me being sick again. But yeah, thank you again for the request, Anon, and I hope you liked this!!<33
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zepskies · 1 year ago
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Strong as Blood - Part 1
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Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader
Summary: After you accidentally break through a solid wood table, you know there’s something wrong with you. You begin to have your suspicions, but can you keep it from Ben long enough to find out? 
(In other words: This is the story of how you and Ben discover that you’re pregnant.)
AN: This two-part fic can be read as stand-alone, but it’s really a bonus sequel to Break Me Down!
Word Count: 4,500
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Angst, fluff, and a smutty ending. 
To find the chronological reading order for the series, check out the series masterlist. ⤵️
💚 Break Me Down
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Part 1: “Probably Temporary”
Make no mistake. Ben was still a terrible cook.
He’d sort of gotten the hang of the grill though, even if he technically wasn’t supposed to be smoking meat on the apartment’s second-floor balcony. 
You peeked out at your boyfriend through the sliding glass door to make sure he was still doing okay. He caught you though, and shot you a wink.
He was very proud of his grill. 
We’re so gonna get in trouble with the homeowner’s association, you thought, but you couldn’t help a smile. You obliged him when he beckoned you over, and you slid the door open. 
“Almost done? I think our neighbors are going to complain again,” you said with a laugh. Ben rolled his eyes.
“It’s a bit of smoke, not a fucking forest fire,” he groused. “Let those uppity fucks complain. Bet’cha they won’t have the balls to say shit to my face if I go across the street for a little visit.” 
You soothed him with a hand along his shoulder. It also gave you an excuse to check on his progress. You considered this episode to be a success, considering the balcony wasn’t up in flames this time. And the steaks actually looked good. Not brittle pieces of charcoal, but not raw and bleeding either.  
“I think those are done,” you advised. Ben followed your gaze and nodded. He used his bare hands to turn the foil-wrapped potatoes, just because he could. 
“Why don’t you take ‘em in while I finish up these potatoes,” he said. “How’s the rest coming?”
“Good. I’m about to take the casserole out of the oven,” you said with a nod. Meanwhile, he placed the steaks in a glass dish that been sitting near the open grill. He handed it to you, but you almost dropped the steaks when the hot glass burned your hands. 
You hissed in pain, while Ben caught the dish with both hands. His brows furrowed, first in surprise, then in thinly veiled concern when he looked over at you. He reached out for your shoulder. 
“Damn,” he said. “Didn’t seem that hot…you okay?”
You looked up from your stinging hands and sighed at him in exasperation, but you couldn’t get that mad at him. He sometimes couldn’t gauge things like this when it came to what he could handle, versus what your normal human body could. 
“Yeah. I’ll just break out the aloe. First, let me get some oven mitts,” you replied, but your answering smile retained some good humor. Ben quirked an apologetic smile of his own. He decided to follow you into the kitchen, taking the steaks in himself. 
You grabbed your favorite green oven mitts and carefully took out the veggie casserole. It smelled delicious, but Ben still peered at it over your shoulder when you placed it on the counter. 
“Don’t you look at my casserole sideways,” you quipped. “You need to eat more veggies.”
He leveled you with a dry look. “You saying I’m getting out of shape?”
“God forbid,” you gasped, playfully jabbing at his firm abs with a mitt-covered hand. “I’m just saying, your super metabolism is compensating for a lot of booze and Taco Bell.”
Ben rose a brow at your cheekiness. He drew closer behind you, trapping you against the counter with one hand braced on the edge, and the other sliding up your jean-clad hip. 
“You’ve got some nerve. I don’t talk shit about the stash of Twix bars in your nightstand, do I?” he remarked. He nipped at your ear, making you flinch and giggle. His beard was also tickling your neck. 
“You’re peeping in my nightstand now? How dare you,” you teased. He snorted in response. 
“Please. Your purple vibrator isn’t exactly a fucking mystery to me,” he retorted. You felt his smirk growing against your neck. “Might wanna keep it away from the chocolate though. That could get messy…unless you want it to be.” 
Your body shook with the effort of containing your laughter. He was so fucking gross.
“Don’t you need to check on the potatoes?” you asked. “I don’t want to have to pressure wash the balcony again.”
Ben made a sound of agreement, but was sure to swat you on the ass before he went. You jolted, but you just shook your head with a blush and a smile. 
It had been over a year since you and Ben had moved in together. Already you’d had your first fight as a true couple, your first Christmas, and so many other challenges, large and small, that had all come to solidify one thing for you.
You were happy. Maybe for the first time in your life. 
It just came with some…small caveats, you reflected, as you reached into the fridge to find the jar of aloe vera. Before you slathered some onto your hands, you realized they were no longer red, and they didn’t even sting anymore.
“What the hell?” you muttered. You put back the jar and rested a hand on your hip. 
Well, maybe you hadn’t burned yourself as bad as you thought. 
With that oddity still in your mind, you pulled on your oven mitts again and took up the casserole with the intention of bringing it to the dining table. Admittedly, you were a bit distracted. You didn’t remember about the raised ledge in the doorway to the dining room until it was too late.
You tripped, and though you managed to make it to the table, you gasped when you broke right through the wood. 
The table just seemed to give up when you hit it, cracking in half, and sending you tumbling to the floor with hot casserole heaped on top. You were still stunned when Ben tore back inside. His green eyes were wide, his brows furrowed as he took in the state of you on the floor with the broken table.
“What the hell happened?” he asked, though he bent down to help you up. He checked you for injuries, but both of you found nothing. 
“I’m okay,” you said, a bit shakily. “I tripped, that’s all.”
Ben’s brows raised as he looked from you to the shards of the table. He knocked on the wood surface. 
“Cheap piece of shit. Where’d you get this thing?” he asked. 
You flickered at a smile and admitted, “IKEA.”
Ben shook his head. “We really need to broaden your palate.”
You insisted you were all right. But he insisted, without words, on checking you over again. His hands brushed down your shoulders and arms, your hands and neck.
He held your face in his hands, and he let out a deep sigh. You just smiled up at him, though inside, you were hiding a bit of worry yourself. 
That table hadn’t been cheap. It was solid pine wood. 
But Ben seemed to believe you. He also seemed a bit exasperated. 
“I should just layer you up in goddamn bubble wrap. The way you find ways to break yourself is beyond me,” he muttered. Your lips pursed. 
“I resent that—”
“I’m sure you fucking do.”
“Besides,” you said, a smirk pulling at the corner of your mouth. “What a pain in the ass would it be to unwrap me?” 
Ben huffed, even as his hands traveled down to wrap around your waist and pull you in close. 
“True,” he smirked. “You’re already a pain in the ass as it is.” 
You opened your mouth to mount an indignant protest, but he shut you up the only surefire way he knew how. His kiss was swift, deep, and left you humming into his mouth in surprise. 
But you soon pulled back, brushing a thumb along his chin. “We’ve got to clean up this mess. And…did you get the potatoes?”
Ben thought for a moment, but then his mouth firmed into a line. 
“Shit,” he muttered, and released you to run back to the grill. 
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That night, you stood barefooted in your nightgown and took a moment alone in the bathroom to breathe. And to think. And to test the strength in your hands, by bending one of Ben’s metal wrenches like it was a useless paper straw. 
Okay, now you were panicking a bit. 
What the fuck? you thought. You had only ever experienced super strength when you were on V24 (which you had not taken, let alone the permanent stuff). 
But���if you thought about it, there had been one other time when you had felt this strong. And it had been when you were in the hospital, almost two years ago, after Vought Tower collapsed. You’d needed a surgery you might not have lived through. It was Ben’s actions that had saved you…after he donated his blood.
Unless he was somehow giving you transfusions without you knowing, there was only one other possibility you could think of for Ben’s DNA to somehow be in your system…
Holy shit, you thought. And you sat down on the closed toilet. Hard. Enough to dislodge a decorative dish that was perched on a shelf behind you. You gasped, but weren’t able to catch it before it hit the ground loudly. You winced and picked it up, even as you heard Ben’s steps approaching the bathroom. 
“You okay?” he asked predictably, through the closed door.
“Fine!” you said, your voice too high. You cleared your throat and tried to normalize your voice. “I’m fine, just dropped something.”
“Christ. You going for a record today?” he remarked. 
You rolled your eyes. 
A few minutes later, you finished in the bathroom and tried to act as normal as possible as you slid into bed next to your boyfriend. He was watching TV, but he glanced over at you. You knew he was silently assessing you, seeing if you were really okay. 
You gave him a smile and leaned over for a goodnight kiss. You attempted to be chaste, but he deepened it. He slid an arm around your waist and tilted his head, slipping his tongue between the seam of your lips. 
You welcomed him at first…but a tremor of warning flashed in your mind, along with the persistent thought that had followed you from the bathroom.
Should I tell him? 
You didn’t know why your inclination was to hold it in. There very well could be something wrong with you. But if your suspicions were true, then you wanted confirmation first. 
“What’s the matter?” Ben asked. He’d pulled back, sensing your distraction. You came back to yourself.
“Nothing, just tired,” you said, stroking his chest over his shirt. 
Ben looked into your eyes, his face more or less stoic. You saw the way he was trying to get a read on you though, like he didn’t quite believe you. You couldn’t blame him, but you could be very convincing when you needed to be.
He eventually nodded, letting you turn away from him to slip under the covers. Even though you felt the sting of your lie tingling unpleasantly down your spine. 
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You met Dr. Tonya Baker at her office in the Supe Affairs building. She’d been Vought’s top scientist, up until last year. After Stan Edgar’s death and the company’s collapse, the CIA recruited Dr. Baker. 
You didn’t like her. Nor did you trust her, exactly, but she had assisted Dr. Vogelbaum when Becca Butcher came to him with a unique problem. Now, Dr. Baker was the only one left with the knowledge and resources to advise you.
And she was able to confirm your suspicions. She came back with lab results while you sat up on an examining table. 
“You’re eleven weeks pregnant,” she informed you. 
Even though you’d been somewhat expecting it, suspicion and knowing were very different things. You took in a shaking breath, and through your shock, you were smiling. Happy, and even relieved.
Until Dr. Baker spoke again. 
“The super strength is probably temporary. A side effect of the fetus’s genetics. But, it’s also advantageous for you,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “This makes it much more likely that you’ll survive the birth.”
Your breath ceased at that thought, not to mention her clinical delivery. 
“Always with that delightful bedside manner, Doctor,” you quipped. All of a sudden, you were feeling lightheaded. 
Or maybe you were just freaking the fuck out. 
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When you got home that evening after work, Ben watched you. 
He knew something was off with you the second you walked through the door, pale and pensive. Still, you flashed him a greeting and a smile that didn’t reach your eyes on your way to the bedroom. 
So he followed you. And the fact that you didn’t even notice, even flinched when he dropped a hand on your shoulder, told him that you were more than just distracted. The last straw was when you walked into the dresser while glancing back at him. You hissed and shook out your sandle-clad foot. 
Now, you were injury prone at the best of times, but this was a bit much, Ben thought. 
“Geez, I didn’t even hear you,” you said, trying at a chuckle. “Normally you thud around in those combat boots like an elephant. We’re lucky no one lives below us—”
“What’s the matter with you?” Ben asked. He was never one to beat around the bush. 
Your eyes widened a fraction; unease crept down your spine, but you gave him a quirk of your brow. 
“Excuse me?” 
“You fucking heard me,” he said. His gaze was hunter green, serious, and focused down on you.
“I’m fine, Ben—”
“No,” he snapped. “There’s something off with you.” 
You bit your lower lip. It seemed your boyfriend knew you better than you thought. You’d had a plan though. You had wanted to wait until you had a moment to shake off your anxiety and focus on the good when you sat him down this evening.
But you should’ve known better. Ben was remarkably impatient, even when he didn’t know what he was in for. 
And he got tired of waiting for your answer. 
He changed tactics, reaching for your arms. His grip was firm, but gentle in brushing his thumbs back and forth across your skin. His mouth was in a line, and you caught the concern hiding under his furrowed brows. 
“What’s so bad you can’t tell me?” he asked. 
You looked up into his eyes. Despite yourself, you had to smile. I’m not playing fair, you realized. 
“Okay, come ‘ere,” you said. You took his hand and led him to sit with you on the bed. Pulling his hand between both of yours into your lap, you sighed and thought about how you were going to say this. 
After a moment, you got a burst of inspiration. You held up a waiting finger to him and went into the closet to pull out one of your 25-pound hand weights. It might as well have weighed a pound, for how light it felt. You brought it back to the bed, and Ben stared back at you quizzically. 
“So…I didn’t get that table from IKEA,” you confessed. “It was solid wood, and I really did break straight through it.”
He rose a brow. “All right…”
You then showed him your newfound strength, by breaking the hand weight in half with your bare hands. His eyes widened, making you giggle a bit. You deposited both metal heads into his hands. He considered them, then you. His brows were knitting together even tighter. 
“What the hell—”
“Remember when you donated blood for me, when I was laid up in the hospital a couple years ago?” you asked. “I got your super strength for a day or two afterwards.”
Ben nodded. You had been a bit more than laid up, but semantics, he guessed. He was getting more confused by the moment. 
“Well this time, I’m told it’s also temporary…for the next seven months or so,” you said with a playful smile. 
Ben considered your words. He turned them back and forth in his head… 
Finally, his gaze flicked from yours to the broken weights in his hands. And he tossed them to the floor with a heavy thud on the hard wood. 
You giggled in earnest when he reached for your face with both hands. His eyes searched yours for any hint of a joke, his jaw tight and working. 
“Are you fucking with me right now?” he asked. His voice was a hint unsteady. You smiled bright and covered his hands with your own as the beginnings of tears stung in your eyes. 
“Not this time,” you said. “Ben, I’m pregnant.” 
It took him a moment to register your words. You saw the moment it all finally set in, with new realization etching into his features.
Never once had you seen this man tear up. He turned his face away, but you still caught the edges of his emotion. 
You reached for his bearded cheek, turning him back to you. His eyes were red and starting to shine, even though he was fighting it. A muscle in his jaw clenched, and then eased.
After a beat, his hands moved down from your face to brush down your arms, down your sides and around your frame. He pulled you into his lap, for which you went willingly into his arms. And your tears fell in earnest when he pressed a kiss to your forehead.
You knew what this meant to him, but you still couldn’t help but prod at him.
“Are you happy?” you teased, rubbing his back. Ben huffed and brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes. 
“What do you think?” he countered.  
Your hand moved down to slip under his shirt, gliding over the taut muscles in his back as they responded to your touch. You met him with a small smirk. 
“Show me,” you challenged. 
His lips quirked; that was all the encouragement he needed. Ben’s hands moved to tangle in your hair and squeeze the curve of your waist, bringing you flush against him when he kissed you. You inhaled deeply. Your nails dragged up his back, applying some pressure that made his shoulders twitch. 
You didn’t know what your newfound strength felt like to him, but for Ben, you felt solid in a way you hadn’t before. He could let go of some of his self-control and knead your hips with a force beyond bruising.
He could veer away from your lips and raze down your neck, and give your shoulder a love bite that would’ve drawn blood. Now it didn’t even break your skin. It did, however, earn him a pleased gasp. 
Maybe he’d just have to keep knocking you up, he thought. So you’d always be this strong.  
You started rucking up his shirt first, and had to push him back to even get it off him. After that, all bets were off.
It was a mad scramble to shed each other’s clothes, with Ben not being able to get away with his usual manhandling. Your smile grew, as you now had the strength to literally push back and make him work a bit harder for it.  
He smirked up at you when you managed to take him by surprise and push him back onto the bed. You’d successfully bared him for your gaze, but you still had your bra and panties on as you climbed over him and straddled his lap. 
Ben held himself up with a hand on the bed as the other slid around your waist and hooked you in. You took his face in your hands and gave him the full force of your passion.
Your lips claimed his in a devouring kiss, teeth clicking and tongues dueling for dominance. And you ground down your clothed core against his rising length, earning his groan of appreciation into your mouth.
With a flick of his wrist, your bra strap snapped off in the back. You huffed, knowing he’d probably broken the clasp.
Ah well, I’m about to need new ones soon enough.
The thought made you smile against his lips. You let him pull the bra down your arms and wherever he decided to fling it off to. You thought he might start traveling down between your breasts, as was a favorite path of his to map out.
But then, in one smooth motion Ben had you flipped over onto your back. He grinned at your yelp of surprise, but he didn’t give you a chance to recover. He latched onto your neck again, this time on the other side as he scraped his beard and teeth across your skin.
Meanwhile, you moaned encouragements in his ear while his heavy hand squeezed one of your breasts, rolled a thumb over a pert nipple. 
You trailed your hands down his chest, soothing over golden tan skin and freckles and sculpted muscle until you reached his hard length. You earned a straining grunt from your man as you teased the sensitive flesh, a thumb circling over its weeping head. 
Ben grabbed your wrist and gave you a warning look. “Can’t let me fucking concentrate, huh?”
You just grinned and took his hand instead. You dragged it down your body until you guided his fingers into your underwear, between your wet folds. 
“Ben, I need you,” you said. But your need was already in your eyes. Your skin was on fire wherever he touched, and deep inside, where you burned for him most. 
Ben felt it in your iron grip on his hand, now almost as strong as his own. Your legs curled up his thighs to wrap around his hips, teasing him with the soft promise between your inner thighs. So how could he do anything else but give you what you wanted? 
He teased between your folds with his fingers first. Gathering some of your wetness, he circled over your clit firmly. You whimpered as your back arched in response. 
“Gonna sing for me, baby doll?” he teased. Your breathing became more labored as his fingers continued to play with you, but you managed to offer a small smirk. 
“You gonna make me?” you asked. “Think you need to bring out the big guns for that one.”
Ben chuckled. As usual, you were being a little shit. 
So he brought you to the edge of your release, just with his fingers. You were starting to squeeze them tight with your inner walls, your moans getting more urgent. But he withdrew his digits at the last moment, leaving you panting and confused.
“What…”
He smirked down at you and wrapped his slick fingers around his cock, stroking himself a few times. You watched him with expectant, hungry eyes.  
“You want the big guns, I’ll fucking give ‘em to you,” he said. It made you huff, but you had to smile as he returned to you. He hooked his fingers on the hem of your panties and slowly, torturous, he pulled them down your legs.
Those same hands then traveled back up, gliding across your skin with purpose. Your breath shallowed in anticipation.
He eventually gripped your hips, pushing your thighs up a bit farther, and you lined his cock to your entrance. Your heels dug into his ass and added a bit of force when he pushed inside you. And your moans tangled together along with your bodies.
You fairly pulsed inside, and he felt it in your inner walls wrapped so fucking tight around him. His forehead briefly fell to your shoulder. Even though you were panting for breath, you still soothed him, carding your fingers through his hair. 
Normally he’d be going off at a relentless clip by now. But Ben started slow, rolling his hips back and forth into yours at a steady rhythm that managed to take your breath away and make your toes curl.
His name fell from your lips, reverent and pleased. You felt every part of him as he plunged inside you, and it was incredibly fucking hot.  
He took a moment to meet your eyes. He gave you a grin that softened the hard edges that so often lined his face in times like this. And you realized then what was happening.
Ben didn’t do slow. Not for long anyway. But it seemed like he’d taken your challenge to heart. In fact, you had a feeling he was showing you what he couldn’t quite put into words. 
When he reached a hand to part your folds and circle two insistent finger pads around your clit, you couldn’t help but grip his arms tight enough to bruise him. Your mouth opened on a keening moan.
Combined with his deep strokes starting to brush all the right spots inside you, it had you squeezing on him from the inside as you came hard, and made it known in his ear.
“Fuck—” Ben’s brows furrowed as your release finally triggered his own. And his voice joined yours, muffling in the pillow under your head. You shuddered as he spilled deep inside you. 
Your arms came around his back and held him to you for a moment afterwards, just stroking his back, his shoulders, his neck, whatever you could reach while you both caught your breath.
Eventually, Ben’s lips found your neck. You felt the shape of his smile grow there. 
“Too bad you’re already knocked up, or that could’ve been a great way to bring in our second kid,” he remarked.
This time, it took a second for his words to click together in your mind. As soon as they did, you uttered a laugh that shook both of your frames. You swatted his ass in reproach. He smirked down at you.
“I can't with you,” you said. Though you were still giggling. “You’re just gonna have to wait for the first one to come out of the oven.” 
Ben’s smirk evened out into a grin, his face almost boyish in his glee.
“Well, what can I say, baby? You’re a damn good cook.”  
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AN: 😂 Well then. What did you think of how she broke the news? And Ben's reaction to finding out he's finally going to be a dad? 🥹
But of course, it's not going to be all sunshine and roses in Part 2. The reader and Ben reveal the good news to her family, and as we all know, he's hoping for a son...
Next Time:
“Hey,” she said. “You know how much I care about you, right?”
“And where’s this going?” you quipped. But you turned around and gave your little sister a half-smile. You knew what she was about to say.
“So what are you going to do about that?” she asked, gesturing to your man in the kitchen. “Mr. Macho wants his prized stud. What happens if he doesn’t get him?”
You sighed. “Ben’s wanted this for a long time. He’s got an idea in his head of what it’s going to be like, and…we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”
Keep reading: PART 2
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Soldier Boy Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Tag List:
@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort
@xoxovienna @katherineann814 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow
@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @karnellius @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2
@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92
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asliceofzosan · 1 year ago
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in which Zoro takes the blame for not paying for the food at the Baratie (sequel to Sanji witnessing the riceball incident in Shells Town)
Ribeye steaks piled one on top of the other, a massive helping of mashed potatoes with boatloads of gravy, salads, soups, and fancy dishes with names Zoro can't pronounce — all made up the massively long order list that he knows Luffy has not a single Berry to his name to pay with.
Zoro looks around the place, tuning out the story of the giant goldfish that Usopp has told them before, his eyes resting on the blonde waiter flitting about and flirting with every woman at every table.
Sanji was his name. Zoro didn't recognize it. But when he arrived to their table and saw Zoro, it looked like their resident waiter recognized him. Zoro's reputation in the East Blue is not a laughing matter, so it didn't bother him at first. But the way Sanji stared at him, wide blue eyes and with a touch of a smile on his lips, told Zoro that there's something a lot more than recognition swimming in that man's head.
He can't put a finger on what it is exactly though. It's driving him crazy.
"Waiter, can I get a beer and something for my friends?"
Sanji turns to him and nearly steps back in shock. Zoro quirks an eyebrow, confused and a little annoyed. He wore his best clothes today (Captain's orders). And he's pretty sure he even took his mandatory once-a-week bath before they went inside (Nami's orders). Still the waiter looked at him like Zoro had grown a second head. Like he couldn't quite believe his eyes.
"Maybe there really is something wrong with your eye," Zoro muses, crossing his arms as Sanji quickly straightens his posture and shoves his hands into his pockets. "Got a problem with me, waiter?"
Sanji coughs out a laugh. Zoro notes with narrowed eyes that there is the slightest tint of pink coloring his cheeks. Is he blushing? The fuck?
"None at all, sir. I think I was just seeing things." The look in the waiter's eyes betrays his statement but Zoro chooses to say nothing. With a practiced smile, he turns back to Nami and asks her how she'd like her water that makes Zoro stare at him this time like he's grown a second head.
"And um..." Zoro is surprised Sanji hasn't left yet and is once again directly addressing him. "We have a few specialty riceballs not on the menu today. I'll bring them out... on the house."
Without even explaining what the fuck that meant, Sanji turns on his heels and beelines straight for the kitchen.
"I think Nami's boyfriend might be yours too, Zoro." Usopp teases him with a snicker and the glare he gives him is sharper than the blades of his swords.
Now, here Zoro is, letting Ussop's words affect him more than they have any right to as he downs his third bottle of beer.
The specialty rice balls haven't come out yet. Zoro's starting to think it's just a sick joke. But he doesn't let it get to him. Or tries to. Why offer free food when you can't deliver on it? Fucking ridiculous. And no, it's not like he suddenly craved rice balls when the blasted waiter mentioned them. That's not it at all. Bullshit.
"Didn't the waiter said he's coming by with rice balls?" Zoro finally snaps and the conversation his crew was having died down immediately at his statement. Ah fuck. He probably should have just kept his mouth shut because Nami was now looking at him with a shit-eating grin not entirely unlike the one he gave her when he teased her before the meal.
"How would you like them, oh great swordsman?" She teases with a glint in her eye. She cups her cheeks with her hands in delight at the irritated snarl Zoro gives her.
"With or without seaweed?" Ussop chimes in.
"Cubed or crushed?"
"Fuck off," Zoro hisses between his teeth. Nami and Ussop share a look before bursting into laughter. Zoro looks over at Luffy who was swinging his feet and obliviously sipping his milk. When Luffy makes eye contact with him, he just tilts his head with wide blank eyes and it makes Zoro question all his life choices.
"You wanna ask him?" Luffy says, already clamoring over the booth and waving at the object of Zoro's unexplained irritation. Zoro sinks into the seat as Sanji approaches with the bill for their meal.
"Your bill, sir."
"Zoro's asking if you're gonna bring the rice balls you promised." Zoro just stared up at the ceiling and thought of a million different ways to cut a hole into the floor so that the ocean could take him.
There is a headache inducing silence that follows Luffy's question. Zoro can't help but finally look at the waiter and he doesn't know how to explain the feeling that bubbles up when they make direct eye contact. Maybe it's indigestion. It's probably indigestion.
Instead of bringing up the damn rice balls, Zoro just grabs the tray with the bill from Luffy's hand. Just as expected, his annoyingly endearing captain put down an I.O.U for the ridiculously long list of food they ordered. Several possible scenarios could happen from this. And Zoro doesn't want to think about Luffy wreaking havoc in someone else's kitchen.
With a deep sigh through his nose and a knowing look at Nami, Zoro wrote down his own name in place of Luffy's.
"Zoro, what—" Luffy almost took the bill back when Zoro stood up and handed it directly to the waiter, who looked just as dumbfounded as the rest of them.
"If your head chef's got a problem with that, he can talk to me directly. Tell him that for me, won't you?" Sanji takes the bill, reads what's written, and there's a phantom lurch in his chest that happens when Sanji looks up at him and smiles. Zoro doesn't want to describe it. He'll allow himself to firmly believe that it's a side effect of eating too much food. It's indigestion. You're just constipated. Never mind that the feeling is most prominent in his chest and not his stomach.
"Of course, sir." Sanji purrs and the sound runs like a cold river down Zoro's spine. There's a hint of mischief in the gleam of his visible eye. Every instinct in Zoro tells him it's dangerous. He should take his crew out of here, onto the Merry, and run.
But he stays rooted to the spot, wrist limp on the hilt of his sword, as he watches that damn waiter walk away from him.
"WHO THE HELL IS RORONOA ZORO?!"
The steady routine of washing the dishes helps quiet Zoro's racing mind.
It's a very welcome distraction. The clinking of the ceramic against metal utensils provides a cacophonous symphony that helps drown out all of Zoro's waking thoughts. The sooner he starts to think, the sooner he starts to notice how that stupid fucking waiter has just been sitting at the table behind him, cursing Zoro with his mere presence.
Scrub scrub scrub...
"You sure you don't want any help?"
Scrub scrub rinse...
"No."
Scrub rinse dry...
"I really have nothing better to do."
Zoro's eye twitches.
"Good for you."
A long silence follows this and Zoro thinks the waiter finally gave up. That was until...
"Are you still mad about the rice balls?"
"Oh my god!" Zoro nearly slams a pile of dishes onto the floor. He turns to Sanji, who is just casually smoking at the table, and stomps over to him. Once he was right in front of him, Zoro snarls at him, one hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Talk about those damn rice balls one more time, I'm gonna chop your head clean off for them to use in tomorrow's ramen stock."
Sanji blinks, then turns his head to the side to blow smoke away from Zoro. Zoro tries to convince himself that he isn't staring at the way Sanji's lips purse around the cigarette in the process.
"I can still make you the rice balls," Sanji says without a single ounce of fear in his body. "I just couldn't do it while the old man was around." He then stands up and steps around Zoro with a practiced grace. "Are you willing to wait ten minutes?"
"I'm not hungry," Zoro hisses but his stomach betrays him with a loud grumble. He's been washing dishes for so many hours. He probably missed dinner.
Then, as Zoro straightens his posture, Sanji does it again — he smiles and Zoro doesn't know what to do.
"Sit." Sanji gently nudges a chair out with his foot. It lands perfectly in front of Zoro at a perpendicular angle. "I'll have them out in five."
"You said ten minutes." Zoro found himself saying, only to be contradictory. Sanji laughs this time and the resulting smile pierces Zoro's heart with a million cursed swords.
"When someone's hungry, I feed them." Sanji says simply and that's the statement that ends their conversation. Zoro still refuses to sit on the chair, instead finding himself gravitating towards the counter that Sanji was preparing his ingredients at and leaning against the marble.
Before Sanji found them at their table, he brought down a marine and a fearsome pirate with just his feet. Zoro was fascinated by his fighting style even if he didn't want to admit it out loud. But he's always been curious. Especially now, with Sanji whipping out the sharpest knives and using them effortlessly as Zoro would wield the Wado Ichimonji.
"You're good with knives," Zoro says before he could stop himself. Sanji chuckles.
"Of course, I am. I'm a chef. Best one in the East Blue."
"What's a chef doing waiting tables, then?"
"Cause I was kicked off the line this morning. It's a weekly occurrence, nothing special." The way Sanji scrapes his ingredients into a bowl betrayed how he felt about it despite his nonchalance. "I can cook better dishes than everyone in this damn kitchen but Zeff refuses to acknowledge that. It's always 'your food is crap', 'slice those carrots thinner', or 'needs more fucking oregano—"
Sanji throws the knife onto the cutting board, its tip now embedded neatly straight down the middle. It stood perfectly still, like it was afraid of what Sanji could do if he added more pressure. Zoro raised an eyebrow, looking up at the now irritated cook with a smirk.
"Sorry," Sanji mumbles, taking the knife and cleaning it carefully with a cloth. Zoro says nothing. He just props his elbow on the counter and places his chin into his hand as he watches Sanji in his element. Eventually, it's down to just shaping the rice balls with his hands and Zoro asks the question that poked at his mind during Sanji's mini outburst.
"If you're so dissatisfied cooking here why don't you just leave?"
Sanji pauses. His head is down, his blonde fringe obscuring one eye as his fingers twitch against the rice ball.
"It's not about that."
"Yeah?" Zoro leans as close as he could get with the counter between them. Sanji still refuses to look up. "A hot-headed cook who claims to be the best in the East Blue settling down here — where he is not head chef — is as contradictory as it gets."
"You don't know–" Sanji snaps but stops himself immediately. He looks up to glare at Zoro through narrowed eyes. "You don't know why I still stay."
"Enlighten me then, cook." Zoro leans his hip against the counter. "Because really, someone as good as you claim to be has got to have some ambitions. Dreams." Zoro holds the man's gaze. "Do you hate the old man?"
"No!" Sanji counters immediately. "The man fucking raised me. I owe him my goddamn life!"
"Owing him your life isn't the same as giving up your life to work at a restaurant that barely lets you cook."
"You don't know shit!" Sanji nearly slams his fist down on the counter, pointing a finger at Zoro with his face beet red. "This restaurant was his dream—"
"But is it your dream?"
Silence. Total utter silence.
Where color is nothing but a dark void of black and grey, a sea of blue greets him from the pages. Vivid pink skies and tangerine mangroves burst to life. All types of fish swim in his mind's eye but if he reaches out to touch them, it certainly should be real. A phantom breeze kisses his cheeks and water laps at his feet. He's drowning but he swims in delight. He's falling but he feels the clouds cushion him with warmth.
There is a vast ocean out there, one that contains delicacies and species from all four seas. Creatures of every kind, spices that have never been tasted.
The All Blue.
In Sanji's world of black and white — he strives to find the one place that's in screaming color.
There are tears in Sanji's eyes before Zoro could comprehend what was going on. But he wipes them away before he can get a good look at him. The kitchen was quiet around them. The only sound peeking through was the faint music from the bar outside. Though Zoro's heartbeat was louder in his ears than his own breathing.
But he could hear each footstep Sanji takes, the scrape of the plate as it's pushed in Zoro's direction, and the click click of Sanji's lighter as he helps himself to another cigarette. Zoro looks down and sees the rice balls presented in front of him — three heaping helpings, all coated in a different topping, all different flavors.
Zoro takes one.
And it's the best rice ball he's ever had in his life.
"I have a dream," Sanji murmurs, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. One glance and Zoro could see that whatever his dream is... it still burns like molten lava in the heart of this chef. "I'd just rather give up on it than die searching for mine."
Zoro swallows, turns around, and takes the cigarette from Sanji. The ashes fall into his palm, its embers dimming as he squishes it between his fingers.
"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Zoro says, looking up to make eye contact with Sanji. He can see it almost immediately — the longing for something that seems near impossible to achieve, the acceptance that it's hopeless — but Zoro sees it, clear as day, that the flickering flame of hope still shines in Sanji's eyes. That he's just waiting for his sign to let it once again consume his soul in a roaring fire, brighter than even the sun could be.
Zoro wants to see him shine.
"Come meet my captain," Zoro instinctively wraps his hand around Sanji's wrist. Surprisingly, Sanji doesn't pull back. "I think he'd really like to get to know you."
Sanji doesn't protest.
Zoro takes the rice balls to go.
Never waste food.
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according2thelore · 2 months ago
Note
hi! Been seeing some of ur es/ls fics here and do you have a master linkcfor all of r writing? I really want to find the very dirst one and read from there and get with ur wonderful lore/plot!
hi!
consider this the official ES/LS verse masterlist! i will try to be diligent about updating it, but apologies if i miss anything!
(for those that are new [ hi! :) ], ES = early seasons, LS = late seasons, this is a time travel AU that i've been working on where early seasons (ES) sam and dean end up at the bunker with late seasons (LS) sam and dean)
first official one!
age gap
ES thirsting over LS brothers
finding out LS!Bros are together
making references
talking about john winchester
ES!Dean noticing LS!Sam's "pockmarks"
ES!Sam jealousy (ficlet)
ES!Dean not knowing how to help LS!Sam
discussing ES!Sam and ES!Dean
ES!Sam's thoughts on their life
making references (ficlet)
ES!Dean yearning (ficlet)
the steak one (ficlet)
sam runs away
meeting their friends
taking the spark plugs out of cars
first hunt (ficlet)
foursome (ficlet)
LS!Boys set up ES!Boys (ficlet)
ES!Dean wants to dote
ES!Sam feeling like the last choice
mommy ES Dean vs LS Dean
ES!sam gets injured (ficlet)
showing off sexually for ES!Sam
ES!Sam insecurity
ES!Dean/LS!Sam kissing and resulting drama (ficlet)
how are LS!Sam&Dean similar to John
LS!Boys set up confession with ES!Sam (ficlet)
not stealing firsts
first LS!Sam jealousy
proposing a foursome (ficlet)
unsympathetic LS!Sam
sequel to LS!Boys set up confession
ES!Boys dealing with LS!Boys' conflict
ES!Sam notices the no samulet on LS!Dean
ES!Sam finds The Voicemail (ficlet)
@/whoopsitswincest and i chatting about the verse
LS!Sam jealousy Pt. 2 (ficlet)
ES!Dean being adoring of LS!Sam and LS!Sam is a mess about it (ficlet)
ES!Sam calling LS!Sam "pathetic" (ficlet)
ES!Boys are together, but LS!Boys are not
LS!Sam has a nightmare (ficlet)
deans getting protective over both sams negative feelings about each other (ficlet)
ES!Dean & LS!Sam "come talk to me when ES!YouTwo find it out" (ficlet)
ES!&LS!Brothers & apologies
omegaverse bonus!
a little text break bc tumblr won't let me make this one contiguous list for some reason?
ES!Sam asks LS!Dean what ES!Dean likes in bed (ficlet)
cas brings up the demon blood to ES!Sam
ES!Dean makes LS!Sam laugh and LS!Dean does not take it well (ficlet)
anon writes in about LS!Boys date night/dancing
ES!Sam&LS!Sam talk about dean's habits and ES!Dean&LS!Dean talk about sam's habits (ficlet)
discussion of ES!Sam 'forgiving' LS!Sam
[ongoing]
i don't have a hard-and-fast masterlist, but i collect the things i write under the tag #lizzy writes (linked here), and that includes things like things i've written in the tags or as additions to other posts!
thank you so much for asking!!! :) i hope you have fun scrolling through the (frankly embarrassing) amount of fic i've got loaded up for this verse!
-lizzy <3
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randomfoggytiger · 6 months ago
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do you happen to have any fic recs where Scully is the one to initiate msr’s first kiss? I see a lot of the opposite but scully should get to do it
Oh, yes, a ton.
Here are a few I haven't reread in a while. *ahem*
Loose chronological order below~
Little_Pumpkin_Bagel's Vive Ut Vivas
I swallow hard. Assuming by the way she’s looking at me, I’m mostly sure that whatever she’s up to will throw caution out of limits for the sake of both of us. – “And what would that be, Scully?”
She doesn’t answer me. Instead, she holds my collar and pulls me down....
Post One Breath Mulder can't quite conceal his true feelings, which leaves Scully an opening.
trustmescully's Intoxicating Darkness
"I love you too, Scully," he smiles and his eyes shine with his mouth.
S2 Mulder, depressed and suicidal, is stopped from further considerations when Scully chases after him in the freezing rain.
@danadeservesadrink/Samwritess's
Collapse (Tumblr)
But he needed her to know like she needed him to know, and there was no pretending any more.
“I know” she whispered, so quiet it was almost in her head. He nodded silently and pressed his forehead to hers, their eyes closing, hands falling intertwined again between them. 
Post Pusher Scully supports Mulder until his defeat breaks her walls.
Justin Glasser's (xphilefic) Lonely Nightmare
She brushed her knuckles over his cheek. "When are you going to start listening to me?"
Mulder felt his mouth twitch into a smile. "Scully," he said. His voice sounded like it was rubbed over sandpaper. Screaming, he thought. That's from when I was screaming.
"What, Mulder?" She was rubbing his shoulders now, trying to work the blood back into them. He was alive, so she was playing Doctor Scully, all business, rubbing their relationship back to normal as quickly as possible. Mulder wasn't sure he wanted it back to normal so quickly. Mulder wasn't sure he could handle normal right away.
"If you kiss me again, I promise not to shout."
Post Never Again Mulder and Scully slowly bridge the distance between them during an intense case of missing teens and bonfires.
@mollybecameanengineer/Sareki's My Beloved (Tumblr)
He started to rise, to apologize and leave the room, but she stopped him. “What things?” she whispered. 
Her face was open, her eyes bright. She knew what he was going to say, and it didn’t look like she was afraid of it.
Post Kaddish Mulder can't sleep, slipping into Scully's motel room for a late-night conversation.
@tatooedlaura-blog/tatooedlaura/Laura Sprys's
Max 2.0
Once her forehead touched his, she whispered, “you are not Max. You have so many people here who love you and need you and you have so much to offer them back and you do. That’s the difference between you and Max. He searched for himself. You search for me, Mulder. You search,” kissing his forehead, then quickly his mouth, “for me.”
Post Max Mulder drives Scully out of the city where they stargaze while she tries to reassure and motivate him to keep fighting.
The Warmest Thing I Own
He saw her suddenly blink, head shake, both signs she was just waking up, “what? Mulder?”
Knowing she didn’t recall anything because there was no embarrassment turning her red, no heat in her cheeks, eyes innocently confused, “nothing...."
Cancer arc Mulder and Scully skip work, spending the day together as he prepares the best gourmet steak and mushrooms he can for her. (The sequels Fancy Paper Napkins, End of the Road, and Post Moments are excellent reads, too.)
Miles to Go
"Mulder ..."
"Yeah?"
"Smile."
The camera flashed in his face, "I think this one should be labeled 'Before'."
Mulder gulped down the last of his hot dog, "before what?"
"Before I kissed you."
Post FTF Mulder and Scully take the remains of their burnt office home, falling asleep and waking to a storm outside. Scully bucks the expected in a few unexpected ways.
206 Bones
Chocking up her growing feeling of dread to exhaustion, anger and lack of any type of proper vitamin or mineral, she helped her partner search, track and eventually corner Parsons in an abandoned building fifteen minutes away, half demolished and dangerous to any and all who set foot inside.
Only seconds before getting the final word to take the building, Scully’s fear got the better of her and she turned Mulder to face her, pulling him down to her....
Scully gives Mulder a good luck kiss before they attempt to flush their suspect from a rotten building... and ends up the one worse for wear.
Anne Haynes's (xf-redux.com)
Sonnet
The kiss was sweet. Simple. Breathtaking.
Redux II Mulder is afraid Scully is dying, at last, only for his world to be turned right-side up in a multitude of ways.
Package Deal (txt)
But she ran her thumb beneath his chin, tipping his head up, forcing him to meet her gaze. Her eyes spoke a thousand sweet promises and then there was no more hesitation, no lingering gaze, no more silent questions passed back and forth between them.
Post FTF Scully is overjoyed: she and Mulder are still partnered, their story was believed, and the files are getting expanded. So overjoyed, in fact, she moves their relationship to the next level.
nabokoves's Unwritten Hymns
She mumbled his name into his shoulder, foggy with confusion. She wanted to know if he was okay. He pulled back to look at her, struggling to find something to say. He brimmed with words so corny they would make even the poets puke.
Post Redux II Mulder may hate God-- chalking up Scully's remission to science instead of his angry prayers-- but he in no way hates God's believer, Scully.
@nowwhateinstein's (Ao3) Fic: Seeking Warmth/Seeking Warmth
I look at him. He’s regarding me with a gaze that is both familiar and thrilling. Tenderness and desire are present in his eyes. It’s the same look, I realize, he had moments before he went to kiss me in the hallway outside his apartment - a moment that seems like a lifetime ago. Then, I found myself hesitating, afraid to reciprocate his acknowledgement of a truth we’d both known. Now, however, in light of everything that’s happened in the past week, it seems like the most natural thing in the world to lean over and kiss him.
Post FTF Scully picks up where she and Mulder left off, despite her slowly recovering body and patched-up snowsuit.
@ghostbustermelanieking/skuls's ice crystals (Ao3)
He pulls her hand up and kisses the back of it in relief. Her forehead furrows and she pulls her hand out of his. Something inside him thunks. 
But the next thing he knows, she is leaning across the space between them and cupping her face in his.
Post Tithonus Mulder and Scully flesh out their frustrations and feelings as they (almost) freeze to death.
@purrykat/mylifeinshadow's
How about M&S in Boston
She joins you next to the desk, a murmured noise of acknowledgment at the ‘CANCELLED’ notice that appears next to your flight number. You brace yourself for thinly veiled frustration, but when you risk a glance, there’s a funny little twinkle in her eye instead. You’re instantly taken back to the week prior—
Post IVF Mulder mulls over the brief kiss Scully gave him after the procedure failed.
Sending you number 20 for the kiss prompts.
I think it’s safe to say that it’s not Skinner that I’m interested in.”
And there it is. You’ve been steadily climbing toward this moment for the better part of the month, neither willing to take that final leap. It’s as if the absence of height difference gives her a burst of confidence, even as it turns you into a fumbling idiot.
Mulder, very late for a meeting with Skinner, is intercepted on the stairway by Scully.
effywho's Astra Inclinant
"I say...I say we stop talking." Scully replies.
It's his turn to look down, crumbling. "Sure, I understand."
He feels her breath on his hair as she leans closer. "I'm not sure you do."
Post IVF Mulder is shocked by not only their success but also Scully's follow up after his declaration.
EvanBlack's WHITEOUT
'You have a beautiful face Mulder.'
...There was an awkward silence, then he shifted and propped his cheek on his hand.
'That's the Evening Blush talking Scully.' He smiled with his lips, but she could see his eyes were serious - and nervous.
His nerves gave her sudden courage. 
A plane crashes Mulder and Scully in the snowy mountains; and their petty squabbles become small in comparison to starvation, necessary cannibalism, and the increasing odds of death.
Xequinn's (Ao3) Playing Hookie
“Yeah let's do this” “On a count of three” she says” “One,” he responds On “Two” they adjust suddenly sweaty hands “Three!” Scully leaps off, pulling Mulder behind her
Scully has fun dragging Mulder around on her slightly manic beachside adventures.
The Trouble with Expectations - Chapter 1 (Tumblr)
“Scully of course I showed. Why did you think I hadn’t?” She didn’t answer. Just let more tears fall. He grabbed for her hand again, and she let him. “Scully I’ll always come get you”
She didn’t answer. Just lunged forward and grabbed his face and kissed him as hard as she could.
Scully, assuming Mulder forgot to pick her up from the airport, is heartbroken... until Mulder wanders over from the bathroom.
@this-is-surely-tru/yours_truly's If the Fates Allow
“Tactile evidence only increases the anticipation, Mulder. It doesn’t diminish it.”
The slightly concussed look on her partner’s face was undeniably adorable, and he shook his head slightly as if to clear it while they both relaxed again into the carriage seat. “Far be it from me to argue with that, Scully.”
Mulder, stuck in New York for Christmas, surprises his partner with a rented carriage ride; and she, in turn, surprises him as well.
@alabama-metal-man's Unnamed
 She pulls back, runs her hand along his cheek, and turns away to take a long drag of her coffee. She closes her eyes, sighing contentedly.
“What was that for?” She can hear the hint of teasing, the lingering smile.
Scully is having a rotten morning until Mulder remembers her coffee order.
@admiralty-xfd/admiralty's Up in your arms - Chapter 1
He stared at her with a look she couldn’t figure out, but it wasn’t a look that said don’t. It was the furthest thing from that look she could discern. So she leaned into him, all the way in, and she felt him inhale ever so slightly as she took the biggest risk of her life.
Post Closure Mulder contemplates his new life. Scully answers at least one question for him.
And just for fun, I grabbed a few of my baronessblixen rereads:
@baronessblixen‘s (Ao3) 
Temporary Insanity (Ao3)
How many times has she cheated death this year? Two times? Three? She’s come so close that she’s stopped counting. Every time, she just picked herself up, bought a new blouse if it was torn or bloody, threw away shoes that weren’t as lucky as she was, and calmed herself down when a nightmare tried to take her under. She’s done. She feels it in her fingertips. She feels it like a current running through her body. She needs something. Something to make her feel alive.
Paper Clip Scully is spurned by her anger into more-than-professional overtures.
The Day After (Ao3)
“Kiss and make up?” Mulder says with a grin, biting his bottom lip. He at least has to try. Scully stares at him for a moment, the way she sometimes does before she tells him how crazy he is. He knows that look. But this time it’s different. 
Wetwired Mulder and Scully's discussion leads to decisive action on her part.
Never Cold With You By My Side
Feeling bold, she lets her hand wander behind his neck to play with the hair there. If he doesn’t want this – her – he can stop her before this even starts. But he doesn’t. So she pulls him to her, pressing her lips to his.
One Son Mulder and Scully spend the night locked up in Fort Marlene while she is hurt, jealous, and angry.
Dreams Are Made of This
Scully gets on her tiptoes and kisses Mulder. On the lips, just like that. Just like she’s been thinking about. It’s a quick kiss, but thorough. Like you’d kiss your husband. The person you love. All those thoughts fly through her head as she steps out the door. She stops there, realizing what she just did.
Scully, in the midst of a hopeful IVF daydream, accidentally kisses Mulder.
Five Minutes - Chapter 2 (Tumblr)
He returns with them, one in each hand, and when Scully reaches out to take hers, he shakes his head. Seeing him like this, her knight in crinkled Armani, his hands full, she can’t wait another second. She gets on tiptoes, careful not to topple over, and presses her lips to his. He tastes like coffee and the chocolate chip cookie they shared on the plane. They’ve waited long enough for this.
“We have?” Mulder, his eyes glazed over, grinning stupidly, sounds amused.
Will never not include this post IVF success story.
Candlelight Moments With You
You look like you're gonna faint. Eat something." She holds a chip up to his mouth and he accepts it, his lips closing over her finger. He can't tell what flavor the chips are, but he knows he wants more.
"More?" he asks in a whisper. She smiles at him and nods. But he doesn't get another chip. Instead, he gets a kiss.
Mulder tries to give Scully a good enough Christmas while both are practically stranded in a motel.
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goodlucktai · 1 year ago
Note
Ooh would you write a sequel to the one where Luffy tells the crew about Sabo and paints their flag, then Robin goes and calls Sabo to come n visit them??? 💕
sequel to this
x
Luffy is holding his hand so hard it’s beginning to hurt, but it doesn’t even cross Usopp’s mind to let go. 
The man who boards them looks nothing like Luffy, or even Usopp’s memories of Ace. He’s very pale and fair-haired, with a graceful, willowy sort of frame that Usopp’s storyteller mind leaps to associate with princes and castles. 
The man looks extremely nervous. He holds himself absolutely still with picture-perfect posture, like it was something drilled into him at a young age. Once his eyes find Luffy, they don’t look anywhere else. 
He came alone. The solitary figure he strikes on the opposite side of the deck tugs at Usopp’s heart. 
Robin makes a disapproving sound under her breath when he stays rooted where he’s at and strides across the grass to meet him. 
“Sabo,” she greets him, holding out her hands. He seizes them with equal parts gratitude and desperation but he still doesn’t look at her.
Next to him, clustered as close as they are together, Usopp feels the jolt go through Luffy like a surge of electricity. 
It was the name, Usopp thinks. None of them have said it out loud since that shocking conversation with Robin, which Luffy had absorbed without speaking for four very long minutes before bolting from the room to hide with Sunny on the figurehead for the rest of the afternoon. 
Usopp tries to imagine being told his mother was alive, after growing up and apart from her for half his life. He tries to imagine the shock and disbelief, and how it would fold slowly into reluctant hope, and how much it would hurt to claw open a wound that’s ten years healed and how ready he would be to do exactly that if there was even a chance he might see her again. 
Luffy lost Ace two years ago. It happened right in front of him. It happened in the worst, most traumatizing way it possibly could have. And it happened when his crew had been forced apart and flung to the far corners of the world and he was left to bear that impossible grief all alone. 
Take care of him for me, Ace had said, smiling with his teeth beneath an unrelenting desert sun, all reds and golds and warmth. 
Usopp holds Luffy’s hand tighter, the rubber skin and bones compressing in a familiar way beneath the unrelenting grip of his fingers. 
The morning after The Conversation With Robin, all of them packed around a breakfast table laden with hearty biscuits and gravy, strip steak and eggs, and cinnamon rolls the size of their heads—Sanji’s unspoken spoiling of their captain after the previous afternoon’s bombshell; he even let Luffy try his coffee, which never fucking happens. They were all poised to do and say and be exactly what their captain needed, if he’d only give them a cue. 
Luffy, for his part, breezed into the galley bright and early, like it was any other day, and he hadn't spent all of last night all by himself. He called out cheerful greetings, tussled playfully with Zoro, fought with Franky over the spicy potato hash, filled his plate, and then, in the red flag of all red flags, ate exactly zero bites of food before turning to Robin. 
“Hey, Robin,” he said, “why didn’t Sabo come find me?”
The only sound in the kitchen was the unobtrusive steaming from the medley of pans on the stovetop and the sharp clunk of the glass Nami accidentally set down too hard.
Robin smiled at Luffy, the special way she smiled that was reserved solely for him. She grew an extra hand and nudged his plate towards him.
“I told you, captain,” she said. “He had amnesia. The only thing he remembered from his childhood was his desperation not to return to Goa Kingdom.”
“Retrograde amnesia is a medical condition,” Chopper piped up, desperate to be helpful. He’d been on the edge of his seat all morning, ready to fly to Luffy at the first tiniest indication that he should. “Several different things can cause it, like disease or injury, but it sounds like S—like his memory loss was probably caused by trauma.”
“Yeah,” Luffy said easily, accepting what they told him without question. He scooted food around on his otherwise untouched plate, expression giving nothing away. “But after that. Robin said that seeing Ace in the newspaper made him remember. That was two years ago.”
Dread sank in Usopp’s stomach like a stone. He glanced quickly around the table and found his friends’ faces mirroring what his own probably looked like. 
“He didn’t come find me,” Luffy said. “Does he hate me?”
“No,” Zoro said at once, his tone a guarantee that it would be the last thing Sabo ever did if it was true.
“Why would you think that?” Sanji forced out between gritted teeth. 
“Because I let Ace die,” their captain said frankly. “He was right in front of me and I couldn't save him. Now Sabo doesn’t want to see me.”
Everyone started talking at once, and Chopper upset his apple juice in his scramble to finally fling himself into Luffy’s arms, and Usopp decided that getting his ass beat by Mr. 4 and Miss Christmas hurt a hell of a lot less than this. 
Robin rose gracefully and rounded the table. An extra arm bloomed out of the table to grip the back of Luffy’s chair and wrench it around, facing it towards her.
She kneeled and took his hands, and then her wrists grew hands so that she could hold Chopper’s little hooves too. But her eyes were all for Luffy when she said, “He loves you. He’s making a better world for you.”
Luffy stared back at her and finally his blank expression cracked. His mouth twisted a little, brows furrowing above shiny brown eyes. 
“Then why didn’t he come?” 
“Because despite your separation, you two are more alike than anyone could have guessed,” Robin said warmly. “And he’s afraid you hate him, too.”
And now they’re both here, standing beneath the cloudy sky, and Luffy—wild, relentless, unassuming Luffy—doesn’t seem to know what to do. He’s always the one who makes the first move, who barrels right in with a noisy laugh, but instead he just clutches at Usopp’s hand and presses his opposite shoulder into Zoro’s and drinks in the sight of the man across the deck. 
Studying him, Usopp realizes. Recognizing him.  
Then Luffy blinks, and the wetness in his eyes falls down his cheeks, and the blond man jerks like he’s been punched in the gut. 
“I, um,” he says, digging hastily into one of his inner coat pockets, “I brought you something.” 
He tosses the gift over and Luffy lets go of Usopp’s hand to catch it. It turns out to be an old brass monocular telescope, shining dully in Luffy’s hands. Worn and scuffed in quite a few places, easily decades old. Luffy studies it very quietly. 
“All of my things were lost when my ship was shot down,” the man says. “Nothing could be salvaged. But that was in my pocket. It must have been important if it was the only thing I was carrying with me, so I kept it all these years.”
He tries on a smile. It pulls at the side of his face discolored and puckered by burn scars. It seems like a miracle he’s standing there and smiling at all. 
“You wanted a telescope when we were kids, remember? I finally brought you one. I’m sorry it took me so long.”
“Sabo took forever,” Luffy says. He sounds young. 
It’s the way he sounded in Alabasta, when Ace showed up and interjected himself in the chase between the Straw Hats and Smoker’s men—like it was his body’s natural response to plant itself like a tree between Luffy and whatever danger was behind him. Luffy ran away laughing, bright and untroubled and certain of his safety. 
Peak little sibling energy, Usopp had later thought wryly. It explained so much of who his captain was as a person to know he was the baby of his family of monsters and mad men. 
Luffy sounds that way now, his face all screwed up, blotchy and streaked with tears. 
“He took forever,” he says again, emphatic and bewildered and hurt. “I missed him so much and he was too busy being stupid to come tell me he’s alive. I thought—”
Robin steps out of the way in time to avoid being trampled when their guest moves the way a missile shot from a cannon moves. Luffy lurches forward, too, but he doesn’t have time to make it a single step before he’s being snatched up in bigger arms and hauled into an embrace that looks like it might leave a bruise. One gloved hand on the back of Luffy’s head cradles it against a broad shoulder and the other grips the back of Luffy’s jacket hard enough it starts to tear. 
“Robin told me,” the man gasps, like he’s not getting enough air. “I don’t hate you, how could I hate you? You’re my brother. I’m so—I’m so grateful you survived, Lu. I don’t know what I would have done if you—if—” 
He can’t say it, can’t speak the words into existence, as if the world would be a dark, unlivable place if Luffy weren’t in it. In that instant, Usopp understands this stranger completely. 
Sabo pulls back, but only so he can hold Luffy’s head in his hands. Luffy goes on tiptoe to knock their foreheads together, a gesture Usopp has seen him do with his nakama, and always chalked up to Luffy’s weird feral energy. It’s a gesture that makes Sabo’s next breath sound like a sob. Or maybe a laugh. 
Luffy laughs with him, wet and choked. Neither of them are self-conscious about the state of themselves. They sit right there, a graceless collapse into the warm grass, somewhat on top of each other like clumsy, half-grown wolf cubs. 
Usopp feels a weight lifted. He thinks he must be smiling like an absolute idiot and his own eyes are definitely damp, but he’s unselfconscious, too. A person learns a thing or two about what appearances actually matter, sailing with this crew. And tears come easily when you live honestly, the way Luffy always has. 
He’s rattling at a million words a minute now, speaking in an Eastern language Usopp is unfamiliar with—probably a regional dialect from the island he grew up on.
Sabo follows along effortlessly, interjecting now and then in the same language, but content, for the most part, just to listen to his little brother talk.
He absorbs every second of Luffy’s presence the same needy way plants unfurl to soak up sunlight. 
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bluesylveon2 · 1 year ago
Text
Rumors
Summary: Leona is used to people talking about him. Yuu must believe the rumors, right?
Word Count: 1.3k
Note: sequel to “Love at First Fight,” royal au, fluff, light angst, cameos for a future fic
Warning: fem Yuu reader, not beta read, and possible ooc characters
Masterlist: here, Series Masterlist: here
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"I wonder why the King agreed to this?"
"Did you hear? Prince Leona once murdered someone with his magic?"
"I hear the Princess has been avoiding Leona lately. She must believe the rumors too…"
"If only he was like his brother."
Whispers.
All Leona heard were whispers no matter where he was. 
Leona had heard it all of his life, and he grew used to it. He knew there was no way he could be king.  Leona did not blame the Princess for not wanting to interact with him. She must have seen herself as his key to becoming a king. Yuu's interactions with him were kept to a minimum if they were obligated to be in the same room.
Leona made his way to the garden, the same garden where he met Yuu, ready to rest under a tree with a pillow and some snacks on the side. He honestly had a small hope that Yuu, the woman he arranged to marry, would see him differently and not what he was known for. He remembered when they first met and how she caught him off guard. He never expected her to have similar strength as the women back home. 
Leona respected that. Too bad the feeling was not mutual. That was when he made his decision. 
If Yuu chose not to get close to him, he would honor that, even if it hurt him. He would not force her to initiate things with him when it was his brother's and her father's choice to be stuck with him. 
Despite that, Leona at least tried to be with Yuu indirectly. Sometimes, he noticed how stressed she looked, so he convinced the King that he would handle her duties for her to give her a day off. Other times, a gift would "magically" appear in the air when Yuu felt down that day, making Yuu smile again.
If Yuu smiled, then Leona would be content with it. 
He can spend the rest of his time giving up on the hope he had and break the engagement later on. Yuu deserved to be with someone she loved. His unrequited crush did not matter. 
It was better to break the plant by the bud. 
Leona navigated his way through the quiet garden with Yuu in his mind. He was not worthy to stand beside her. Yuu would be a good queen, and he saw so much potential in her. Her kindness, strength, and wisdom would make her kingdom flourish. Leona sighed as his eyes landed on his favorite tree. 
He must be hallucinating because he could swear Yuu was currently napping in his spot. 
She looked peaceful, like she would not be a queen one day. Her face was relaxed, and her breathing was rhythmic. She lay on a blanket, and a medium-sized basket was nearby. Yuu stirred as if she sensed Leona nearby. 
"There you are. I've been looking all over for you." Yuu said while rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. 
Leona leaned against the tree. "How did you know I would be here?" he raised a brow. 
Yuu gave Leona a look that explained it all. Leona's eyes widened a fraction, and he knew. Oh, he figured it out.
Yuu giggled at his reaction, her eyes filled with glee. "You should be lying on a blanket and not the grass. Plus, you deserve to eat something after going out of your way to ensure I'm well."
Leona smirked. "Well, aren't you a smart herbivore?"
"Thanks. A future queen has to be. That reminds me." Yuu shifted to grab the basket and placed it in front of her. "I know our first few interactions were rough, and I apologize. This is my peace offering to you." Yuu opened it, and Leona's eyes widened.
"No way…" His eyes landed on a beautiful steak that made his mouth water.
"It is. This steak is very rare. The cattle it comes from can only be found in a village hidden in the Shaftlands. Only a few people can get their hands on it. Luckily, I knew someone with enough connections to get me one."
Leona could smell the steam coming out of it. And the juiciness from where he stood. The meat itself looked medium rare, just the way Leona liked it. "Did you wait long for me?"
Yuu shook her head and looked at Leona with earnest eyes. "Not really, but the weather is so nice today that I could not help closing my eyes." she laughed, warming Leona's heart as he watched her smile.
"Well, I don't want your gift to go to waste." Leona sat down beside Yuu as she unpacked the basket. Yuu placed two plates, utensils, snacks, and drinks out for Leona. Leona said as he picked up the meat. After opening it, he grabbed a fork and a knife to cut it into small pieces. He picked up one piece and held it up to Yuu. "Eat." 
Yuu blushed, but her heart raced at the gesture. "This is for you. You should have the first bite."
Leona's mouth curled up slightly. "And when was the last time you ate?"
Yuu rolled her eyes. "You got me." She leaned forward and ate her share. Leona watched her face melt as he began to eat, too. "This is really good," Yuu said as she grabbed another bite, but Leona beat her to it by holding it out again. 
"Let me feed you, herbivore."
Yuu blushed and accepted the food right away. "Just this once because I'm feeling generous." 
Leona smiled victoriously as he and Yuu continued their meal. The two made some small talk but spent most of their time enjoying the cool breeze blowing around them. 
It felt nice, and they both felt like ordinary people. Not royals who will be married soon. 
"The meat was good, but I am tired." Yuu yawned as Leona packed up their things back in the basket. She lay down on the ground and closed her eyes. 
"You can sleep here then. I can do some things for you back in the castle." Leona began to stand up until something grabbed his arm and pulled him down. His back landed on the blanket, and Yuu wrapped her arms around him. 
"Sleep with me. My father would not mind us missing for a day." Yuu mumbled and laid her head on Leona's chest. 
Leona blushed as Yuu succumbed to her drowsiness. With strength like that to pull the prince of Sunset Savanna down, Yuu must have come from there in her past life. There was no way he could leave with Yuu's grip on him. Leona sighed and closed his eyes, succumbing to feeling loved by the woman who refused to let him go. 
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Meanwhile
"Ah, young love! Merveilleux! Magnifique!" A blonde-haired, green-eyed hunter swooned while watching the sleeping couple from his spot on the tree.
A lavender-haired boy sighed at the tree's base. "Can we leave now? I want to eat our share of the steak."
"Hush, Epel. You can get some after your lessons." Another blonde said, scolding the boy. He briefly frowned as he watched his friend sleep beside the infamous prince and ignore the other boy's muttering. He needed to address that in his next lesson. 
"I don't understand what Yuu sees in him. She used to dislike him, and now she is bugging me to get a steak for her. She deserves more than that potato."
The hunter jumped and gracefully landed next to the man. "It is her love for him, Roi du Poison. It grew with time."
"Maybe…"
The hunter chuckled knowingly. "You'll understand when you find a femme one day."
The man scoffed. "That won't happen to me. Not with these women throwing themselves at me for a title." He turned to Epel. "Come, Epel, let's go back to the carriage." The man walked away with Epel following behind. 
Meanwhile, the hunter watched his friend and smiled at the sleeping couple before leaving, "You never know, Roi du Poison. Love can come to you unexpectedly."
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©: These stories belongs to bluesylveon2 2020-23. DO NOT modify, republish, or plagiarize my work.
Disclaimer: I do not own Twisted Wonderland and its characters. Those belong to Aniplex, Walt Disney Japan, and Yana Toboso.
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atomicladytimetravel · 1 year ago
Text
Look at You
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Sequel to Look at Me
Summary: No outbreak au. Joel invites you over for dinner at his place and filth ensues. Basically just porn with a little plot. 18+ ONLY. MDNI. Technically could be read stand alone.
Slight exhibitionism, unprotected p in v, creampie, multiple orgasms (f), oral sex (m and f receiving), Joel being an absolute sweetheart.
Word count: 3,067
It was a couple of weeks before you would see Joel again. He was booked solid with clients, having to fit people in over the weekends to make it work. He promised that when he was free again, he would make you the best steak dinner you’d ever had. You texted and talked on the phone frequently and Joel quickly became one of your favorite people.
When the time finally came for the date, you weren’t nervous at all. You were just excited to see him again. You put on a simple skater dress with thin straps and a neckline that worked wonders for your cleavage and made the trip to Joel’s house. You knocked on his front door and smoothed the front of your dress down as you waited for him to answer. He let out a low whistle upon seeing you.
“Whoa, look at you. You look amazing.”
You smiled shyly and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Thank you Joel.”
He ushered you inside and straight to the dinner table where everything was already set out and ready. It smelled incredible and he was right - it was the best steak dinner you’d ever had.
After dinner, you sat looking out the window as Joel cleared the table. The sun was setting, painting the sky with various shades of pink, blue and purple. You stepped out onto the deck for a better view, leaning on the railing with your elbows. Joel came out a few minutes later and you turned to him with a smile.
“Whatcha doin’, beautiful?” he asked. He put his hands on the railing on either side of you and rested his chin on your shoulder.
“Just looking at the sunset. It’s especially beautiful today,” you replied. He nuzzled your hair and put his lips to your ear.
“Not nearly as beautiful as you,” he said in a low voice. He moved your hair to the side and softly kissed your neck. You tilted your head and let out a soft “hmmm” as he continued peppering kisses on your skin. You turned to face him and he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you flush to his chest. He put his other hand on the side of your neck, his thumb gently caressing your jawline. He captured your lips in a tender kiss.
The way he touched you, the way he kissed you - it all felt so erotic that you couldn’t help but whimper. That only spurred him on and the kiss deepened, going from a tender kiss to a full blown make out session. His fingers tangled in your hair and he tugged, exposing your throat to him. You gasped, partially surprised and partially turned on.
“Shit, did I hurt you?” he asked, releasing his grip on your hair and looking at you with a concerned expression.
“No, sorry…just surprised me. It was hot, do it again.”
He smirked and repeated the action, kissing and nipping at the skin of your throat.
“You like that, huh? Like it when I’m rough?” he teased between kisses.
“Yes sir,” you breathed.
“Oh, good girl. You know who’s in charge, don’t you?”
“Y-yes sir,” you repeated.
“Good,” he said. His kisses moved out to your shoulder and he pushed the strap of your dress down your arm. He did the same on the other side so that the top of your dress was just barely covering your breasts. He hooked his finger in the neckline of the dress and toyed with the fabric.
“I haven’t gotten to see these yet. May I?”
You nodded and he pulled your dress down over your breasts. He groaned when they sprang free of the fabric. He cupped them in his hands and swiped his thumb over your nipples.
“Fuck, look at these gorgeous tits.”
He rolled your nipples between his fingers and a breathy moan escaped your lips. He kissed you again, one hand reaching around to squeeze your ass, the other massaging your breast.
“God I wanna go down on you so bad,” he said against your lips. “Taste that pretty pussy.” Kiss. “Make you cum with my tongue.” Kiss. “Would you like that pretty girl?”
“God yes.”
He grinned and kissed you one last time before getting to his knees in front of you.
“Out here?” you giggled.
“No one will see, don’t worry,” he assured you. He bunched your dress up around your waist and instructed you to hold it there. With his hands on your hips, he pressed soft kisses down your abdomen.
“Look at these panties,” he said, referring to the wet spot darkening the front of them. “So fucking wet for me already.”
He slowly drug your panties down your legs and when you stepped out of them, he stuffed them in his pocket. He grabbed your ankle and lifted your leg to rest it on his shoulder; you leaned back against the railing for support. He kissed the sensitive parts of your inner thigh and you tingled with desire, a tiny whimper of his name falling from your lips.
“What is it beautiful? Tell me what you want.”
“Your mouth…on me. Please,” you begged.
“Aw, baby, look at you - desperate to be touched.”
“Only by you.”
“That’s fucking right princess, only me. Such a good girl.”
With that, he licked a stripe up your slit and you shuddered at the sensation. He wrapped his arm around the leg on his shoulder to hold you in place as he buried his face in your pussy. His tongue circled your clit before prodding your hole and coming back to repeat the process.
“Joel, that feels s-so fucking good,” you moaned. His tongue flicked over your clit repeatedly and you cried out much louder than you should have. Neither of you cared. He wanted to make you scream, to let his neighbors know just how good he was making the prettiest girl he’d ever seen feel.
He swirled the tip of his tongue around your clit until your thighs were shaking and you were a moaning mess above him. Nobody had ever gone down on you this good before. Your hand gripped the railing beneath you so hard you thought it might splinter. You looked down to see him palming his hard on through his jeans as he moaned into your center.
“Oh god…eating pussy turns you on huh?”
“Mhmm,” he mumbled. “‘Specially this one.”
Whatever cheeky remark you had equipped left your brain when he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked. Your orgasm was approaching rapidly and you begged him not to stop what he was doing. He complied eagerly, ready to hear the sound of you cumming for him.
“Fff-fucking hell Joel, I’m cumming,” you announced. He kept your clit sucked into his mouth as you orgasmed hard. He kept sucking until you were cumming a second time. You grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged when you became sensitive, but he didn’t stop. He wanted to see how far he could push you.
“Oh god, J-Joel…’s too much…”
And then it wasn’t. Your third orgasm was so powerful, you had to clap your hand over your mouth to muffle the cries of his name. When he finally released your clit, your thighs were trembling. He gently lowered your leg and got back to his feet.
“You did so good f’me baby,” he praised, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Will you let me take you to bed, princess? Just wanna keep making you feel good.”
“Yes please,” you nodded, practically melting at his words. He took your hand and led you through the house to his bedroom. He helped you out of your dress and stood back, taking in your fully nude form for the first time.
“My god…you’re so beautiful. A fucking goddess.”
You blushed and looked away shyly. You had your insecurities, just like everyone else. On top of that, your ex-husband’s affair had given you the impression that there was always going to be someone prettier, someone better than you.
“C’mon Joel, I’m not - “
He cut you off before you could finish.
“Don’t you dare. You’re the most beautiful god damn woman I’ve ever seen. I’m not just saying that, I mean it.”
He closed the gap between you and kissed you tenderly.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you after what happened at your cousin’s. Why do you think I asked you out? The sex we had was great, yeah, but it’s not about that. If you asked me to stop right now, I would. And we would do whatever you wanted to.”
You wanted to cry. Joel was different. Even in the beginning stages of your relationship with your ex, he was never this kind. He wrapped you in a tight hug, your head pressed to his chest.
“Thank you, Joel,” you whispered. You looked up to meet his eyes. “But if you stop, I will kill you.”
He laughed and kissed the top of your head.
“Yeah baby? You still want me to make your pretty pussy feel good?”
“Yes sir,” you replied, dragging his shirt up over his head. It was your turn to admire him. His arms were muscular and his abdomen was mostly toned except for a little softness. A trail of dark hair disappeared into his jeans. You kissed his collar bones while looking up to make eye contact with him.
“You’re so fucking hot,” you said. You kissed down his body as you got to your knees in front of him. You started to undo his belt, but he put a hand over yours.
“You don’t have to,” he told you.
“Joel, I’m good at this,” you bragged. “Just let me suck your cock.”
He didn’t protest (how could he?) and you continued unbuckling his belt. He looked painfully hard when his cock sprang free of its confines. You looked up at him through your lashes and kissed his tip before running the tip of your tongue along the underside of his cock, causing him to suck in a breath. He was big, but you could take it. You gently suckled at the head a few times before sucking him nearly all the way in.
“Holy hell,” he moaned, his hand flying to the back of your head. You relaxed your throat and took him the rest of the way, your nose touching his pubic area.
“Oh fuck baby girl. Doing so good, got all of my cock in that pretty mouth.”
You hummed around him and bobbed your head back and forth, pulling almost all the way off before plunging him back down your throat.
“God damn, you really are good at this,” he complimented. You reached up and rolled his balls in your hand and he made a strangled “nggh” sound.
“Baby…oh fuck…baby you gotta s-stop,” he said, tugging at your hair. “Gonna make me cum quick with that mouth and I’d rather cum in your pussy.”
You pulled off him with an obscene “pop”, a string of saliva connecting his tip to your lips. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and he helped you stand up. He took your hand and led you to the armchair in the corner of the room; he sat and patted his thighs.
“C’mere pretty girl.”
You sat with your back against his chest and your legs spread on either side of his knees. He slid his hand down your body, teasing your clit with one finger.
“I just wanna play with it some more before I fuck you.” He kissed your neck, using his free hand to knead your breast. “I wanna take my time with you, make you cum over and over. Will you let me do that baby girl?”
“Yes sir, please,” you begged. He dipped his finger into your hole and drug it back up to your clit, using your arousal as lube to rub big, slow circles. You let your head fall back onto his shoulder, a satisfied sigh falling from your lips.
“It feels so good when you touch me,” you whispered softly, pressing a kiss to his jawline.
“Yeah? You like it when I touch you like this huh?” His lips were next to your ear, his voice going down an octave.
“Yes,” you whimpered. “God yes.”
He slid his middle and ring finger into you, then slowly pulled them out to rub your clit. He repeated this several times, tiny whimpers and breathy moans leaving your mouth.
“Please…n-need to cum. Please make me cum,” you begged.
“Shhhh,” he whispered in your ear. “I’ve got you baby. I’m gonna let you cum.”
He began to finger you slowly, curling his fingers with every thrust.
“Fuck…Joel, I’m so close.”
“Let it go for me baby. Lemme hear you,” he said, moving his fingers in and out at a much quicker pace.
“Oh, fuck!” you cried out, your hips rising. “I’m cumming so hard.”
“That’s it baby girl, cum all over my fingers.”
Just as he had been with his tongue, he was relentless with his fingers. He didn’t stop once you’d come down from your orgasm. He continued to finger fuck you until you came a second time, crying out his name. He pulled his fingers out and put them to your lips. You opened your mouth and sucked your juices off his finger, making him groan.
“I can’t take it anymore, sit on my fuckin’ cock baby girl. I gotta be in that pretty pussy.”
You stood and he opened his legs so that you could stand between them. He lined himself up with your hole and you sank down onto him slowly. He put his hands on your hips, guiding you as you bounced on him.
“Fffuuuck, I missed being in you. Thought about this pussy while I fucked my fist in the shower almost every night.”
“Oh my god Joel,” you mewled. No one had ever worshipped you like that before. It was sweet and erotic at the same time. “You feel so fucking good.”
“Mmm, fuck, so do you baby. Pussy’s so fuckin’ tight f’me.”
One hand reached up to tweak your nipple, the other going between your legs to rub your clit. You began bouncing harder, chasing the release that was approaching quicker than you expected. Joel knew exactly what to do - and what to say - to get you off in record time.
“I want you to cum for me baby girl, then you’re gonna get on that bed and I’ll fuck you so good,” he said in your ear.
“Oh god, Joel, I’m right there. S-so close,” you panted. He rubbed your clit furiously and you fell over the edge, white knuckling the arms of the chair.
“Joel, fuck, so - fuck! - so good!”
As you came down, Joel was kissing your shoulder and rubbing your hips with his thumbs.
“Did so good baby. Go lie down on the bed.”
You stood on wobbly legs and giggled. Your ex may have been good but he wasn’t jelly legs good.
“No one has ever fucked me so good that my legs shook,” you told Joel.
“Just you wait,” he smirked. You laid down and he grabbed a pillow.
“Ass up for me doll,” he instructed. You lifted your hips and he stuffed the pillow underneath you before pulling you to the edge of the bed. He stood between your legs and teased your clit with the tip of his cock.
“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty baby.”
Before you could respond, he slid his cock into you slowly, pushing all the way to the hilt. The pillow underneath provided the perfect angle for his cock to immediately find your g-spot. You gasped in pleasure and he pulled almost all the way out, pushing back into you as slowly as he had the first time. He repeated this a few more times, making you a whimpering, whining mess.
“Look at you princess, your pussy is just cryin’ for my cock. She’s so fuckin’ wet.” He hooked his arms in the crooks of your legs and abandoned his slow pace for a more steady one. He was hitting your g-spot repeatedly and you were not going to last long.
“Shit Joel, you’re gonna make me cum again.”
“Do it baby, give me another,” he grunted. He thrust harder and you saw stars as you came around him once, and then twice as he continued to pound into your g-spot. You shouted his name, fingers digging into the sheets.
“Fuck, I just came twice in a row.”
“Let’s see if we can make it three,” he grinned. He put his thumb to your clit, rubbing in time with his thrusts and it wasn’t long before number three hit you. Your legs were really trembling now.
“Holy shit, I’m cumming so fucking hard. You’re making my pussy feel so fucking good.”
“Oh fuck yeah pretty girl. Gonna make me blow my load in your pussy.”
“Oh god…give it to me baby, wanna be so full of your cum.”
“Yeah? You wanna be stuffed with my cum? “
He was pounding into you relentlessly and you saw stars when a fourth orgasm overtook you. You were wailing and clawing at the sheets and Joel was right behind you, stilling his hips as he drained his cock inside you. A growl rumbled in his chest as he held you in place, his cock twitching inside you. When he pulled out, he spread your pussy lips to admire his work.
“That’s a real pretty picture right there,” he said. “Pussy’s all pink and puffy with my cum dripping out.”
You giggled, still trying to catch your breath.
“Holy shit, I think I came like ten times,” you noted. “I didn’t even know I could do that.”
“I just like to watch you cum,” he winked. He took your hand and helped you stand up.
“Let’s go get cleaned up, shall we? I can run us a nice bath.”
“That would be nice,” you replied.
Your legs were weak and you leaned onto him for support, which made him laugh a little.
“Shut up,” you said, though you smiled at him. “This is your fault.”
“Didn’t hear you complaining a minute ago,” he quipped. You grinned and cut your eyes at him.
“Touché.”
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tozettastone · 3 months ago
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I just had someone comment to me "I haven't read the other fic yet (I was sneaking glances at work and decided to start with the smaller one first)" in a comment. I'm losing my mind.
It's not "the other fic." They just started with a sequel on purpose?? And then they started with "even without context..."
Wow, imagine if someone had just provided all that context somehow. Say, in the... first fic in the series? Perhaps?
Absolutely unhinged. I think this person might also be someone who tries to cut their steak once it's already in their mouth, honestly. "Even with all the blood the steak still tastes good!" Yeah, imagine if we had ever... uh... invented an alternative...
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brightlight-dazzlingeyes · 10 months ago
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i found you | rúben dias
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💘 synopsis: it's rúben's and isabella's first valentine's day together. warnings: fluff and gratuitous valentine-cute-themed smut becasue why not. (can be read as x reader cause i forgot to mention the oc name in the story) (this is a sequel to between the lines, but can be read as a standalone; since there's no actual smut in the original story, i figured i should give my oc a nice epilogue) (W.C. 1.5K)
Once upon a time, I was convinced that romantic love was nothing more than an annoying distraction. It was like a stubborn pebble in my shoe, constantly irritating me and diverting my focus from what truly mattered.
With great ambitions driving me forward, I embraced the life of a workaholic sports journalist. I'd dreamed of this career for as long as I could remember, and I was determined to make it to the top. Nothing and no one could derail the carefully plotted course I had set for myself. Or so I thought.
But then, love snuck up on me when I least expected it, turning my world upside down. I found myself falling for someone who challenged my carefully constructed plans and made me question everything I thought I knew about myself. And as much as I tried to resist, I couldn't deny the magnetic pull drawing me closer to him.
As Valentine's Day approached, I reflected on how much had changed since that time when I thought love was nothing but a nuisance. Now, it is the very thing that brings color to my life. 
And as I prepared for a romantic dinner with the person who had stolen my heart, I felt nothing but gratefulness for the delightful chaos he had brought into my life.
We stepped into a cozy restaurant, the aroma of delicious food enveloped us, and I felt a flutter of excitement in my stomach. Valentine's Day dinner with Rúben – it is still surreal, like something out of a cheesy rom-com.
We plopped down at our table, and Rúben dove into the menu like it was a puzzle. Couldn't help but poke fun at him.
"Can't make up your mind, huh? Let me guess, torn between the steak and the seafood pasta." I teased, a smirk playing on my lips.
He glanced up, "Actually, I was thinking of going all in and ordering the entire dessert menu. You know, for research." He joked, his laughter contagious.
After dinner and a couple drinks, we decided to head back to Rúben's place. As we walked out of the restaurant, the crisp evening air hit us. We strolled side by side, our steps matching in rhythm, exchanging playful banter along the way. 
Eventually, we reached Rúben's apartment building, and he held the door open for me with a charming smile. I followed him inside. As we stepped into the elevator, the atmosphere shifted, a sense of excitement mingled with nerves. Our eyes met, and in that silent exchange, we both knew what was coming next.
The elevator ride felt like it lasted an eternity, the anticipation building with each passing floor. And when we finally reached Rúben's floor, the door to his apartment swung open, and we stepped inside. 
We stood there for a moment, taking in the scene before us, the air thick with anticipation. And as Rúben turned to face me, his eyes sparkling with desire, I knew that this was where I was meant to be.
"I'm so happy." He whispered, his voice barely above a breath.
"Yeah?" I replied, a smile spreading across my face. "Well, there are plenty of ways you can show me just how happy."
"I'll do my best." He answered, his eyes twinkling with excitement as he leaned in and planted a tender kiss on my forehead.
His touch sent a shiver down my spine, igniting a fire of desire within me. I nodded, unable to find the words to express the storm of emotions raging inside me. 
The atmosphere was charged with electricity, every glance and touch sending jolts of excitement through my veins. Rúben's eyes sparkled with desire as he guided me further into the room, his hand warm against mine. Our lips met in a passionate kiss, igniting a fire between us. We lost ourselves in each other's embrace. This was where I belonged – in Rúben's arms, surrounded by love and desire.
We surrendered to the intensity of our connection. Rúben's hands moved with purpose, exploring every inch of my body as if committing it to memory, each touch igniting a new wave of desire within me.
With practiced ease, he lifted me off my feet, his strong arms holding me close as he carried me towards the bedroom. I wrapped my arms around his neck, lost in the sensation of being so close to him, my heart racing with anticipation.
As he gently lowered me onto the bed, our eyes locked in a silent promise of passion and devotion.
His kisses became more intense, I could hear the rhythm of his breathing growing more rapid. His fingers curled around my hips, pulling me closer, pushing me further onto him. I whimpered as pleasure surged through me.
His hands continued their journey southward, tracing the curves of my body with skillful precision. The look in his eyes told me he was feeling the same wild need I was.
I arched my back, grinding my hips against him, letting him feel my desire. And the sensations only intensified as he teased my clit with his tongue, coaxing it into bloom. With every touch, with my body under his mercy, the room around me began to spin.
He parted my legs with his knee and buried his face between them, moaning as he kissed my inner thighs. In that moment I realized I could reach orgasm with just his lips caressing my most intimate flesh. I lost control. I cried out as ecstasy overwhelmed me.
Without warning, his mouth descended on mine again, seeking out the sweetness of my lips, inserting one finger inside of me. Then another one. I cried out in delight, pushing myself deeper onto his digits. His fingers worked relentlessly at their task. I let go of my inhibitions and gave myself over to his expert ministrations, gasping as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through me.
Finally, after several moments of total bliss, I collapsed under him, breathless and spent.
He pulled away and smiled, cupping my cheek tenderly, gazing deeply into my eyes. 
My eyes were heavy as I stared into his; dark pools that bore an intensity I'd never seen before. There was a strange expression on his face, a combination of curiosity and wonder. It didn't take me long to realize that he was looking at me with complete adoration.
Cuddling with him, I could feel just how hard he was, laying on top of me. I smiled, still feeling a bit shaky after such a harsh orgasm, and placed my hand on his member. He looked at me with wonder.
"Are you sure you're ready to go on?" He asked, concern evident in his voice.
"Mmm, not really." I admitted, rubbing the bulge tentatively.
"Maybe I should give you a rest first." He leaned forward and licked my earlobe playfully.
"Oh, but I've been dreaming about this all day." I breathed into his ear.
He whispered back, "Well, who am I to deny you your dreams?"
His words sent a shiver down my spine, turning my knees weak. I reached up to pull him closer, craving the feel of his skin against mine. Then, before I knew what was happening, he grabbed my wrists and pinned them above my head.
It was like he possessed me. With just one swift motion, he pushed me backwards, then pressed himself firmly against me. He let out a low moan as he lifted my leg higher, curling me around his waist, penetrating me with one forceful thrust. The sensation was incredible. He reached behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me tight.
As he slowly moved in and out of me, I heard the same soft sound of pleasure escape from both of us. I found myself getting lost in his deep brown eyes, forgetting where I was and everything else around me. My head fell back against his shoulder as he moved ever so slightly faster. It wasn't long before I came again.
But instead of slowing down or stopping, he picked up speed even more.
My heart raced as I surrendered to the whirlwind of sensations coursing through me. With each powerful thrust, I felt myself edging closer to the brink of losing my mind, my body trembling with ecstasy.
He whispered my name like a prayer, his breath hot against my ear as he drove me to the edge and beyond. I clung to him desperately, my nails digging into his skin as I rode the waves of pleasure crashing over me.
And then, in a crescendo of bliss, we reached the pinnacle together, our cries of release mingling in the air. 
We lay entwined in each other's arms, spent and breathless. In that moment, there was no past, no future, only the intense connection between us, binding us together. With him by my side, I was ready to face whatever challenges life threw our way, knowing that our love would always be our guiding light.
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