#thank you so much! you've warmed my heart

[canisalbus]

doodled your little guys!!! I have so many thoughts about them. As someone who lives in Italy it has been absolutely wonderful seeing your characters express the country's culture and history!!! It's not often that I see characters be based off Italian history in such an artistic manner.. But that might be me living under a rock, LOL. Anyhow, keep doing what you do, YOU ROCK!!!!

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[joffyworld]

The Wall of Mutual Appreciation - Part I

@machetelettuce

You officially have the cutest Narinder boba eyes I've ever seen. They utterly confound me in the most captivating way. Perfect Nari Boba, 10/10! Not to even mention your lamb, that motherfucker is the cutest lil lamby ever made. So fluffy, so cuddly, so smiles. I need them in my life, thank you for making that possible.

@caffeinecramp

Sozo. Such an underrated and underutilized character is most au's but by God did you nail the design. He's so fluffy and neat, he looks so friendly and pure. But behind that fluffy exterior is the mad eyes of a scientist turned delusional zombie, and you portray it beautifully.

@halftoastedwaffle

Expressions! I'll admit I don't really know how to phrase this perfectly, but your expression work is flawless. Each face conveys such a beautiful range of emotions, even with characters that are super hard to use for facial expressions like Shamura. Such a powerful skill to have when telling a story through visual media, and you've got it down to an art form unto itself.

@thetireddoktor

Ugh Shamura. Shamura Shamura Shamura. Don't get me wrong Dok, your bishop designs are all absolutely stunning, I admire them constantly. But my God, you sure know how to draw that damn spider. I am deeply, deeply in love with that damn spider, and you've only made that feeling so much worse in the best way possible. You've got a real knack for drawing that evil bastard, I adore it.

@flowersgoldandgraphite

I love your Leshy to death and back. He's so smiley, so fluffy and so smug. Not to mention, he absolutely killed that dress you put him in. He looked beautiful, like he's always deserved to. The Leshy stan community thanks you dearly, your contributions will never be forgotten!

@z00lea

Undisputably the King of Cannibalism and Gore in the fandom. I don't know anyone that quite matches your crazy sense of detail when it comes to guts and violence, but somehow keeps it intimate and sensual at the same time.

@fanofthelambalt

I cannot overstate how much I adored when you went around with Vitas and interacted with so many other lambs. It was such a beautiful moment of community and made my heart so much warmer, I'll never forget those posts. So wholesome, so fun and so cute. It was perfect, and it reflects your kind and fun heart so well. Also your Helob drawing? Still the most beautiful piece of art I've seen of him, and it deserves the due credit. Such an under-drawn character, but man did you COOK with that. So so cool, so cool

@midia666

Horror! Few have mastered horror in all its subtleties quite the way you have. Your designs are dripping in horror and unease even before the gore and limbs begin to fly or dismantle, and it's such a treat to see. Not to mention, your Narinder and Shamura tear my fucking heart out. They're so tragic and pained, it's incredible really. You have a real knack for unnerving me in all the best ways, it's incredible to behold.

@wolsalwastaken

RATIL!!!!!!!!! RATILLLLLLLL!!!!!!! I fucking adore Ratil you don't understand, they're possibly my favourite main character OC and they're such an adorable lil fella. So so perfect in every way, I love the lil rat so much. Also when you put them in a dress I screamed, so bonus points for that! Your art style in general is just so fucking adorable and flexible to different tones, it's so good.

@yourtaquitos

Siliiness and seriousness, you always know the balance. You're so beautifully capable of shitposting one minute, then blowing my mind with a masterpiece the next. Your anatomy is delicious, your silliness is divine, and your art is deeply appreciated.

@lime202

Comfort. That's what I think of when I see your art. It's so perfectly comforting in every way. It's detailed, but simple, with beautiful intricacies threaded without being overwhelming. Your art reminds me of Spring and blooming flowers, it's so warming to the sight. Also your Leshy? So beautifully fluffy and cuddly, I will always love him.

@stitchesofsoulsart

There's so much love in every single post you make. It's so beautiful, the way you draw such wholesome loving fun and comfort the masses with your beautiful designs and creativity. You're equally capable of angst and drama, but goddamn the comforting fluff is what drags me in personally the most. That Nari design too? To die for. No other way to put it exists, it's peak Narinder alternate design. So fucking cool and pretty ugh.

@blueaceart

Okay this is super specific but the way you draw Shamura just intrigues me. The tired eyes and sunken sockets, like the weight of knowledge and the burdens of war have weighed upon them for eons. It's so beautifully harsh and real, and I never see anyone else take up the challenge of it in such a subtle way. So cool.

@shrimpsketchy

Pirates! I am utterly obsessed with your piracy au idea, it's so embedded in my brain and I genuinely screamed when I saw it. It's beautiful, such a unique concept I've not see anyone else attempt and WOW was the art that accompanied it just stunning on a whole other level. Genuinely art gallery tier art, I'm in awe at it every single time.

@jomo-is-here

Where the fuck to even start with you Jomo. Jomo, formerly known as Fwick, is the subject of my largest conspiracy yet. I am fucking CONVINCED that Jomo is the dev of the game that does the official artworks for special events and DLC, because holy SHIT is Jomo's art in a tier of its own. Jomo is the fucking Michael Jordan of Cult of the Lamb art, rivaled by very VERY few. The environments are splendid, the characters are adorable and it's all done in such a beautifully similar style to the official artwork of the game. You could easily tell me Jomo IS the person doing the official art, but if I'm being honest? Jomo is better (in my opinion). But don't get it twisted, you can tell the difference with a mere glance and Jomo's uniquely recognisable style is a unique and adorable edition that wouldn't go awry in a museum or an award show. This shit is top tier lemme tell you, I can't glaze it enough.

@scared-lantern

Lantern approaches art with a beautiful style and flair that few can match. Your lamb is one of the most adorable designs around and by God do you know how to maximise that cuteness in every way. Not to mention, your painted art style is just a real marvel for the eyes. I can't eat it enough, I'm always going up for seconds.

@jellyseafish

I absolutely adore the silly fun you upload with your art. Your lamb is so big eyed and fun to stare at as they get up to hijinks, even if the hijinks are just them staring back with big ol' peepers. Cutest patootest around, and boy do they love a good shenanigan. I adore them, I can't help it.

@shadbells

GOLD. Shad has a flair for the decorative and beautiful when it comes to art, and boy does it shine through in such a unique and beautiful way. The designs you make, especially for your lambs and Nari, has really quickly become some of my favourites Shad. The gold accents of the clothes and jewellery really highlight their beauty so well, and let me say personally they are BEAUTIFUL. Absolutely stunning designs with a delightfully devilish side when they want, I adore them in every way. 10/10, would marry and smooch, then get stabbed probably.

@ccarmody101

Your lamb design is beautiful as hell and your Nari and Goat bring me some seriously needed joy when I stumble on them again. You were actually one of the first COTL artists I stumbled on when I got Tumblr, and I'll always appreciate how you fed my addiction just as I took my first steps.

@shind91

Uniqueness. That's the first word that pops up when I think of Shin's art. The way you translate these furry fellas into humanised and more realistic designs is just bafflingly cool to me, it's such a brilliant translation that few people can so perfectly pull off. It's a genre of art I didn't know I needed, but by God do I love to see it now that I've seen your art more than ever before in my life. It's such a unique talent, and I cherish it every time I see it.

@spilycoris

Armour! I love the armour you've given your lamb, it's so beautiful while still being believable that they'd wear it. It's like a beautiful but functional jewellery, and really pulls the outfit together! Absolutely adorable, 10/10!

@angry-ursidae

Ursidae art, some of the most fulfilling silliness there is on Tumblr. Your Narilamb fuels my life, and your Shamura makes me die laughing. I don't know why, I just love that design it's so silly to me for some reason and I can't help but adore it. I love Ursidae art, this is known.

@frecktheheck

When I think of COTL character designs, Freck is one of the first names that pops into my mind. Between the anatomy, the charisma and character that blossoms in the characters designs and the historically-designed outfits, there's not a single thing you do badly, or even mediocre for that matter. Every single piece is a gift woven from the threads of love and passion, and the art style reflects your beautiful heart in a way that's so pure and comforting to all who see it. I cannot, and will never, have enough Freck art in my life. I can't stop devouring it and begging for more like a camel in the Sahara, and I wouldn't ever want that to change.

@haggz-is-here

If I had to give someone an award for "Person most likely to be a time travelling renaissance artist" it would be you Haggz. Your work, simply put, is INSANE in it's quality and baffling in its detail. I cannot, no matter how long I stare at it, understand how you do it. On a damn iPad no less. Da Vinci's legacy lives on in you, and by God do you do it proud. I can't praise it enough, it's just stunning every time. Stunning, there's no other word for it. Other than shocking, maybe?

@cultistic-ann-aka-sannaliel

Sanna is, quite frankly, a fucking genius at detail. There is nobody better for the minutae of an art piece than Sannaliel, and I will die on that hill. I have yet to be anything other than shocked and awe-inspired at a Sanna art piece, and I doubt that will ever change.

@hotchocolatedemon

A writer and a drawer, a rare double-talent! Not only that, but both are done to a wonderful degree! Never let it be said that hotchocolatedemon isn't a demon in the creative fields! I guess a deal with the devil would explain that 🤔

@tidalfoam

I fucking love your little gremlin ratsona. They're such a little thing, I adore them. I don't think there's a better meet the artist than your one if I'm being honest. It's perfect, sometimes less truly is more.

@loloelia

Lolo! The way your art has improved, even in the tiny amount of time I've sort of known you, has been tremendous, and it beautifully reflects your bubbly personality. Your positivity is a force for good in a negative world, and your art reflects that with every doodle and drawing! Don't ever change or doubt yourself, you're an amazingly joyful person to see around the place!

@cj-the-random-artist

This motherfucker manages to do two things at the same time. One: Draw the cutest lil fellas I've ever seen. They go to tea parties, they hug and slow dance, they go to TEA PARTIES. Two: educate the fuck out of me. I will always mention how CJ's QPR au was the first time I'd ever even heard of a QPR, l t alone been shown how it functions. It's so beautiful and passionately crafted, and reminds me how important representation is in art. There's nobody that does it better, and warms my heart in such uniquely beloved ways.

@twooftheluckyones

Gem and Cake!

To Gem: Your art heals a child in me I didn't know was wounded and in need of a bandage. It's so cute and pure, but so versatile in that too. Una is an utter delight, and Narinder is dripping with edge but without sacrificing the clear goopy interior that lies in his heart.

To Cake: You are, simply put, a writer in a tier purely of your own. The way you weave a tale with a myriad of writing tricks is just stunning to behold. If Gem is the heart, then you're the soul. There is nobody I take pride in learning from more than you, and you set a new standard with every piece you write. Never let it go said that Cake the Lucky can't write a bonafide masterstroke whenever he pleases, and in any genre he pleases. Smut? Action? Romance? Melancholy? Call this guy, he's the one to do it. Don't even get me started on how these two work together to make this shit sparkle, I'll be here all day.

@bogor-o

Have you ever seen an art piece so beautifully cuddly that you just wept because you can't actually hug the characters on your screen? Well, lemme tell you something. Bogor is the fucking expert of that. If you've ever wanted to see a character that looks like they could kill you with a stare and hug you back to life in the same breath, then go take a gander at Bogor's art, you will NOT be disappointed.

@greedykrab

Your skill in taking the abstract and turning it into the deeply developed is outstanding and profound. I will never quite "understand" your art style, and I think that's what draws me to it. It's like a beautiful puzzle you could stare at for days and never fully replicate, so uniquely yours in a world of already unique artists and styles. So so good.

@the-artist-grimm

The art? Spectacular, 10/10 on the cuteness and the violence when necessary. But the writing? Oh my God you crank that up to 11! Crimson Angel has torn my heart out every single step of the way and I'll never stop singing its praises. Your writing of parenting and the relationship between two firey but pained loves? Immaculate. Utterly perfect in every way.

@ro-bee

KIRAN. The beautiful baby boy I had the absolute honour of helping name. I will forever fawn over Pupigoat and your beautiful art style that brings them to life. Their pain is wholesome but brutal, and your skill at drawing it brings it to life so wholly and passionately. Not to even mention the rest of your art, it's all so unique and wonderful.

@losing-catharsis

A fellow poet amidst a sea of visual artists! The way you weave words into song without a rhyme scheme utterly fascinates me, and was a huge part of what inspired me to try free verse poetry in a few of my own works, to very little succes xD. Your a wonderful writer, never stop Cath <3

@zynical-forg

You draw, without any competition or contest, the CUTIEST PATOOTIEST Patooties ever. They're so small, so round and so lovable. Perfectly drawn blorbos every time, ready for some cute adventures together. Beautiful, 10/10 would fawn over again.

@yellowflowrs

Carillonneur. Need I say more? Okay but seriously now, you crafted the absolute BEST swap au I've ever seen in my life design-wise. The character traits? Hilarious and intriguing. The clothing? Beautifully horror themed. The actual character's designs and anatomy? Oh my God. Next level insane. The Carillonneur? The Rinder? So so good. I just devour them every time I see them. I've had to limit myself to my favourite of your au's or I'll be here till I die of old age, but I love them all so so so so sooooo much ugh. I can't wait to see what you get up to next, be it COTL or something else entirely!

@eliza-forget

You. You are the absolute most powerful MACHINE of creativity I have ever born witness to. I don't understand how you never seen to run out of ideas, motivation or passion, it's such a beautiful display of the human spirit at its finest. To top that off, the detail on every piece is just BAFFLING to point my eyeballs at. Every. Single. Post is just dripping with detail, whether that be clothing, design, anatomy, lighting, perspective or dialogue. It's insane how you produce artwork so fast, so efficiently and compromise nothing when it comes to vision, detail or passion. I genuinely feel inspired when I see your newest work almost every single day, I can only aspire to be like you and your bountiful spirit the same way someone aspires to a myth of the ancients and their acts of heroic bravery.

@loullipopx

Versatility. Lou does it all and goddamn do they do it well. Cuteness galore? Look no further than the Pokémon au and their designs. You'll cry they're so cute, and then you'll cry because you know you'll never see something as cute ever again in your life. Beautiful and sensual art? Go look at the pinups she did for the Lamb and Nari during the bunny suit trend. They have scarred my mind in such a beautiful way, I'll never forget it. Loulli makes that shit pop, and by God does it pop good as hell. Don't even get me started on the music she makes. Yeah that's right I'll say it publicly, this fucker makes music. Good music. GREAT music! The skillset goes above and beyond, and boy does it astound me every time I learn something new.

@lotus-duckies

Cannibalism? Check. Cuteness? Check. Religious themes? Check! The way you weave religion into your pieces is utterly fascinating to me, and I still remember our little theological talks super fondly. Every single piece is utterly soaked in symbolism, metaphor and a diabolical amount of love and passion, even when the love involved leads to a cannibalistic eating of a spouse or two. I cannot praise the detail put into these pieces enough, and the art style just emboldens those details tenfold. Never before have I seen an art style take me by the hand and plunge me into a sea of joy so quickly and vividly, and I'll always love it dearly.

@mudtrash

Two words. Anatomy. Ears. Your anatomy work on your lil sillies is utterly fantastic, especially your rare naked Nari. But the real prize in my eyes? The way you draw ears. I don't know why, but you give those motherfuckers the most beautiful flop I've ever seen. Nari? Big dorito ears. Lamb? Lil gloppy floppas. Goat? Middle ground flopperoos. They're all just so perfect. Your style is so cute and fun without sacrificing detail, it's to die for. For me though, the ears are the cherry on top of an already perfect cake. 10/10 dude, I wouldn't trade it for the world.

@streetchicken

Streetchicken cookin in the kitchen like it's KFC. Make no mistake, this motherfucker can COOK. Gay soldiers? Absolutely. Gay furry gods? Not a problem. Just a dude? Light work. Frog is an artiste behind the brush, but lemme tell you the real secret. Nobody, and I mean NOBODY, can draw a bear or a hunk quite like Streetchicken. Not a soul. This motherfucker can COOK when it comes to big huggable bears and rough-and-tumble fellas, and the competition never truly stood a chance. Whether it be Captain Price, Soap or Leshy, there are hunks abound. I thank you for your contributions to the bear community Frogo, never stop cooking 🫡

@faebunnyleap

Smiles! That's my immediate thought when I think of Fae. There's not a single piece of yours that doesn't have me smiling at the hilarity, the domestic bliss or the calming of it. Every single post is crafted with such a refined and calm hand, and 9 times out of 10 your characters are always so smiley and free. Your art style helps that so much too, it's so diverse. Your sketches are so silly and fun, but when you turn it up to 11 and get serious it's such a fantastic result. Also, I think about that fuckass pagliaci twins post so often it hurts. It's so good, top 3 shitposts ever. I love it, thank you so much.

@neon-virus

Size! I absolutely adore how you use your characters and their size differences, with such a crazy array of heights and builds. Goat is absolutely HUGE, a real unit, while Lamb is like the tiniest lil cutie patootie ever made. Nari acts as this weird middle ground where he's still super tall, but Goat's such a monster that he looks kinda normal? I love it so much. Also wow, your shading and rendering on your more detailed full pieces? Utterly splendid, I cannot ever be sated from my greed for more. So so beautiful.

@paintpaintpaintman

Trad art central over here. Your paintings are honestly stunning and it's so refreshing to see some trad art standing out amongst the digital age. Your designs are awesome too, and seeing them painted to life is so wholesomely warming. I get a shot of giddiness in my veins whenever you post, and I don't see that feeling ever fading in the slightest!

@cconfusedkat

The cuddliest designs in the whole world, so full of joy and whimsy. Every design bursts with a huggable energy that just sucks you in. It's beautiful, I adore it. There's not a single character that I wouldn't snuggle, pat on the head and feed a cookie for being such a delightful lil fella, I love them. I can only hope that they would love me.

@teruuu-main

Teru, Teru, Teru. Your brilliance knows no bounds. Every au just drips with personality and beauty, each so unique in the ways they shine. Old Faith Academy? Beautifully tropey, so comforting and warm. Compulsion of Flesh? Ohhh BOY lemme tell you about Compulsion of Flesh. Never have I seen someone write two characters that are so fucking VILE that I cannot help but love them. They're insane, they literally eat each other, and I eat it up like a starved hyena. I can't help it, they've devoured my brain since day one, and the saying is true, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder." This au will always be one of my favourites, and one of the first fan projects I ever got obsessed with. Words don't quite match my love for it, so just take some sounds. SNOOB. GLOOB. GLEEB. HAPAP! And so on.

@kikorikoiko

Your improvement in the time I've known you has been absolutely immense, and I adore the way you draw Astaroth and Kallamar. You've brought the Astaroth character to life in a way few have, and it's beautiful every time. Devs hire Kiko please, we need tragic polygamous gays to be canon (as if they aren't already).

@junoberrii

Cuteness. Pure and simple cuteness. There is not a single un-cute bone in Juno's wrist I swear to God. Every single post is just the cutest shit imaginable. So cute, in fact, that I constantly forget that the lamb is canonically a mass murderer, and that Nari is an asshole. If you want fluff, and you want it FLUFFY, go to Juno and just stare at the art on display. It heals your soul man, it really does.

@spiderin-space

Talk about versatility! Spider writes, and writes a damn fine story too! Not only that, but such a passionate and dedicatedly written story, with such a beautifully paced yet long winding story that leaves you always waiting for an update. The art though? Oh man the art. Cuddly, cute and joyful but with a perfectly conveyed sense of fear whenever Spider needs to put the brakes on the fun zone. Spider knows their shit, and does it perfectly to a T. Don't sleep on spider, that spider knows how to write a story that bites in the night, or soothes in the daytime. Take your pick, you won't be disappointed.

[gnohomotho]

Hello again!! It's the anon from the last request (the personal ask) and omg 😭😭😭 OMGGGG ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ I was giggling and just so into it THANK YOU! Please pleasseeee tell me they live happily ever after!

And thank you for reaching out it means a lot ❤️❤️ doing much better but really thank you 🙏😭

Oh, Anon, that makes me so utterly glad. They do live happily ever after, and to be quite honest, I was upset I didn't write more, so was working on a nice fluffly ending anyway.

And I am truly, truly glad you feel better. ♥ Still here, if anything comes up. Here you go, even if it wasn't a request - I hope it makes you smile again.

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Two Lives on the Table ➴ಇ — Epilogue

Pairing: The Salesman // The Recruiter x fem!reader Summary: Shameless, shameless fluff with a hint of edge. ♥ Warnings: None, just pack some extra insulin. Word count: 1.8k A/N: I am aware it's likely extremely out of character, but dear God, I just love writing or giving things that people can feel cuddled by. ˙ᵕ˙ Shared warmth > everything else right about now. Link to beginning ฅ^._.^ฅ Gorgeous gif by: @phantom-evil If you like my writing, I appreciate every like // reblog // follow // message, it keeps the blog visible and going! ♥

"Do you remember the night we met?"

You hum more to yourself than to the figure behind you.

"The lady on the bridge, dress fluttering wildly with the wind? Of course not."

You feel steps behind you - you've learnt to anticipate him even in his careful silence around you. A warm presence lands on your shoulder and moves up your neck.

"I don't remember her beautiful face, hollow and torn at with a weight she couldn't carry alone anymore."

His kisses travel upwards and nudge your ear. His voice turns to a sweet soothing whisper.

"Nor do I remember how her hair enveloped her features as she sunk those pleading yet resolute eyes into mine, I don't remember feeling like a little universe breathed life into itself and almost died right in front of me."

You smile sadly but cradle his head on your shoulder with your palm running through his thick black hair. He sinks into the rhythm of your gentle movements and you hear his breathing grow steady.

"I don't remember her shivering elegant hands enveloping the bullet, like she was handling a delicate flower."

His kiss travels to your cheek before sinking his warm lips into the crane of your neck. His shared warmth travels through your shoulder and envelops itself in your chest like a little owl cozying into its nest.

"I don't remember the feeling of my heart stopping and my tie growing too tight as she handed me the live bullet. Handing me her whole life with trust she told me she didn't have. I cannot recall her tranquil yet timid smile, as if trying to sooth both me and herself - and she shivered, hands still intertwined."

He uses one long leg to sidestep around you and remain in the warm confines of your neck. His other hand finds your unoccupied side and trails a brush of a single finger from your cheek down to your jaw. One finger caresses it in slow, repetitive motion.

"A beautiful ghost in front of me, her lips still caressing mine although so far from me. I don't remember spinning the magazine so she didn't know a thing. I don't remember how the motion of taking the bullet out felt like the most natural thing in the world. As if my fingers knew what to do before my mind leapt to agree."

You giggle softly, trying so very hard to believe him. It seemed so unthinkable, so far away. His kisses reply by trailing your cheek, brushing lips against each molecule of skin they find, as if he cannot bear to be disconnected from you for even a second. His hand envelops your neck softly, protectively, and rests against you. Nudging the small of your nape as he moves down to kiss your chin, your neck, moving lower to the hollow of your throat.

"Serene, dignified, and I wish I could remember that little universe reaching out to me like a newborn baby asking to be held."

He plants a kiss straight in the little dimple where your breath always gets caught when you're nervous.

"So polite even in her tired, sharp, enveloping armour. Can't remember, not one bit, how astounded I was when she thanked me."

His breath rests on your skin and you don't stop swaying, only ease the motion as if to calm him.

"Knowing she'd likely die. But she wanted to thank me for the few moments of torturous peace - and I don't remember."

His hand clasps your shoulder, though his body remains steady. You feel his breath quicken and continue your lulling motions as his hand trails and holds onto your back.

"I don't remember how my hands froze and grasped at thin air, how much I longed to be in her hair again, so close to her face, so intertwined with her that skin would feel like a barrier. How much I wanted her to hush into my suit and bury her head into my chest - I don't remember the anger I felt as I didn't understand. I didn't understand and I had felt...like the game had played me."

Finally he lifts up from your embrace, your chest, your throat, and sinks his eyes - so calm and wistful now - into your own. Threatening to pull you in with their seemingly true sincerity. How much those eyes can say when they actually speak - and how much was reserved for you.

Even now, it both daunted and melted you anew. He wouldn't show that to just anyone. And just anyone wouldn't bother to read every single twitch, non-blink, and gentle crane as his charcoal pupils followed yours.

"Because I simply don't remember feeling like I had no choice."

You let the silence speak, not wishing to intrude. Softly you breathe into him.

"That sounds...awful for you, darling."

"Oh," he smiles politely, not quite teasing, "it would be absolute torture if I remembered anything at all."

He places your face in both his hands and envelops you - how you love when he can do that and leave almost nothing without warmth and still remain so gentle - as gentleness is a choice he willingly lays down - and he kisses your forehead, the bridge, then the tip of your nose and finally, your mouth. Brushing his lips from one corner to the other before simply remaining at their side, touching, feeling, being.

"Though one thought that I do remember keeps me up at night, dear mine."

His voice had changed to a low coo as he smiles at you, one corner lifting yet concealing feigned seriousness. The air grows just a little colder.

"And I can remember it quite well."

You pause, studying his face, his features, unsure if he's truly being serious or still half playing with you. He leans close, lips brushing your ear. You smile as it tickles and you feel his breath hop just a little bit - you know this one, he's trying not to laugh or give away the game too soon.

"She seemed quite enamoured with someone else. Tell me, sweetheart, and don't lie..."

The atmosphere has stiffened but you remain ever still, anticipation cradling the warmth in your chest. Though your gentle lulls have also ceased. The air holds a breath for you and he gladly snatches it for himself:

"...does Death really have such nice calves?"

You burst out laughing, doubling over into him and grabbing his back as you use his suit for cover.

"I'm so sorry, darling," you muffle between giggles into his all-enveloping frame, feeling his hands lay upon you in return and guide your whole body into his, his own chest fondly lifting in a subdued series of chuckles.

"I mean it was a tough choice, really had to think hard about it. Calves, the cape...to be honest..." Your hand finds his throat, tapping on the collar of his shirt before playfully but gently yanking at his tie.

"It was the tie."

"The...tie?" He pulls away in utter jovial surprise, still pretending he's trying to be incredibly serious on such dire matters. But the corners of his mouth are twitching and that gorgeous round face is as full of life as it was when you first jumped into a kiss unprovoked.

"Yep. Darling. The tie. Death might have the legs and the cape, but he doesn't have that absolutely dapper tie. Or those gorgeous hands that always make sure it's in place when you're getting serious."

"Then allow me," he straightens and adjusts his tie, his face falling into an unreadable mask of absolute cool resolution.

"Still offended, little lady, this shan't go unpunished."

A glint in his dark eye reminds you who this is you're taunting. And it sure doesn't help you cease nor desist.

"Gosh, if only the young knight knew he didn't have to play chess, lose everything in the game itself, if only he had simply...adjusted his tie. Death would have had to fold right then and there."

The absurdity is rivaling your own attempts at not losing your composure again.

He lifts you into him, as lightly as if it were nothing to him, reminding you how much stronger and how much more dangerous he truly is - but leaves it all (well, most of it) at the door when it comes to you.

As you snuggle into his neck and kiss him, caressing him with your face, your forehead, and planting your lips wherever you can in little intervals and feel his nudges and hushed breaths in reply, you whisper in his ear as his hands tighten around your waist, letting one do the holding and the other trail fingers up and down your back:

"Your calves are very pretty too, just so you know."

A very serious inflected 'hmmm' fills the silence and you get flung into him, now using your legs to steady around his waist and grip.

"Well, we can't have that, I need to outplay Death again it seems. On the matter of calves."

He leans in and gives you a small kiss, feigning exasperation but adjusting you with a little jump right against his own lower body.

"Little lady, you're impossible."

You blush from your cheeks to your chin and your heart might just flutter out of your chest.

"And that tie would look far better around my mouth, I know, I know."

He lifts both eyebrows, intrigue rushing through the playfulness and the attempts at remaining stoic. Was that a little hand flutter?

"I was thinking wrists, to be quite honest, because I've grown fond of that mouth of yours - then again, you seem rather radiant lately."

That smile becomes truly devious and you could swear the atmosphere packed its bags and left the building, unable to breathe here.

"What if I flipped you on the bed in lieu of a coin?"

You tip your head back and laugh, blushing evermore, feeling every warm part of his body against you, enveloping you, caressing you.

"Heads?" You kiss his forehead, a whisper of a giggle hiding in your smile.

"Tails." He moves his hand down the small of your back, teasing gently, caressing you from the curve of your waist down yet never even beginning to act crude. Yet.

"What if I land on my side?" You cock your head to the left and try not to smile, truly living the wager here.

"Then I get both," he simply states as if the matter was settled and carries his radiant love to play.

[beemynumber127]

Pictures from Pinterest.

Oh no, he’s hot

→ Kindergarten teacher assistant!Reader x older brother of a student (it’s Taeyong)

→ heart-warming fluff, as the title suggests

→ reader blames Taeyong for the incident (that’s my love language, yay)

→ inspired by an event that occured last week (yes, took me some time to process it; no, I don’t think it meant anything for either of us hopefully)

-> also inspired by the Taeyong pictures at military service :D

word count: ~592 words

—-

Nat was a sweet, intelligent girl in your assigned class who could be quite mischievous. She was precocious for her age - probably due to growing up around adults since young. Her boba eyes could melt even the head teacher’s frost-like temperament.

She did the same three things every morning when she arrived:

Firstly, arm wrestle (you let her win every time, to her dismay, so it was a win win situation - you didn’t become a statistic of her losses and she was technically the winner).

Secondly, check your ear lobes to see if you had put on new earrings, remarking if you changed and if you didn’t.

And last but not least; ask, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Nope.” “Why not?”

(You felt guys your age were too… immature? Undeveloped? In both brains and brawn, you suppose. A wise woman at the fish market once told you to wait till a guy had finished his military service before even considering to date him. You believe wholeheartedly in that after going through a high school relationship that left you traumatised for the foreseeable future.)

---

Nat waves goodbye to you with one hand, the other clinging onto her brother’s. Who is currently trying, with surgical precision, to manoeuvre her bag over to his arm without disrupting her waving.

“Nat’s brother is really good-looking, isn’t he?” The teachers gush in hushed tones near the cubby holes. You squeeze past them to get your bag.

You've never thought much about him. Sure, he was easy on the eyes. His style, immaculate. You’re sure he’ll never need to go through the relationship phase of needing his girlfriend to pick out clothes for him.

---

Nat talks about her brother constantly. Despite the large age gap, it seems that Nat adores him. Shows you his baby photos that she’d snuck into her books for safekeeping.

He’s off at army, she says. Comes back for the weekends to stay with the family.

It’s fun with him around because she usually doesn’t see him, ever, even on the weekends. You nod along sympathetically, picturing this lean guy you’d seen on brand advertisements or the occasional fancam appearing on your fyp. In a baggy shirt, bucket hat on his head when picking Nat up from school.

---

Then one fine day, you mistake him for a stranger. You blame his muscular back, and the fact that you’ve never seen him wear such… fitting clothes before.

You’re entering a mall to run errands when the person in front holds the door for you.You thank said person in your “public voice” - that kind which warrants a response, like a nod or a “you’re welcome”.

The person turns to face you, still holding the door, and you two make eye contact. It takes you a hot second to recognise him — Nat’s brother.

As if you hadn’t stared enough for the both of you, he looks, really looks at you.

Time stands still. Your heart thunders in your chest.

What is happening.

Those eyes. Sucked you right in.

And cut! You can almost hear someone shouting. Taeyong drops his gaze from yours and smiles softly.

He rushes ahead of you, rejoining his sister and mother who are browsing the menu of a restaurant further away.

You’re screwed, really screwed.

He really should’ve kept his eyes to himself.

[lsd-astronaut]

Hi!! Would you be willing to write some cute headcanons for what it would be like to date the hobbits? The main four (Frodo, Sam, Pippin, Merry) and also Bilbo if you’d like! Preferably a fellow hobbit reader, I wanna live in the Shire so bad haha. Can’t wait to see what you come up with! 😊💛

Hello! Thank you so much for your request, you're a sweetheart 💕I relate SO much to your wanting to live in the Shire, I feel like that could solve 99% of my problems. How lucky that we're getting that Tales of the Shire game in July of this year, eh? Anyways, I hope you enjoy, but keep in mind that this is my first time writing anything for LoTR so I apologize if it's not good.✨

Dating the hobbits (x Fem!Hobbit!Reader)

✦ Frodo

Book dates! He is a certified bookworm and would love to either read to you or do some parallel play where both of you are reading different things in the same room, and there aren't even words exchanged except maybe he is lying on your lap or viceversa, and it's super cozy. If you're not much of a reader but show enough interest, he would still try to recommend you something he thinks you'd like.

Following this line of thought, I believe he can read you so well! He is very perceptive of your moods, and is always two steps forward. However, he won't say anything, and just hand you the thing you need and just smile sweetly as you stand there like "...how" Those blue eyes can bore into your soul.

Can I also say tea parties? I feel like he would love tea (what happens when you have Bilbo as an uncle), and every time he knows you're coming over, he will literally plead for Bilbo to let him use his best tea set, and who is Bilbo to be in the way of young love?

He would also invite you every time he goes to the Green Dragon, and is delighted that you get along with Sam, Merry, and Pippin so well. Frodo just loves the people he considers his family and his heart has space for one more.

✦ Sam

Yeah, this hobbit cannot believe how lucky he is when he asked you out and you immediately said yes. He still cannot believe it as the years pass. It's a feeling he thinks will never go away, which is a good thing because it makes your relationship something that will never lose its shine.

Honestly, I didn't see him as a poet guy, but I'm warming myself to that idea. However, I feel like he wouldn't be writing long sonnets about your beauty, but instead little poems of a few verses, comparing you with a flower of your garden. You can tell when he's writing one of these because he will blush red like a tomato, but you've decided not to tell him for his poor heart's sake. Besides, you love his face when he sees you reading and reacting to one of his poems!

His go-to gift in anniversaries or special days, or sometimes when he feels like it, is bouquets of flowers he picks from his garden. Merry and Pippin tease him for being so down bad for you that he's willing to do that (honestly, you're the only person, not even Mister Frodo gets the privilege), but he chooses to ignore them. He also loves to cook for you on these days and loves to see your face as you try his food.

His family is constantly asking him to bring you over and his poor nerves can only handle so many questions about you two, but he is secretly glad they love you almost as much as he does.

✦ Merry

Certified little shit #1 whom I love very much.

He knows he's pretty and he's not humble at all (secondary effect of rich kid syndrome) but when he started dating you, he was like "wait, I think I actually want to be better for them."

Dates would either consist of full on philosophical conversations fueled by so much pipeweed that would give the two of you the biggest munchies known to man hobbit, or drinking contests in the Green Dragon topped by dancing on top of a table in true hobbit fashion.

Now, on a more serious note, he is SO good at remembering every single little detail about you. You are pretty sure he has a little notebook where he keeps everything you tell him, but alas you haven't seen it, and his lips are sealed. He also keeps strict schedules for dates on more important days, and gets a bit nervous when something happens outside of what he's planned for, but a kiss will surely steer him back on track sooner than you can say 'shire'.

Adores how well Pippin took to you (see what I did there lmao) and is happy to see you both get along even if it sometimes comes back to bite him in the ass when you two team up to either tease or prank him.

✦ Pippin

Certified little shit #2 whom I love very much.

Once again, he knows he's cute and yet he, like Sam, still can't believe you choose to stay with him, but Yavanna forbid if he won't make use of this opportunity he has been given.

He makes so much effort in the relationship. He has to be the best boyfriend ever, and will break his back to make sure you're happy. This would lead to a conversation about your expectations in the relationship and how Pippin does not have to prove his worth constantly. You are not going to get mad at him if he makes a mistake, and he appreciates that.

Sweetheart that loves to talk about you to whoever is present and willing to listen. Frodo, Merry, and Sam still try to listen to him, but if Pippin is drinking, he will just go on and on, and they will probably just tune him out after a bit.

He asks Merry for advice when planning dates for you, and Merry is more than glad to exercise his role of older cousin. The success of said plans between these two is better left to your imagination.

Bonus: Bilbo

He is an indoors hobbit so dates are mainly spent in Bag End with you reading and him writing (parallel play well done is so relaxing and I will die on this hill), or both of you drinking hot cocoa in front of the fireplace as he tells you some stories from his little adventure to the other side of the world.

Dating him would be so entertaining in the sense that you'll always receive visits from so many different relatives. The first time, Bilbo was very apologetic but after seeing you dispatch Lobelia swiftly and politely, he found his heart beating very fast and knows you don't need his protection as much as he wants to keep you safe.

For me, no one died in the Battle of Five Armies, so he would invite you to his yearly trips to Erebor. The dwarves do come by Bag End every once in a while, but he likes to go to the Mountain to see Thorin and Fíli, who can't really go anywhere because of their duties as King and Prince Under the Mountain.

When Frodo's parents die, Bilbo is conflicted between adopting him or not. He doesn't want to impose a whole ass child on you so he sits you down and hears what you have to say about this entire thing. Feels very relieved when you tell him you see no problem in adopting the little hobbit.

Very happy with his family, both hobbits and dwarves.

My first request done! I have no idea why it took so long, I had so much fun writing for this, even though I know these are very general daring headcanons, but you can only get better by writing. Anyways, I hope you like it, and that I did them justice!

Please, like and reblog!

[valentine-cafe]

Can I req some of your cold/emotionally closed off characters making their child reader cry bc the child thinks that they don't love them :( thank you!

˖⁺. ﹙ monster parents & child reader. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . my sweet child !! 🍒 :  

you cry because you think your cold hearted parent doesn't love you - but that couldn't be further from the truth 

﹙ Haitao 209. ﹚. . . gentle with slight panic !! 🍒 :

"Oh. . ." He murmurs quietly the moment he watches the little child in front of him start to cry at his lack of expression and reactions to them.

Quick, heavy footsteps thud against the floor as he makes his way over to you. He does not display the slight panic he feels rise in his chest. Instead, with gentle pats on your head, he attempts to reassure you that he's there. The faintest hint of a smile curling at the corners of his lips. "Don't cry, I'm here. It's okay—"

"You don't love me!"

Snot and saliva smears against his shirt as a pair of tiny arms wrap around his waist. The fabrics muffle your cries and pulls a rare frown out of him.

Long arms extend towards the ground so they can scoop up the much smaller reaper into them and cradle them. "I love you lots," he hums and attempts a little smile, though he knows it never really looks good when he does. it's been who knows how long since he was able to give smiles that looked like genuine ones.

But the one he gives you really is a smile. "You're my kid yea? I love you very much," his shoulder tremble a little, the surrounding area quiet, as he brings you into a close hug and carefully sways you from side to side. Hand rubbing at your back to soothe your little sniffles and sobs.

 

﹙ Alessio 9948e. ﹚. . . immediate horror !! 🍓 :

That small pair of lungs you've got sure can let out a lot of air with the sad cries that scatter out in the surrounding apartment. Your adoptive sorcerer father looks down at you with wide eyes full of horror, that only spins at the spiral of sobs you have broken into.

"Aye— ayeayeaye, hey stop," frantic hands throw up into the air, his poet shirt and long black cardigan soft as slim, bony arms shoot forward to pick you up and lift you up. Even if you're a bit heavier than he can usually lift, he uses a bit of magic to make sure you don't fall out of his hold.

Heartbreaking, is the only way he could ever describe the sound of your crying. It always reminds him of when his little brother would cry to him when they were kids.

"What's wrong?" He asks giving you a little smile while he bounces you a little in his arm in attempt to soothe your small break, "what happened?"

"You look at me evil. . ." You sniffle, and oh, your poor dad's heart, shattering into pieces when your shaky words pierce his ears. "You don't lo—"

"I love you more than anything, mijo/mija." How can he not frown at the little sentence. Yes, you'll grow up to get used to his slightly closed off personality and stoic behaviour, but he adores you. He cannot fathom a world without his little duck walking around happily stepping in puddles when it rains. Fingers pointed at birds when they fly by.

"I love you, see?" Swiftly he pulls out one of his little lockets and opens it to show you a picture of you and your passed baba inside of it. "I love you, just like your baba would."

 

﹙ Orion. ﹚. . . !! 🍒 :

"Appa. . ." You sob quietly, eyes directed up to his to try and catch his attention. You don't fully understand he is currently at his post, overlooking the abyss outside of the city walls.

He could tell tears were in the oncoming horizon before they even arrived. Left wings spread slowly to carefully nudge you over towards him.

Big eyes looked up at him curiously, moist with tears. While your little hands reach up to him to be picked up, no longer do you wish to stand on the cold earth in the harsh weather conditions of the abyss. Not when you could be snuggled up in your dad's layered hanfu and be warm and feel love radiate off of him.

Manicured nails comb through your hair, while a smile graces the abyssal angel's lips, his draconic fangs peeking through just a little.

"Do not mistake my little frowns for malice," he speaks. "Your appa loves you dearly."

His words have never been many, but with you, he will always make sure you know his voice and words. And how important you truly are to him

 

﹙ Jìngyí verseless. ﹚. . .what do i do !? 🍓 :

Tears stream down your face at the pace of the ocean's waves back in the mortal realm. Even so, the demonic alchemist that has adopted you, doesn't know what to do nor how to completely react. So instead, he goes for the next best choice:

"Alessio—" He calls, arms extended out to you and yet to pick you up. Unsure if you even want that. He thought the two of you were having fun. He might've accidentally have given you a look he wasn't aware of that he did in the first place. "Alessio please help."

A mess of black hair moves in front of you, picking you up with a little grunt that hushes your cries quickly. Tired, emerald eyes meet yours, still so full of life despite the sleep that is in them.

"Is Jìngyí being evil again?" Alessio asks jokingly, as you recieve a gentle tap to your nose by his index.

"I am not evil! I was just teaching them how to make potions!" The demon exclaims, distressed at your panic. HIs eyebrows knitted in guilt and shame of, as his right hand continues to stir the large cauldron before the three of you.

 

﹙ Rishima 781. ﹚. . . motherly instincts !! 🍒 :

"Mama do you love me?" Oh the tremble in your high pitched voice said it all.

Her eyes remain the same as before, as she picks up the little one in front of her. Oh she’s been through this before with her own kids when they were your age too. She's always struggled to express herself properly, even more feel what emotions go through her.

But one thing she knows is that she can't stand and also just let you cry that would be cruel. She loves you dearly! the mere thought that you think she doesn't does prickle away at her heart, whether she feels it or not.

"Beta, I'll always love you, what makes you ask that?"

You move your arm up to wipe your big teary eyes and look down at the ground, feet kicking one after the other as you sit in her hold. "I just get scared sometimes. You don't smile at me often mama."

"But beta," she hums quietly, and taps at you, mustering a small smile, "that doesn't mean i don't love you. I do, I always will."

[moonlightretriever]

i honestly love watching you enjoy + love life so much. i hope this is okay, but i like to live vicariously through you? im not american and weed isnt legal here, so i like to pretend that i get to be smoking with you when you get stoned at 10 am. adult baby diapers are really expensive here (like $50+USD for the pack that you were able to get for $35), so i also like to pretend that i get to wear your diapers with you!

idk you're just really cute and sweet and i dont do well with online relationships, but i really really really wish that i lived close to you and we could be irl friends

cant stop reading this and feeling such a happy warm glow in my soul ;w; you never know what the future holds, anon! maybe our paths will cross! i hope they do! im glad i can be some sort of.. idk if escape is the word but imma use it SOME SORT of escape for you!! im gonna be thinking about us doin cute stuff together all the time now ehehe... but thank you so much thank you ahhh MY HEART REALLY IS SUPER FUZZY FEELING IDK HOW ELSE TO DESCRIBE IT!!!! but yes i love u i hope one day we can have fun together and stuff and and and yeah.. ;w;

[1-800-adore-me]

Nonsexual Dominance with Caleb 🍎

Since Caleb has been around you ever since you could remember your childhood, his presence was always lingering around your person. He was like an anchor - strong, dependable, and who you knew would always hold you down if life began getting hectic. It was the norm for you to depend on him since he was your safe place. When you were younger, he was the perfect study buddy to have and now that you've moved into his home, he was now the perfect roommate. You didn't notice it at first since he was always around you as kids but once the two of you reunited and began living with each other again, you've started to notice how much his presence dominated your life.

Everywhere you two went out in public, he had his large hand on your back. - “Just a safety measure, pipsqueak. Wouldn’t want you to get lost in the crowd, hm? You’re just so small that I’m afraid you’ll fly away if I’m not around you,” He’d reassure. You don’t tell him that you could feel a stark contrast when he isn’t around and doesn’t have that warm hand of his behind your back - that familiar spot that he loved to rest his hand on felt cold and lonely without him. In reality, he loved the feeling of your walls being down when you felt safe with him. It made him feel needed, wanted, and dependable from you, his darling. 

You noticed that he always seems to be making the decisions. Even if you make suggestions, his words always make you string along with whatever he says - like that one time when he was washing your hair with his shampoo and you said you liked it, in which he replied that he would buy one for you to take home. Another moment was when you asked Caleb if you should wear a black or white dress for one of his events - which he then chose black that day. Seeing you rely on him makes him happy. - “Just relax that overworked brain of yours and let me decide for you, okay? You can rely on me, princess.” After a hard day, it was especially comforting to have Caleb plan out the evening once you get back home from a mission. - "You look worn out, sweetie. Here, why don't you relax at the dinner table and I'll make your favorite, okay? Then after that, we can finish that movie you've been dying to finish and head to bed early so you can recharge more."

Regarding your wardrobe, half of it was from Caleb at this point. When he came home, he would have a shopping bag in his hand, along with that gentle smile on his face. - “Look at what I got today, honey. I was passing by a store and I just knew that you would look gorgeous in it. When have I ever been wrong about my fashion choices regarding you?” - He’d let out that familiar, warm chuckle as you ran towards him with an enthusiastic smile. You would give him a small fashion showcase, walking and strutting down the living room in your brand new clothing that he was generous to gift you. One of your favorite everyday tops was from Caleb, as well as your new jewelry that you would now always be seen with. 

“Oh, this? Caleb gave me another jacket! Isn’t it gorgeous!?” You would squeal to your friends on FaceTime, showing off the beautifully crafted jacket that seemed to fit you just right. Due to your excitement, you wouldn’t notice Caleb peeking from your barely cracked open door, grinning to himself as he drank your reaction like a dehydrated man. His heart always felt full whenever you wore anything he bought as he knew that you were wearing him. His things that he bought for you. It was an arousing sight, seeing his claim all over you and you just take it with that adorable, naïve smile on your face - “No way, Caleb! Thank you so much! I’ll be sure to show this to my friends whenever I can!” By this point, your friends should already associate the majority of your wardrobe with him.

Another thing with Caleb was that he was insistent on making sure you had proper rest. He was always a worry-wort before you moved in, making sure to call you once he knew the clock was reaching your bedtime in order to make sure you were taking care of yourself. - “Mind explaining why you’re still up even though it’s 30 minutes past your bedtime, princess? …Oh, you were ‘just’ waiting for me? I can tell that you’re lying to me. You’re staying up because you wanted to watch a new episode from that show you’re binging, huh?” You would give a defeated sigh, wondering if Caleb had another evol that could read minds at  this point. Once you moved in, it was common for him to set the bedtime for you. - “You should go to sleep now, pipsqueak. I can see eyebags developing under those pretty eyes of yours. I’ll put you to bed now, okay?” He would effortlessly carry you off the couch with those strong arms of his and lay you into your shared bed, tucking you in so neatly that your drowsy eyelids were already closing by the time he was done. He would soothe you to sleep with a small hum as he stroked your soft locks, making sure that you were deep asleep before heading to bed himself. If you were stubborn and still wanted to spend time with him even though you were fighting off the urge to sleep, he would laugh at your adorable attempt and shush you with another bad bedtime story. - “You always tell me that I tell bad stories. But who’s the one who always falls fast asleep when I tell one, pipsqueak?” No matter what, it would always end up the same. The last thing on your mind before you’d drift into a slumber would be his gentle, hushed voice. 

[adelliet]

Wolverine x f!reader

5 DAYS IN HEAVEN

Summary: Since Wade is going away on a mission, he asks you to take care of his roommate. At first you will refuse, but in the end you will be so freaking grateful.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, age gap, strong language, masturbation, breast play, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected sex (p i v), little blood, reader is smaller than Logan

A/n: This is so freaking long I'm so terribly sorry I got really into it, so I am sorry if there will be some grammar mistakes or some parts that won't make sense, I'm not a native English speaker, anyways enjoy <3

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

"Fuck no Wade!" you shut your eyes as you frustrated shouted. "Please I need this!" he kept trying to convince you, reaching for your hands but you flinched. "I'm not going to make you a fucking housewife, have you lost your mind?" you asked, beginning to doubt about men's IQ at this point. “Not for me but for Logan” he corrected you as if that made a difference. “It's literally the same” you turned your back as you walked into the kitchen, Wade following you like a dog on a leash. "Please, I'll do anything!"

You stopped for a second. You've never heard Wade so desperate and you've known him for five years and as a neighbor, you know his behavior very well, this is not like him at all.

"Why do you care about him so much?" you asked, leaning against the fridge with your hands tied across your chest. "He's my bestfriend! I love him-" "Okay now it's getting weird" you turned around again as you poured some water into a clean glass.

"Please I can't lose him because he starved, I need my fuckbuddy-" you almost choked as you heard Wade's words while drinking. Never drink while Wade is talking, noted. "And why can't you just take him with you?" you turn around and furrow your eyebrows. "It's not that easy pumpkin" you rolled your eyes but didn't give up to find some other way.

"So he would order fast food, what's the matter?" "Do I look like I have enough money to feed a giant who eats like a beast?" you sigh in annoyance as you slowly realize that there probably isn't other way to solve this. "Wade, I can't cook for him-" "Why not? You're the best cook I know! Please, just for five days, no more!"

When you saw his beggar eyes, you had no choice. You sigh loudly and close your eyes as your head drops. "Fine." You growl and immediately regretted your decision as Wade grabbed you and spun you around at breakneck speed. "Jesus alright stop I'm gonna throw up!" Wade placed you back on the floor and you struggled to keep your balance. But when your vision was no longer blurry, Wade’s excited face warmed your heart. "Thank you so much! I owe you I swear!"

He gave you one last kiss on the cheek before he left your apartment. You could hear him excitedly screaming in the hallway, even on his way to his apartment. You chuckle and shake your head, he is really a child stuck in a 30 year old body.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You don't really know Logan. You know that he moved in with Wade and they started living together, but you never found out why. Besides, you didn't even have much interaction with him, mainly because of his expression.

He still looks angry and sour, whenever you see him in the hall, you try to avoid him, because his stern expression sent you dread and goosebumps all over your body. Unlike Wade, he didn't look like a friendly neighbor who comes to visit you when he needs sugar or flour.

Rather, he looked exactly like the neighbor who just complains about you every chance he gets. You were a little afraid of the deal, going to cook for him and who knows what will happen if he doesn't like it. What if he spits on you? Or do anything worse?

You were only comforted by the thought that you would only go to him a few times a day and then you could lock yourself away and be safe. Your thoughts about Logan and the whole deal were interrupted by an aggressive pounding on your door. You immediately knew who it was.

You sighed when you saw Wade in the doorway, rudely barging into your apartment without asking. But you're used to it.

"So when are you moving in?" your eyes almost fell out of their sockets when Wade threw this question at you without hesitation. "What are you talking about?!" you tried not to think the worst, unfortunately it was the worst. "Well, you'll be living in my apartment during my absence-" you pointed index finger at him and shook him. "No no no, you didn't say that!" Wade stopped. "I thought it was obvious..."

Your heart was beating a hundred and six and your blood was at boiling point. "Wade! I'm not living with that psychopath!" you lost your shit and started screaming at him. Wade was still calm. “He's not that bad” you were shocked at his words and how easily he was letting them out of his mouth.

"Wade! What if he kills me?" Wade rolled his eyes and shook his head. "He won't kill you, don't worry, if something happens stab him...even though it probably wouldn't help" you started being red from how angry you were. "Why can't I stay here?" you finally asked him the main question.

"You know, I'm afraid something will happen to him, I want you to watch over him" you just started to mock Wade’s patheticness. Oh you are so done. "No….no! I am not gonna do it" "Ah come on sweetheart" Wade grabbed your hands so tightly that you couldn't even break free from his grip.

"I swear I'll give you anything for this, I'll be grateful to you for the rest of my life...just 5 days, please" even as you fought with every nerve and muscle in your body to refuse, his convincing eyes got you again and you let out an annoyed breath.

Wade immediately understood that you agreed and pulled you into a tight hug. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou" he kept thanking you and you started seeing stars for a moment from his tight grip. Again and again you regretted your decision and wanted to get a fake passport, change your identity and fly far away. Unfortunately, this option will not work.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

First day

The time had come for you to introduce yourself to Logan and move in. You only had a small bag over your shoulders, where were your clothes, hygiene items and necessary things. Even if you miss something, you can always go to the apartment next door, aka your home.

“Look, I'm just warning you, Logan can be a little…rude sometimes” Wade told you and you nodded. You already deduced that yourself from his face expressions. Even so, you wanted to be nice and make an impression on him, maybe he'll be a little softer if he sees you smiling.

“Alright, here we go” Wade looked even more nervous than you. When he grabbed the doorknob and went inside, Logan was nowhere to be found. You slowly followed Wade, looking for the grumpy big guy. But suddenly the door to the room opened and the famous, rude Logan came out.

He was wearing a brown shirt and jeans with a belt, now that you had a chance to get a good look at him, he didn't look so bad. "Logan!" Wade squealed excitedly while Logan still had a stern look on his face.

When his eyes landed on you, he didn't move a single muscle, unlike you. You were sweating, your smile was twitching but you tried to keep your cool. "Who is that?" he pointed at you and slowly walked closer. "So glad you're asking, Logan, this is your temporary housewife"

You were quiet but still smiling, while holding your hand for a shake. Logan rolled his eyes and moved his head from your sight in annoyance. That's a nice welcoming. "I don't fucking need her" you would be lying if those words didn't touch you a little, but Wade warned you, so you were at least half prepared for it.

You slowly dropped your hand back to your body and looked at Wade in confusion. "Well if he doesn't need me, I can go-" "No! Stay!" he grabbed your shoulder and looked angrily at Logan. "We already talk about this, be nice" he hissed through his clenched teeth and Logan just sighed. He looked back at you, that annoyed look still on his face. He was literally screaming through that face that he wants to kick you out and he really doesn't want you here. Your smile slowly dropped and you started overthinking, how the following 5 days would look like, with this grumpy rude man.

"Good kitty" Wade complimented Logan who growled back at him. "Well, the kitchen is over there, I'll show you your room and then I'll have to go, the mission awaits!" Wade got behind you and pushed you forward past Logan, who was staring at you but still with an annoyed and slightly confused expression.

"Well, put your things here and I have to go. Bye bye and thank you, I owe you” Wade quickly led you into the guest room, patting you on the shoulders before disappearing out of the apartment, leaving you and the curmudgeon alone.

You just let out a tired sigh before putting your bag on the floor and looking around the room. It was small but cozy. Even the view from the window wasn't bad, certainly better than in your own apartment.

“What's your name again?” you suddenly heard a deep growl and you quickly flinched as you quickly turned towards the voice. Logan was leaning against the doorframe, his hands wrapped around his chest, his biceps nearly tearing through the soft fabric he was wearing.You swallowed before looking into his face again and began to speak.

“Y/N…yours is Logan right? you tried to be nice again, thinking that the beginning was just a misunderstanding. God you are so pathetic. “Guess” he replied arrogantly and you pursed your lips into a thin line as embarrassment flooded your entire body.

"'kay...well it's kinda late, I'll go prepare some food" you informed him and Logan just nodded before walking off to who knows where. You were relieved when he left. As if his presence made you nervous, but not because of fear, but rather because of another feeling that you couldn't quite describe.

You came to the kitchen and started to assemble the ingredients on the counter. You decided to make spaghetti since that was the only thing they had all the ingredients for and looking around the fridge made you want to buy more stuff tomorrow. Apart from milk, some old rotting food and beer, they had nothing at all, men.

When you were almost done with the spaghetti, it was as if the smell summoned Logan without you having to say anything. He suddenly appeared in the kitchen watching you put spaghetti on two plates and pour tomato sauce over them. “I hope you like spaghetti” you said looking at Logan who surprisingly wasn't looking at the food like you thought, but at you. That caught you off guard a bit but not for too long.

"Mhm yeah" he said and immediately grabbed the plate when you finally added the basil leaves. Why are you even trying to decorate the food, you are not in a fancy restaurant here, but at Wade’s home. You just rolled your eyes and put noodles on your own plate. Logan's hungry chewing was making your ears pop and you couldn't wait to enjoy your dinner in quiet in your room.

No sooner had you added the spaghetti to your plate and decided to go into your room to eat, than Logan was already done with his food and obediently put the plate in the sink. Your eyes widened, Wade was right, this man eats like a beast.

"Do you want more?" he just shook his head as he wiped his red mouth with his hand and went straight into his own room. "m'kay" you whispered to yourself and since he left the living room, you decided to change your plan and eat while watching some TV.

This isn't so bad. If Logan answers with two words and doesn't have any long conversations with you where he just taunts you, 5 days will go by like nothing.

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Second day

You got up early because of the annoying alarm and went to get ready for work. You changed into comfortable but formal clothes, put on some make-up and took your bag. When you left the room, no one was there. You sighed with a smile and went straight to the front door.

Apparently Logan doesn't go to work, which you were a little envious of. He can sleep as long as he wants, then practically do whatever he wants for days, surely he must be a little bored if he's not saving the world.

"Where you're goin'?" you froze in a place when you heard Logan. You slowly turned around, and your eyes widened even more. He had nothing on than boxers, revealing his muscles, abs, and perfect body, which made your saliva fly from your lips.

You quickly wiped it off and looked back into his face. God he was hot. His hair was messy but fluffy, his face looked relaxed and tired but that stern look wasn't there anymore. "I- I am goin' to work" you answered with a shaky voice, for which you immediately cursed.

"What work?" his voice was also grainy and deep, he was literally hypnotizing you right now. "Why do you care?" you finally gain your confidence back and he rolled his eyes. "Geez just askin'" he went to the bathroom without saying bye or something like that. You didn't mind, the only thing that was bothering your brain was, why was he so interested?

Just yesterday he didn't want you here at all and now he's worried about you, that you'll leave him? You probably just overthinking. You took your keys and left the apartment as fast as you could.

When you arrived at the restaurant, your colleagues greeted you and you put on the fake mask with a smile. You changed into your suit and went to the kitchen to wash the dishes with the others.

"Hey everything okay? You look pretty frustrated" one of your colleagues asked and it took you a while to process his question. "What? Oh no it's nothing don't worry" you added a convincing smile at the end of the sentence and continued washing. Of course you're frustrated when you have nothing but Logan in your head, his body, his speech, his hair... this is going to be a fucking tough day.

When your shift ended, you were surprised you hadn't been fired. You were confused all day, mixing up orders, got in the way of your colleagues and even burned food a few times. Each of your colleagues asked you several times if everything was okay and you always gave the same answer. Yes, it is. You didn't understand it yourself, how could you be so stupid today and burn the food? This hasn't happened to you in at least 5 years...

All this happened because of your constant thoughts about Logan. You don't even know how it's possible. After all, he's Logan, the guy you were afraid of and would do anything to avoid him...but that was before you've seen him shirtless in boxers. God those thighs, just thinking about them makes your core vibrate.

Frustrated, devastated and tired, you arrived at your temporary apartment, threw your bag on the floor and leaned against the door with your eyes closed. "Tough day?" you hear that annoying but really sexy voice again, but this time it wasn't in your head.

You open your eyes and saw Logan, sitting on the couch with a can of beer, at least this time he was fully dressed. You didn't even have the strength to answer him with words, you just nodded your head. After that you crawled into your room where you had to clear your head for a while, you laid in bed and just stared at the ceiling.

After a while you heard footsteps, but luckily they crossed your room. Was it really fortunate, or rather unfortunately? Your head was a total mess. Now you could use a hot bath with rose petals and a candle around. This actually didn't sound bad at all, so you decided to indulge.

You got out of bed and went straight to the bathroom where you filled the bath and let out a tired sigh. You probably won't have rose petals and candles, but the bathtub is more than enough. You closed the door, not even bothering about locking it, and took off your clothes. When the water was almost full, you turned the water off and lay down in it, a pleasant growl left your mouth, when the hot water covers all your body. You feel more relaxed than ever.

You closed your eyes and in the blink of an eye, all of your fails today and thoughts of Logan were gone. You listened to the water and the silence around you which was more pleasant than ever before. You felt like you were going to fall asleep in no time, this was exactly what you needed. Until you heard the door slam open.

You flinched and immediately looked at them in fear. Logan eyes widened a bit, when he saw you in the bathtub, but after that one second look he looked down immediately, embarrassed. "Sorry" he said and left the bathroom before you could react in any way.

You were shocked, did Logan really think you wouldn't notice the quick check out before he looks down? Well, now you will definitely not stop thinking about him and it's all your fault. If you'd just locked the stupid door, this wouldn't have happened.

You came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel holding your clothes in your hand. You got another jumpscare when Logan was standing by the bathroom, leaning against the wall. How long was he there? Was he waiting for you or was he eavesdropping on you? You had so many questions but so little time.

"Hey um sorry for that" he didn't even look you in the eyes, apparently he's really sorry. "It's fine just, did you see anything?" Logan took a deep breath and looked into your eyes, giving you a clear sign that he saw something. "Oh my god-" you slammed your hand against your forehead and started flushing.

"Not everything! Just um..." "Stop. Just, act like it didn't happen okay?" you were even more frustrated than before and Logan could tell. He just nodded and walked around you to get into the bathroom. You cursed under your breath and walked into your room, where you finally locked the door and fell into bed.

Is it some kind of sign or bad karma that this is happening to you? First you see him almost naked, then he sees you, why do you deserve this? But the question that really played over and over in your head was, did he like what he saw?

He would have covered his eyes or closed the door immediately, but he just stood there watching you for a while longer. Maybe he was in shock, just like you, and you're overthinking again, or maybe not…

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Third day

You got up in the morning like you always did, did your morning routine and left for work, this time no Logan, no comments from him and it made you feel better. You knew that today was going to be a lot better than yesterday.

You didn't even have to put on a fake mask at work, you smiled for real because you had peace of mind from Logan both in your head and in the apartment in the morning. "Hey why so happy?" your colleague asked and you just shook your head. "I just slept well" which was not entirely true.

You couldn't stop thinking about that motherfucker all night. The way he looked when he saw you in that bathtub, how embarrassed he felt but also looked shy, which you would never say to such a tough guy. How he talks to you much more warmly now and how he even washes his dishes without you telling him to do it. You even had a dream about him that wasn't exactly innocent with rainbows and roses, rather the opposite. But that didn't stop you from having a bad day at work. Until you heard the familiar grumpy voice again.

"Is she here?!" "Sir, you can't talk to her right now-" "I just want to know if she works here!" oh no. You heard the angry punch into the table and knew you had to intervene. You stopped working and went from the kitchen to the restaurant behind the cash register, where was none other than the ass Logan. When he saw you, he immediately calmed down and straightened up.

"Hey, what's going on here?" you asked confused, trying to ignore Logan as best you could. "Um this gentleman is asking for you, is he your boyfriend?" "Fuck no!" you shouted, maybe a bit too much then was a necessary and looked at Logan. "The fuck you doin' here?!" this time you keep your voice low but still rough. Logan took a breath to speak but before he could, you grabbed him and went to the corner, so you won't bother the other customers.

"I um" you were surprised that he was out of words. "Goddammit just tell me!" "I was just curious where you workin' okay?! That's all..." although you haven't known Logan very long and well, you could tell he was lying. However, you didn't have time to investigate the truth so you just let out an annoyed breath.

"You can't be that aggressive here! If you don't order anything, get out!" and with those words you left him behind while walking back into the kitchen. Not gonna lie but you felt a little confident when you did this but you also felt a little guilty.

You are not the aggressive bad type like him, you find sympathy in people and you are a peaceful person who tries not to have a conflict with almost anyone. Logan is a really tough piece.

"Everything fine?" you coworker asked while frying some vegetables and you just nodded. How could you be so naive to think you'd slip through today without a single thought about Logan? You really are pathetic.

When you finished your last order, said goodbye to your colleagues and went to change clothes, fatigue hit you again. Today was better than yesterday, you were more focused and you didn't burn anything, but you still weren't yourself. You were still consumed by your thoughts and memories that your brain repeated over and over again, it was driving you crazy.

The only thing you hoped for now was that last night and the incident with Logan wouldn't happen again. You still can't tell if you liked it or not, but what you know for sure is that you can't stop thinking about that.

You left the kitchen ready to go home until you saw Logan sitting in one of the dining booths, alone, half asleep. He scared you again, like always, and you didn't know what to do, how to react, or what to say. When Logan saw you, he immediately stood up and was like a fresh fish.

"You're done?" he asked, like it wasn't weird at all that he is there sitting and waiting for you like your dad. "W-what are you doing here?" "I was waiting..." he didn't finish the sentence but he clearly meant that he was waiting for you. "Why?" you furrow your eyebrows in suspicion.

"It's pretty dark out there, something may happen" why is he so caring suddenly? Was he really waiting for you here all day, just to give you a walk home? Why? "I've been walking in the dark for years Logan and nothing happened to me" you informed him arrogantly and headed for the exit. Logan chased you like an obedient dog. "You never know" he added and quickly held the door for you like a true gentleman. You paused at his act for a moment before walking out and Logan following.

It was an awkward silent walk next to each other where you said so much but nothing at all. The street was quiet, hardly any cars passed by, and the glowing lamps around gave a pleasant atmosphere. You felt good, and maybe Logan's presence added something to that. After all, you were afraid to walk alone in the evening, even though nothing had happened to you yet, but with him you felt different, safe.

"What's for dinner?" Logan finally broke the quiet silence and struck up a conversation. "Oh um I don't know...maybe salad? If you don't mind there won't be any meat in it" Logan chuckled, hearing that laugh make your heart a little warmer. "Salad sound's good" he said as you arrive at the building.

When you got into the apartment you expected Logan to go take a shower or lock himself in his room like he always did, but this time was different. When you took off your coat and hung it on the hanger, Logan was standing in the kitchen waiting for you. You raise an eyebrow and throw a confused look at him. "You're that excited for the food or?" he shook his head and smiled. That's right, he smiled. You had no idea when did his tough-guy personality snap, but he is way nicer to you and you can't say you don't like it.

"Nope, I was thinking that I could help you..." you froze and just stared at him, still with that raised eyebrow. You were shocked, you didn't recognize him anymore. Logan notices your behavior, immediately having regrets. "but only if you want to-" "No! I mean yeah s-sure" you finally woke up and walked around Logan to get things ready. However, you couldn't escape the smirk that formed on your face.

As you pulled out the bowls and cutlery, you felt Logan's presence behind you. He was huge compared to you, covering you completely and you almost held your breath when you felt him almost touching your body. "What should I do?" he asked, his voice grainy, deep and low like a wolf, making you tremble from excitement.

You needed a second to answer him without any mistake or stuttering. “You can take the vegetables out of the fridge” you pointed your head at the fridge next to you and without a word Logan did as you told him. He put everything on the counter next to you and you couldn't help but watch his hands, how big and hairy they were and a lot of scenarios automatically appeared in your head of what you would like him to do to you with them.

"That's all we have" he breathed out and finally stood next to you, so that his dick wasn't touching your ass anymore. "That's fine, we can make something from that" you grabbed the cucumber and started removing the wrapper. Logan was watching you, really carefully and constantly watching your hand, the way you were holding that cucumber, the way you were taking off the wrapper, god he immediately started getting goosebumps and his dick started twitching in his pants.

"Give me a sec" he said quickly and left. You looked at him confused and flinched a bit when you heard the bathroom door slam. You just shrugged and continued to unwrap the cucumber. He probably just went to piss or something.

After you had almost half the vegetables cut to a small squares and thrown in a bowl, Logan finally returned. "Finally, I was thinking you ran away" Logan just chuckled awkwardly but said nothing. He watched you cut the pepper and finally decided to help you.

He took another pepper and a knife and started cutting it on the table. You didn't really care if he destroyed the table or not, it wasn't your kitchen after all. After you finished chopping all the vegetables, tossed the salad with the dressing, and Logan gave it a good toss, you were ready to feast.

You split the salad into two bowls, the same amount for each, and dipped a fork into it. Logan waited until you filled the second bowl as well, which was a little unusual as normally he would have already started eating and not even waiting for you.

Aftwr you take your bowl and Logan take his, you decided to go into the room to eat but Logan stopped you. "Hey I was thinking if you wanna watch a movie together?" again, his random nice behavior caught you by surprise. Where did the grumpy guy who literally didn't even want you in this apartment go? Apparently he's gone forever.

“Oh um…sure why not” you smiled and Logan went to sit on the couch where he was already holding the remote and selecting a movie. You obediently sat next to him, but at a sufficient distance so that you had enough space and it wasn't some kind of awkward, uncomfortable situation.

"Do you have any ideas?" he asked you as he kept switching between films. "Umm I don't know, I don't really care" you said as you finally took a bite of the salad, which was really fucking good. "Okay, you asked for it" he said and selected a horror movie called Evil Dead Rise. "Awh man this looks nasty" you said as you still chew the salad and scrunch your face in disgust. Logan just giggled and took his first bite too.

After a while watching the movie, you remembered that you are fucking scared of horrors. That film was chill at first, but after the first jump scare, you knew you are fucked. You tried to focus on the salad and not being some crybaby, but your fear got the better of you. When another jumpscare appeared, you almost throw you salad on the floor.

Logan, on the other hand, didn't move a single muscle the whole time watching. He was like a rock with a stern expression. The second he noticed your reaction, he had to look and intervene somehow. "Are you okay?" He asked and you just nodded, but your body said the opposite. You were shaking, wrapped in a ball and your eyes were bawling, the exact definition of a person being terrified to death.

Logan wasn't stupid and he knew you'd probably be peeing with fear in no time. That's why, regardless of the awkwardness of the situation, he scooted closer to you at first, seeing how you're gonna react. The closeness didn't bother you at all, so Logan put an arm around you, making you feel even safer.

"Is that 'kay?" he whispered in your ear, looking down at you while your eyes were securely locked with the TV. You nodded slightly and laid your head on his muscular chest, covered by gray shirt. It was comforting to hear his regular heartbeat. You felt amazing.

You don't even remember the last time you cuddle with someone like that. You don't care that it's Logan, all you focused on was the feeling. The way his body warmed yours, the way he made gentle circles with his finger on your shoulder and the way he breathed, these combinations made you forget about your fear.

After a while your eyelids started to feel heavy and you felt tiredness coming over you. But you were so comfortable that you didn't want to leave anywhere and that's why you succumbed to sleep really quickly on Logan's body.

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Fourth day

You grunted as rubbed your eyes. You lay in bed with your eyes closed for a while until you realized you had to go to work. Your eyes popped open and you sat on the bed as fast as you could. You looked around rashly, realizing you were in your room under the covers. But when you quickly checked the alarm clock, it was damn late. "Fuck!" you shouted and jumped from the bed like a lightning bolt.

You quickly started changing and getting ready for work, even though you were already 3 hours late. The whole time you were cursing under your breath and your heart was beating in the fastest way possible. If they don't fire you today, they never will.

After you were all ready you ran for your bag and went to the door. You've never gotten ready so quickly before. Suddenly you heard the door open and immidiately knew it was Logan. However, you didn't have time for his comments.

"Hey, what's going on?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. When you quickly glanced at him, he looked pretty tired, like he woke up just now. In addition, he had only boxers again, messy hair and his voice was so fucking rough. When you looked at him you felt a weird feeling in your stomach. "I'm late" you said as you were putting your shoes on. Logan was processing your answer for a bit before he spoke again.

"Oh, work..." he groaned as he realized what you were late for. You just ignore him and give him a quick goodbye before you closed the door and ran to the elevator.

As soon as you opened the door to the restaurant, you ran to the dressing room to change. You tried to be so fast but you were just clumsy and rash. Your chef's suit was crooked and not even all the buttons were on when you appeared in the kitchen, trying immediately blend in. "Oh there you are! Where have you been?" one of your colleagues asked, cutting vegetables next to you. You just shake your head.

"Long night" you sighed tiredly and cooperated with preparing the food. "You're lucky boss wasn't here, you would be cooked" you look at him as he said that and you both giggled at that stupid joke. "Go fuck yourself" you nudged him with your shoulder and shook your head. But he was right, you have much more luck than sense.

You spent last night in Logan's arms and after you woke up and put yourself back together, you realized that he carried you into your room. It's not his fault you overslept, it's yours.

You shouldn't have fallen asleep, you should have just gotten up, said good night and gone to set that stupid alarm clock. But whenever you remember the feeling of him caressing you, how comforting his chest was as a pillow, how his chest smoothly rose up and down, every time your knees got week and you feel that weird feeling in your stomach. You knew what that feeling was and you hated to admit it, but you catched feelings for Logan.

You can't stop thinking about him ever since the first day, you have unchristian dreams about him and you always catch yourself watching him for too long. You never thought you'd like a bad boy, but here we are.

When you were already cleaning the kitchen and getting ready to leave, you noticed a familiar person sitting in the restaurant as one of the last ones.

Your curiosity got the better of you and you peeked more into the restaurant. Of course that the familiar figure was Logan. Again, he didn't have anything ordered, he just sat quietly and stared into nothing. You couldn't help but smile at him when.

You went to change and said goodbye to the others as you headed for the exit. You pretended not to see Logan and ignored him until he instantly came up to you. "Hey, how was work?" he asked as he gentlemanly opened the door for you and waited. You felt your cheeks heat up and you had to look down.

"It was fine, except for the morning..." you chuckle nervously. "Yeah, were you too late?" he asked as he walked closer to the road making you back up a bit. Another discreet gentlemanly move. "3 hours late..." "Damn" his eyes widened as his mouth surprisingly twitches. "Yeah, but luckily I didn't get fired so" Logan laughed and nodded his head in agreement.

"Anyway, any ideas for dinner tonight?" Logan's efforts to keep the conversation going tickled your heart. "Mhmm honestly I don't know…how about pizza?" you looked up at his face waiting for reaction. "Like homemade pizza?" Logan looked into your eyes and you tried to hold eye contact as long as you could. “Of course duh” Logan smiled at your addition and nodded his head. "Sure why not"

You were slicing salami while Logan poured a ketchup mix over the pizza dough. "What about some music?" he asked, still focusing on the smearing. You stopped cutting and looked at him. "Music?" you asked, giving him a confused look. He nodded, looking at you too and when he saw your expression, he stopped his actions and went somewhere.

You were watching him, as he walked to the radio and pressed something on it until a song started playing. Your smile widened and you started laughing, when you saw Logan dancing. He was moving his hips awkwardly and you can see that he really can't dance. His danced moves could be compared to dad style in the 80s.

You needed to cover your mouth and hold your stomach, because the laughter started to hurt, but you couldn't stop. Logan looked at you and held out his hand in front of him as he approached you. You shook your head and almost collapsed on the ground laughing. "Come on!" he shook his hand, convincing you to join him.

After a lot of refusing and giggling, Logan finally convinced you to dance. When you grabbed his hand, he immediately took advantage of it and pulled you a little closer to his body. You squeal a bit at the sudden move, but you immediately cooperated.

You held each other's hands and did little circles with them as your legs scuttle back and forth. You laughed and squirmed, Logan spun you around from time to time and you enjoyed it as much as you could. This is one of those moments that sticks deep in your head. A memory that will always popped up, whenever you hear Logan.

The music pulsed softly through the air, a fast, intoxicating rhythm that seemed to wrap around you and Logan like a delicate thread, pulling you closer. You couldn’t help but glance up at him, your eyes locking for a heartbeat too long, and the intensity there sent a rush of heat to your cheeks.

You tried to focus on the steps, on the sway of the dance, but something about the way Logan’s body moved with yours was deeply distracting. His scent, clean and warm, enveloped you, making your pulse quicken in ways you couldn’t ignore.

Then, without warning, your leg caught the edge of his, and you stumbled, your balance suddenly thrown off. Logan’s arms shot out, catching you before you could fall, pulling you tightly against him to steady you. For a moment, everything seemed to stop, your breath, the world, even the music seemed to fade into the background as you realized just how close you were.

Your faces were mere inches apart, your lips almost brushing his. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, his gaze dropping to your mouth for just a fleeting second before meeting your eyes again. The air between you crackled with tension, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. Everything about this moment screamed for you to close that agonizingly small distance, to let yourself get lost in the magnetic pull between you.

Logan’s grip on you tightened ever so slightly, his chest rising and falling in sync with yours as he fought against the same urge. You could see it in his eyes, the desire, the restraint, the way he was holding himself back even though every inch of him seemed to be aching to close the gap. His gaze flickered down to your lips again, and this time, it lingered longer. You swallowed hard, your lips parting slightly, as if you were subconsciously inviting him to make the move.

For a moment, you both stood at the edge of temptation, teetering on that invisible line. Neither of you spoke, afraid that even a whisper might break the fragile tension and push you over the edge. Your bodies pressed together, heat pooling between you, your breaths shallow and in sync.

But then, something held both of you back. Maybe it was the weight of all that had led to this moment, the fear of crossing a line you couldn’t uncross, or maybe it was the unspoken agreement to savor this tension just a little longer. Neither of you moved, though the pull between you was undeniable. The space between your lips remained tantalizingly close, yet untouched.

“Close call,” he murmured, his voice a mixture of humor and the tension he was trying so hard to rein in.

You smiled, feeling your own pulse slowly return to normal, though the lingering heat of the moment still burned between you. “Too close,” you whispered back, your eyes holding his for a second longer before you reluctantly eased back, just enough to regain some space, some clarity.

“We should finish that” Logan gently let go of you and pointed his head to the half-done pizza in the kitchen. You nodded in agreement, still dazed from the situation that just happened and from the feelings you experienced. You were a little disoriented, just as Logan except, he could hid it better.

After you finished the pizza, the atmosphere wasn't so stiff anymore. Logan was telling funny stories about his past and you just laughed and tried not to get overwhelmed by his gorgeous face. Sometimes when you listened to Logan, the world slowed down and everything was black and white except for him. He shone like the brightest star in the darkness.

After enjoying dinner, cleaning the dishes together and saying good night, you couldn't even fall asleep. You couldn't shake the thought of Logan, that moment when your lips were so dangerously close and even though you didn't have any superpowers, you could feel that he wanted it just as much as you did.

Feeling his beard brushing against your soft skin, feeling his tongue inside your mouth, you could just dream about it. Also, tomorrow is the last day. You don't know if it's good or bad, you don't know if you're happy or just afraid, you don't know anything at all. After all, deep down in your head you had a soft spot and a longing for Logan.

Inwardly, you longed to spend a few more days with him, a few nights alone and see what would happen. This overthinking went too far, you kept your eyes open all night and stared at the ceiling, while outside the birds started whistling and sun rising.

It's here, the last morning in this bed, the last dinner with Logan, the last day.

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Fifth day

You stayed up all night, your stomach churning at the thought that today is final day. At the same time, you couldn't get that moment between you and Logan out of your mind, when just a milimeter was missing and your lips would be stuck together. The desire for Logan, the need to always have him with you and not let him go, was growing by every minute. His smell of cigarettes and scotch always tickled your olfactory cells. Every time you felt him, it was like your heart burst with excitement. But now you couldn't smell it, the only thing that tickled your nose was the steam from the food in restaurant.

"Hey, are you okay?" a colleague nudged your shoulder. "Huh? Yeah I am fine, I am fine..." you weren't fine. The thought of packing up your clothes today and moving back to your apartment, alone. That there will be no one here to hug and protect you while watching a horror movie, that no one will help you prepare dinner, these thoughts were pressing all the points to make you cry.

Despite all these emotions, you tried to keep yourself in check and continue working as if nothing happened, as if the world wasn't practically collapsing before your eyes. You tried to think positively and looked forward to Logan waiting for you again in one of the booths and escorting you to the apartment and making dinner together while talking.

When you finally finished your shift and said goodbye to the others, you walked out of the kitchen looking for Logan with hope in your eyes. Unfortunately, you couldn't find him anywhere. There was no one in the restaurant anymore and your positive thinking was gone. You went alone with gloomy face. This is last night and he just ignore you like that?

When you arrived at the apartment, upset, you were a little surprised to see Logan in the kitchen making dinner. He looked behind his shoulder and his corners lifted up a bit when he saw you. "Hey...sorry I didn't pick you up today, I was preparing dinner" he excused himself and your anger towards him was gone immediately.

Your face softened and your heart melted. He's also sad that it's the last night and he wanted to make it up to you somehow. He doesn't even have to say it with words.

"It's f-fine..." you said, still a bit shocked but more flattered. You walked up next to him, curious about what he is preparing. "Spaghetti?" you asked, even though you saw exactly what he was doing.

"Yeah, we had them on a first night, remember?" he looks at you and you chuckle at the memory. "Oh yeah, you were all grumpy and just took it" Logan scoffed and nodded. "Yeah..."

"Well, it'll be done in a bit, so do your stuff and then we'll go eat, hm?" you just nodded excitedly and fought the urge to kiss him on his cheek as a grateful gesture. You literally ran to your room, closed it and wanted to change into some comfortable clothes. The thing was that all your clothes were dirty and even when you tried really hard to find at least a one clean shirt, it was pointless.

You sat on the bed with a sigh and wondered what you were going to do. "Hey um I just go take a quick shower okay?" Logan burst into your room without knocking and you jumped a bit. He was gone before you could even answer him.

"Okay...." you whispered under your breath and immediately got an idea. You sneaked into Logan's room looking for his shirt. After all, he won't notice that you're wearing it, and if he does, you can explain it to him.

You didn't look long and saw a gray shirt thrown on the bed. You shrugged, grabbed it and walked out of his room into yours. You instantly stuck it to your nose and inhaled its scent. Cigarettes and scotch, oh the combination was sending waves of pleasure between your legs and you couldn't take it anymore. You quickly removed all your clothes and put on his shirt. It was huge on you, it touched your knees and you laugh.

You could still feel him as if he was with you, on top of you and that was exactly what you wanted. You laid down on the bed and closed your eyes, your brain immediately cooperating and starting to create million scenarios while you were still smelling him. The vibrating between your legs started being unbearable and you had to stop it somehow.

I slowly moved my hand to the fabric of Logan's shirt. I stopped between my legs and lifted the shirt up, a sigh left your lips as you felt the cold air touching your folds. Your hand moved down, your fingers slightly touching your folds, making gentle friction. Your moves were slow and sweet, just heating up before you started putting more pressure.

Your jaw fall open as you inserted one finger in, twirling inside and stretching your walls. You imagined that it was Logan's finger that worked a miracle, that filled you with emotions and the need to feel something inside you, to feel him inside you. You desperately tried to reach the sponge spot, that whenever you touch your head you go dizzy in a second.

You needed more, that's why you insert another finger inside you, moving in unison with your hips. You tried to catch up with your orgasm with gentle but eager sensations, Logan's images replayed in your head over and over and your sighs got louder and louder.

“Hey have you seen my gray T-shirt anywhere-“ Logan walked in, not bothering to knock. You gasped at the surprise and immediately covered yourself with a blanket. Logan weist was wrapped by a towel, making you even more wet at the sigh.

"Oh shit" he looked away embarrassed, but you were the one who should be. "What the hell is wrong with you? Why didn't you knock?" you asked, trying to wash off the embarrassment and replace it with anger.

Logan shook his head, still looking away from you. "Look I'm so sorry I was just looking for my T-shirt" "Well I don't have it so go check somewhere else" you said, your voice calm but your heart beat fast. Logan finally gains the confidence to look back at you, furrowing his eyebrows. "Wait, is that my T-shirt you're wearing?"

You tried to be as calm as possible. “What? No, why would I be wearing your shirt?” All your muscles were tense and you prayed that Logan wouldn't notice. “No that's definitely my shirt” he look at the piece that protruded from the blanket as his corner of his mouth lifted up a bit.

You quickly tried to hide more even tho you knew you were fucked. "No...it's not" Logan came closer to you. "Hey, stop tryna hide under the covers..." he grabbed the blanket and tried to pull it off of you, but as hard as you could try, he was much stronger than you.

"Let me just see it" after an unfair fight, Logan won and tore the blanket off you, revealing his shirt on your body. A devilish smile appeared on his face as he saw you. “So you are wearing my shirt” he narrowed his eyes and you started to panic.

“Yeah and what about it? It's the only clean thing I could find and it's comfortable” although you were telling the truth, it wasn't completely true, because deep down you know very well why you took his shirt. Logan chuckled at your answer and came even closer to you, standing right above you.

"So you're telling me it's just a coincidence that your hands are between your thighs wearing the same T-shirt I was just wearing?" oh you were so cooked. "It's not even like that..." you still tried to save it, but it was already too late. Logan giggled again, grabbing your chin, making you look up at him. "I'm not dumb, I know what you're doing"

Oh he was so freaking hot right now, and he knew it. "You're so fucking desperate" now there was nothing and no one to stop Logan in his way. He completely ripped the blanket off of you and got on the bed above you. In this moment you realize, all your desires are finally coming true.

He didn't hesitate for a second before pressing his lips to yours, aggressively and roughly. You immediately cooperated, your arms wrapping around his neck and your legs unintentionally removing Logan's towel as you wrapped your legs around his weist. You could immediately feel his length, making you whine a bit in the kisses.

Logan's hands were not docile and explored your body. He started from your thighs, continued under your t-shirt to your stomach and finally ended on your breasts, which he squeezed and massaged. You pulled out of the kiss, your eyes shut tightly as you sighed his name. Oh he loved the view he had right now. But he still needed more.

He attacked your neck with aggressive bites, leaving marks that will heal for a long time. "~Logan~" you moaned his name as you grabbed his fluffy hair and tugged them whenever he found that sensitive spot. You could feel his smile forming on his face, while sucking and licking your, now red neck.

Logan felt your wetness, your arousal. How he was grateful for those urgent instincts right now. He finally removed his teeth from your neck, but he definitely wasn't done with you. You opened your eyes as you watched him creeping down. His devilish smile not leaving his face for a second. The image of Logan's face between your legs drives you crazy and you couldn't wait to finally feel him. "You smell so fucking good kitty" he said before his lips leaned against your folds.

His hot breath on your bare core was sending shivers down your spine and you fight against every nerve in your body not to burst your hips into his face. He notices your desperate face and your shaking body, so he decides not to torture you anymore. He licked your fold, incredibly slowly but intensively, that you had to arch your back.

He repeated this move a few times, sucking all the wetness you could give him from the outside, before he burst his tongue inside you without any warning. You scream his name and pull his hair as his sudden move catches you off guard, making him chuckle.

His tongue was swirling inside you licking up all your juice, you were delicious. His nose was poking your sensitive clitoris, sending you even faster to your edge. Your hips were moving along his tongue, desperate for more friction and tried to reach your orgasm.

Logan stretched your walls even more, eating you like you were the best meat he had in years, his speed was unbelievable and the pleasure in you indescribable. You feel the tightening sensation in your lower abdomen and you knew you couldn't hold it in for long. You clenched around Logan's tongue, making it harder for him to continue, but he didn't stop. You tightly shut your eyes and throw your head back, as you almost pulled out some of Logan's hair.

He holds you firmly by your thighs, as your hips lose control and after few more twirl moves of his tongue inside you, the feeling of relief wash over your whole body, goosebombs appeared on your skin and your chest was rapidly rising and falling.

You smile, trying to catch your breath but your eyes were still shut. Logan climbed higher, he was now face to face. You felt his heavy breath against your cold nose, so you opened your eyes and smiled even more. Your juice glistened on Logan's beard and his hair messy, proof of your work.

He giggled as he saw your cheeks all red, your forehead sweaty and your hair destroyed, he loved what he was doing to you. "You're fucking beautiful princess" he said before he kissed you, giving you a taste of yourself. You loved the way he kissed. Hungry and furious kisses, but also sweet and gentle and si was his touch.

He explored you with his massive hands, his fingerprints all over your body. You looked really small in his hands, the sigh makes him even harder.

He couldn't get enough of you, he longed to hear you scream his name.

He quickly adjusted his hips and checked down, before he rammed into you, without any warning. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, as you felt his massive length inside you. The joke was, he wasn't even fully in yet.

You bite your lips, trying to be as quiet as you could but Logan didn't make it easier for you. He was inserting himself deeper, stretching your walls as far as they could go and he finally let out a big sigh, when he was balls deep in.

You felt so full, that every place inside you was now completely filled and there wasn't even room for air. You hold tightly Logan's neck and started making a blood mess on your lips as you dug into them with your teeth.

He chuckled and gave you a few hungry kisses, before backing up to get a good look at you. "Don't hold it in princess, let me hear you" his grainy voice tickles your eardrums and right before he finished this sentence, he started moving his hips. Just small smooth movements at first, he barely got out of you. Even though they were peaceful movements, it sent you sky high.

Your lips parted as you started leaving a quiet whispers and whimpers, barely heard but Logan heard them very well. Those pretty sounds of yours makes his mind go wild and he started gaining speed and strength in his hips.

Those smooth sweet movements? All gone in a second. They were fading into lustful, rough and uncontrollable thrusting, that makes those regular clapping sounds.

You rolled your eyes as he was hitting just the sponge wet spot inside you, you tried to desperately reach yourself before. "Hey, look at me" Logan growled through clenched teeth, and you with a bit of struggle manage to look at his focused face.

His hands find their way to your hips, keeping you in a place while he was pushing into you, desperately trying to catch up with his orgasm. He sat on his knees, looking at you from above, clearly showing who is dominant here.

You just seductively let him do anything with you he just wanted. You loved it, the feeling, the situation, the atmosphere, Logan. Everything together was sending you closer and closer to your edge. Sice you lost your hold spot when Logan sat down, your hands found the sheet around you and held them tight.

The wet sound started to permeate the whole room, after a while even the entire apartment. Your brain stopped controlling your body, which is why you started letting out loud moans and whimpers of Logan's name. It was pleassure to his ears.

He stopped counting how many times he imagined you like this, beneath him, fucking your soul out of you. How tears stream down your face and you beg for more as you scream his name. These thoughts and these dreams kept him awake and he himself is surprised that it took him so long to do this, to fuck you properly.

He feels that he is close and so were you. Another orgasm of the day was approaching very quickly, making your legs started vibrating. Logan growled, sigh softly, keeping his eyes on your face the entire time. Well, not the entire time, just a few times he checkedthe part where you were connected.

You started feeling that familiar urge to pee, while Logan's dick was twitching inside you, but not stopping hitting that juicy spot. You were over the edge now. You tried your best not to close your eyes and not release already, even though you knew it would come in any second. Logan also fought all the demons so he wouldn't cum into you and empty his balls, but he wouldn't last long either.

“Fuck” he huffed, dropping his head down while his hips lost control. His movements defied all laws of physics, the entire bed creaked with you and your entire body tensed.

"Logan I-" you couldn't even finish your though before you tightened around Logan, arch your back and close your eyes, finally letting the climax get you. Logan didn't stop, he couldn't, when he was so close to his orgasm too, his precum already mixing with your juice.

Logan felt it, he quickly leaned forward so his stomach was touching yours and he pressed his face into the pillow right next to your head as he thrust into you one last time with the most force. You moaned by his hit, still feeling dizzy from the recent orgasm. He growls like a wild animal as he cums into you, his fingers digging into your skin, definitely leaving bruises there.

You both breathe heavily, staying in this position for a bit. Your bodies were hot with sweat as you still processed the moment.

When your breathing finally calmed, Logan unhooked his face from the pillow and looked at you with a smile. "Don't look at me like that I look like a total mess..." you chuckle from embarrassment and close your eyes. "Said something bad about yourself again and you won't be able to walk for a month" your breath got caught up in your throat as you heard those words. He said that so casually.

"You're gorgeous" he added at the end and kissed you softly, calming your pulse and heartbeat down. After that he slowly pulled out of you, both groaning from the friction again and Logan collapsed next to you. You didn't wait and scooched yourself on Logans body, your leg laying on his while your head listening to those cute regular beats of his heart.

Logan immediately pulled you closer to his body and caressed your shoulder, making gentle circles on it. Your eyes were closed, trying to rest while being still full of the hormone of happiness. Your smile couldn't leave your face and neither could Logan's.

"What about the spaghetti?" you whisper softly, making Logan giggle. "They're probably cold now" he sigh, keep caressing your shoulder. You just grunted, too tired to answer that or even think of an answer. "Are you hungry?" Logan asked immediately with concern and you shook your head with a bit of burden. He relaxed after that and closed his eyes too. Both of you were tired and too lazy to get dressed.

"Would you look at that!" Suddenly you heard another male voice, this one was annoying and quite provocative. You both knew who it was right away. You quickly jerked away from each other when you looked at the door. Wade was leaning against the doorframe, his hands crossed on his chest and his smile was so fucking annoying.

You and Logan were frozen in shock, not knowing what to say or how to even react. "You take the 'take care of him' a bit seriously, don't you think?" you tried to defend yourself, explain it somehow, but you can't get out of this situation.

"Get out" Logan growled sternly but it didn't scare Wade at all. "Wow I mean damn I...I don't really know what to say-" "GET THE FUCK OUT!" Logan screamed this time, even you got goosebumps when you heard him. That already took its toll on Wade. "Okay okay chill...I'm just happy for you guys" he slowly closed the door but right before the end, he quickly opened them again.

"How many rounds did you have?" "GET OUT!" you both scream in union and Wade finally closes the door fully, leaving you two in a very uncomfortable situation.

You slowly looked at Logan and he did the same, but your staring contest broke as you both burst out laughing. You didn't know if it was the adrenaline you still had in your blood, or just a copy mechanism when something really embarrassing happened, either that you were crying from laughing, still laying next to each other, still naked and still in love with each other.

No one warned you that these five days would be the best of your life.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

[imaginedisish]

Dare (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey guys. Just wanted to say thank you for all the support I got this morning. All of your comments really warmed my heart. Thank you so, so, so much. I ended up getting this done pretty fast. Went with "Dare" by Gorillaz for the title. Made me feel better to write. I like this one. Hope you do, too. Enjoy!

Summary: Logan finds out you've never been eaten out while playing a game of "Truth or Dare," and he's more than willing to change that.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT!!! Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, softdom!Logan, pussydrunk!Logan (he does not let up, he is starving for you), older!Logan, implied aged gap (reader is in her 20s/old enough to teach at the institute), cocky!Logan, he is an absolute service dom in this, friends to lovers, mentions of mental health/self worth, fluff, some hurt to comfort, some angst, afab/fem!reader, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 4,235 wowza didn't expect that and oh my god this gif

You’re lying on your floor—the door to your room wide open. Everyone is out anyway. It’s Friday night at the mansion—no one will see you like this. Students’ papers are scattered around you. You stare up at the ceiling, feeling choked up. It had been a bad day��a bad week. Maybe even a bad year. You feel like you’re slipping, losing yourself. 

Teaching the older students had become beyond challenging—possibly because you aren’t much older than them in the first place. Most days, it felt like everyone expected greatness from you, given the strength of your powers, which naturally comes with responsibility, and that can be incredibly overwhelming. It had all been—if you were being brutally honest—an absolutely terrible time. 

So, you’re lying on your floor, feeling numb. You stopped grading papers at least an hour ago, and simply decided to stare at the ceiling, your head spinning. You wanted to calm the noise, to take a breather. Luckily, you’re alone—everyone is on a mission or out given that it’s Friday night. 

Or so you thought. 

“What on Earth are you doing?” A familiar voice cuts through the silence like a knife, jarring you, and forcing you to look up. And there he is, in a white t-shirt and denim jeans, arms crossed tightly against his chest, leaning in the doorway. Logan. You want to roll your eyes at how good he looks. You want to slap yourself for thinking it in the first place.

He smirks at you, his brows furrowed playfully. You let your head fall back to the floor. “Grading papers,” you mutter. You can hear his footsteps as he walks into the room, drawing closer to you. 

“Doesn’t look like you’re grading papers to me,” he teases. You can hear the smile in his voice. “Why aren’t you out with Jean or Rogue?” 

He stands next to you, and you look up at him. “Didn’t feel like it,” you mumble, forcing yourself to sit up. You draw your knees into your chest. You decide to turn the question around on him. “Why aren’t you out?”

He sits down next to you, stretching his long legs in front of him, his shoulder bumping against yours as he settles in. He shrugs. “Somebody’s gotta keep an eye on you, right?” He jokes, nudging his elbow into your arm. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. It’s impossible to fight it when he’s next to you. Your eyes meet his, and his smile quickly turns into something else—concern. “You’ve been off lately.”

You swallow harshly. “Did Jean or Rogue say something?” You ask. They’d notice, maybe they told Logan. “Did they ask you to stay with me or something?”

But Logan shakes his head. “No. I could just tell,” he says, worry clear in his voice. “Thought I’d hang back with you. All my idea.” He tilts his head, his jaw working, his brows furrowing again. “Is something going on?” 

You take a deep breath, turning away from him. You’re suddenly overwhelmed by his presence, by his kindness and his care. He stayed home for you. “I’m okay,” you mutter, avoiding the truth. 

“Hey,” Logan whispers, tentatively reaching his hand to your knee, waiting for you to shove him away. His palm is warm against your skin, calming and stabilizing. You turn back to look at him, his brows raised incredulously. “I know that’s not true,” he says. He has always been able to read you like a book. “What’s going on?”

You swallow harshly. “I’ve just been having a tough time lately,” you say, distracted by the way his thumb brushes across your knee. “I…” You trail off, letting your eyes fall closed. “Things are hard.”

“You can talk about it if you want,” he says, his voice deep and steady. “I’m here.” 

You sniffle, struggling to keep yourself in check. “I just…” you pause, looking off to the side. “Everything sucks.” You take another deep breath. “And the students are so hard.” You point to the piles of papers scattered around your floor. “And then there’s me, and all my shit. My powers. The responsibilities we have. I’m young, and I’m still learning. And fuck, Logan, this all just feels so impossible sometimes. It…it…” You trail off, finally running out of words, out of steam.

“It hurts.” He finishes your sentence, taking the words right out of your mouth. You turn back towards him, your eyes instantly meeting his. “It hurts a lot.”

You nod. “Yeah, exactly.” He squeezes your knee comfortingly. “You get it,” you murmur. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he soothes, his hand lifting off your knee, his arm wrapping around your shoulder instead. “I’ve got you.” You let yourself lean into his touch, resting your head in the crook of his neck. “Let’s take your mind off things, yeah?”

You nod against him, not wanting to move away, not wanting to separate from him. He feels so nice, so solid. “What did you have in mind?” You ask, hoping it doesn’t involve getting up.

“Wanna play a game?” He offers, turning his head to look down at you. You smile widely, almost mockingly. “What?” He chides. “You think I don’t know how to have fun?”

You laugh softly. “I just don’t see you as a game guy, Lo,” you confess. He chuckles, and you can feel his laughter reverberating through his chest. “Can you even think of one to play?”

Logan’s still laughing, shaking his head. “What about truth or dare?” He ever so slightly pulls you in closer, his lips pressed against the side of your head. 

You giggle, feeling light for the first time in a long time. “Are we in seventh grade?” You ask teasingly. You felt like a teenager, honestly—being next to Logan always made you feel like a love-sick schoolgirl. But you know you and him could never be. You were younger than Logan—everyone was—but you, being in your 20s, assume that Logan doesn’t see you the way you see him. 

He just shakes his head and laughs, pulling you back to reality. “Truth or dare?” He asks, ignoring your middle school comment and officially starting the game. 

You don’t want to get up, don’t want to move an inch, so you answer: “Truth,” hoping it isn’t anything too crazy. 

Logan thinks for a second, his head resting on yours. “Why’d you pick truth instead of dare?” He finally asks. 

You roll your eyes. “Boring!” You tease. “I only picked it because I don’t feel like moving.” And then you realize…perhaps your answer is more revealing than you previously considered. Your heart thunders in your chest. 

Logan hums. “And why don’t you want to move, exactly?” He’s onto you. 

“You asked your question, you got an answer,” you protest, trying to shut him down. “No follow-up questions.” It’s your turn now. “Truth or dare?” You ask. 

“Truth,” he says. “Because maybe I don’t feel like moving either.”

You smile, and you can feel him looking down at you. You’re too nervous to meet his gaze. You think for a moment, racking your brain for a question. “Did you really stay home for me, and was it all your own idea?” You finally ask. You regret the question almost immediately, fearful of the honest answer. 

“Yes,” he responds without a beat. “Jean said you were staying in, and said she didn’t know why, so I stayed too.” He pauses, and you can hear his steady breathing amidst the silence. “I was worried, princess.” The pet name burns a hole through your heart. “Needed to know that you were okay.”

You can feel tears building behind your sinuses. “Thank you, Lo,” you whisper. “That means a lot.”

He presses the ghost of a kiss to the crown of your head—almost not quite there. But you can feel it, hesitant and tentative. “It’s nothing, no need to thank me.” You finally find the courage to look up at him and find him smiling down at you. His lips part. “Truth or dare?” He asks again. 

You can feel some sort of tension brewing, building, thick and heavy. You try to ignore it, try to brush it off. Your heart hammers in your chest. “Truth,” you pick again. “But get a little more creative this time.”

He pauses, the gears in his head turning. And then finally: “Why’s your heart beating so fast? It’s loud, too.” 

Your eyes widen, suddenly remembering Logan’s heightened senses. He can hear everything. “Uh…” You trail off, not sure how to get out of this. “I-It’s not…”

He laughs. “You’re a terrible liar. You know that?” His voice is deep and honeyed, smooth. “You gotta answer the question, or I get to ask another.”

“Those are not the rules!” You protest, lifting your head to look at him. He’s got that shit-eating grin on his face, the one that makes your stomach drop. 

He tugs you into his chest again, his lips at the shell of your ear. “Then answer the question,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin, sending a chill down your spine. He’s so close. Too close. Your heart is only beating faster, louder now. 

“I don’t know,” you whisper. But of course, you know. It’s all because of him. “Just anxious, I guess.” It’s a half-truth—you’re certainly nervous, but you can’t bring yourself to tell him why. 

“No need to be nervous, sweetheart,” Logan coos, his thumb brushing circles into your shoulder. “It’s just me.”

Yes, exactly, you want to say. It’s you. But you don’t. You try to steady your breathing, try to calm down. “My turn,” you force yourself to say. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” he says darkly. “And make it good.” You can hear the cockiness in his voice—a sudden shift in his tone. 

“We should just call this truth or truth,” you say, mulling over a question in your mind. It’s hard to think with him this close—hard to breathe. You want to rile him up, to find out what makes him tick—to make him itch the way he makes you. And then it hits you: the perfect question. “When was the last time you…” You stop yourself, suddenly too nervous to ask. 

“When was the last time I what, darlin’?” He asks, cocking his head to the side, raising his eyebrows. 

You huff. You’ve fallen into your own trap. There’s no backing out now. “When was the last time…” You pause again, biting your lip. You close your eyes. “…somebody got you off?” 

“Been a while,” he says simply. Your eyes flutter open, and Logan is completely relaxed, his eyes trained on you. He isn’t annoyed. He’s unbothered, unprovoked, as if you had asked him what the weather was going to be like tomorrow. “But it depends on how you mean. So, what do you mean?” He finishes. 

You’re slightly frustrated by how easy it was for him to answer. “I don’t know,” you mutter, shrugging your shoulders. “Whatever the last time was.”

“Few years back, not particularly proud of it,” he huffs. “Girl took care of me in a bar. That was it.” 

You nod. “Must’ve been nice,” you whisper, suddenly feeling a bit disheartened. You catch his drift; you know it didn’t mean anything. You likely didn’t know Logan at that time, having only arrived at the Institute two years ago. You know you shouldn’t feel jealous, shouldn’t care that he was ever with someone else, even for a fleeting moment. You’ve had boyfriends. You’ve been with other people. 

“It was fine. Just a blowjob.” He says it nonchalantly. “Didn’t mean a thing.” You look straight ahead, waiting for him to elaborate. But he doesn’t. “Truth or dare?” He finally asks. 

“Truth.” Your fake, plastered-on smile becomes real when his eyes meet yours. It’s just what happens when you look at him. “And make it interesting.”

The corner of his mouth turns up slyly, and you know he has something up his sleeve. “When was the last time somebody did that to you?” He asks. 

You cock your head to the side. “What do you mean?” But you already know exactly what he’s asking. And you desperately do not want to give him the answer.

“Got you off, like that,” he husks. “With their mouth.”

Fuck. “Uh…” You trail off. You can feel heat spreading across your chest and up your neck, your skin prickling. “Never,” you say honestly. 

“What?” Logan’s voice cuts through the tension like a knife. “Never?”

You’re suddenly embarrassed. Your skin feels tight—so do your shorts and tank top. “Never,” you repeat, looking down at your knees, still pulled in tightly to your chest. Your heart beats rapidly. “Just hasn’t happened yet,” you choke out. “I’ve been with people, but…”

“Hey,” he whispers, suddenly grabbing your chin and angling you up to face him. “It’s okay,” he soothes. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, princess.”

You smile shyly, reveling in his touch. “You didn’t,” you insist honestly. “Just a little embarrassed.”

Logan shakes his head, his eyes softening. “Nothing to be embarrassed about,” he assures. “You deserve to be taken care of.” His hand slides across your jaw and cups the back of your neck. “Deserve to feel good.”

Your eyes flutter closed at his touch. “Lo,” you whisper, struggling to keep your composure. Heat pools between your thighs. “Tr-truth or dare.”

His forehead presses to yours. “I think we’re done with the game, pretty girl,” he rasps, the arm around your shoulder slipping down to your waist. “Unless I get to give you a dare this time.”

“What’s the dare?” You ask, your eyes fluttering back open. His lips are so close. Your noses touch softly.

He works his jaw, licking his lips. “Let me eat you out, pretty girl,” he pants, his chest heaving against yours. “Let me take care of you like you should’ve been already.” He hates the idea that you’ve never been touched properly, the idea that those younger guys didn’t know how to treat you right. But he can fix that. He can make you feel good.

“Fuck,” you curse, his breath fanning across your lips. “A-are you sure?” You ask. “I don’t want you to do it just because you feel bad for me or—” “You think that’s what this is about?” He cuts you off, pulling you closer so that your body faces his, your thighs slotting together like puzzle pieces. “You think I want this just because I feel bad for you?”

“Well…” You search his eyes. “Yes,” you say. 

Logan’s face falls, and he shakes his head. “I want you, pretty girl,” he pants, his knee rubbing against your aching core. “Wanted you this whole time.” His palm presses firmly against your back, his other hand gripping your neck tighter. He wants, no, needs you closer. “You ruined me the second I saw you. Haven’t been with anyone since then.”

“Logan,” you whisper, bringing your hands up to his neck. “I want you too. Always have,” you confess.

He smiles, his lips pressing a chaste kiss to yours. “Then let me do this for you,” he rasps, almost begging, like he needs this more than you do. “Need to make you feel good, beautiful.” “Please,” you breathe. “Want you so bad, Lo.”

He curses under his breath, his lips capturing yours, harder this time. This kiss is starving, all-consuming. His tongue swipes across your lower lip, and you open your mouth, inviting him inside. He lowers you down carefully, sure not to break the kiss, guiding your back to the wood floor below. 

His thighs rest on either side of your hips as he hovers over you, bracing himself with his forearm. His free hand trails up your body, exploring your curves, hiking your shirt above your breasts. He smirks against your lips at the realization that you have no bra on. 

“Look at you,” he mumbles, rolling a nipple under his thumb, palming your breast. “Fucking perfect.” His fingertips drag to the other side, massaging you gently, taking your nipple between his thumb and forefinger and pinching softly. “Can smell you, you know,” he grunts. “Know you’re soaking for me, darlin’.”

His hand slides between the valley of your breasts, trailing down your stomach, until his fingertips bump into the waistband of your panties. He hesitates, looking down at you, waiting for you to change your mind, to tell him to stop. “Please,” you beg. “Need you, Lo.”

Logan smirks, his hand slipping under the hem of your shorts and inside your panties. “Love it when you call me that, sweetheart,” he groans. His fingertips flick your clit gently before finding your folds, feeling your arousal. “Barely even touched you,” he tuts. “And she’s already crying for me.”

He prods your entrance, spreading your slick, teasing you. He bites your lips, sucking so hard he might bruise—might draw blood—and you hope he does. You want proof that he was here, proof that he wants you—needs you this badly. You moan as his fingers find your clit again, drawing a few soft circles before pulling away, his hand slipping out of your shorts. 

You grab his biceps needily, impatiently, your nails digging into his skin. “Don’t stop,” you cry out. “Please, Logan.” 

He swallows your moans with another kiss, his lips trailing down to your jaw, then your neck—that sensitive spot just under your ear. “Don’t worry, pretty girl,” he soothes, biting down on your pulse point, licking the hollow of your throat. “Don’t think I could stop if I tried.” He nips at your collarbone, shoving your tank top further up your chest as his lips drag down the valley of your breasts. 

He kisses his way to your stomach, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down your legs. His palms spread across your inner thighs, yanking them apart. He settles between them, his face just inches from your heat. He presses a chaste kiss to your clit, still all too clothed, hidden behind your panties. 

“Lo,” you whine. He breathes you in, pressing another kiss to your clit. He digs his fingers into the hem of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. 

“Wanna take my time with you, sweetheart,” he grunts, finally throwing your panties to the side. He spreads your legs wider, his face settling back between your thighs. You can feel his breath against your cunt, warm and teasing. “Wanna take care of you.” His lips finally find your clit again, and he licks at you. 

His tongue is soft, warm, wet. He laps at you again, harder this time, and you moan his name. “Fuck,” you curse as he licks a long stripe through your folds and back up to your clit, flicking the bud. Your legs twitch, your hips backing away involuntarily at the newfound pleasure. Logan’s hands slide under your ass, yanking you back to his face. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” He mumbles teasingly against you, the vibration of his deep, bassy voice rocking your core. “Not letting you go until I’m done with you, darlin’.”

You curse under your breath as he licks another long, slow stripe through your folds before settling on your clit. His tongue draws gentle circles around the bud, and you can’t hold back the loud moan that falls from your lips. 

“Yeah?” Logan husks between laps. “Feels good, pretty girl?”

“Y-yes,” you stammer, looking down at Logan, his face buried against your cunt. His eyes are trained on yours, watching your every move, taking in the way you’re squirming for him. “D-didn’t know it would feel this good, Lo.”

“Gonna try something, okay?” He says, his eyes searching yours. You nod emphatically, bracing yourself. His lips wrap around your clit, his teeth lightly grazing the bud as he pulls it into his mouth. And then he sucks, hard. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, your back arching off the floor.

He releases the bud, and does it again, sucking harder this time. Tears brim at the corners of your eyes, pleasure coursing through your veins. “Logan!” You cry out, your nails digging into the floor below, searching for purchase. “Fuck!” He laps at you soothingly, drawing tighter, faster circles around your clit. 

“You okay?” He coos between laps, his tongue swirling rapidly. 

You swallow, meeting his gaze again. The sight of him between your legs, working your clit, his hair a disheveled mess—it’s overwhelming. “Yeah,” you heave. “More than okay.”

He smirks against you and wraps his lips around your clit again, sucking on the bud like hard candy. His right hand slides out from under your ass, trailing up your inner thigh. Your heart thunders in your chest as his fingertips find your folds, spreading your slick, your walls clenching down around nothing. 

“Know you need ‘em, pretty girl,” Logan croons, two fingers nudging your entrance. “Beg for it.”

But he’s sucking on your clit again, making it impossible to say a word. You whimper, your legs trembling. “P-please,” you stutter, choking on air. “Need…” You trail off, your eyes fluttering closed. You swallow harshly. “Need your fingers, Lo,” you finally manage. 

“That’s a good girl,” he praises, shoving two fingers deep inside you, down to his knuckles. 

“Fuck, thank you,” you whine, moaning his name as his fingers stretch you out. You suddenly feel so full, so warm, so close. He pulls out, only to plunge back in, deeper this time. He’s lapping at you with reckless abandon—a man starved, like you’re the air he needs to breathe. Your walls flutter around him, the liquid heat in your lower belly threatening to burst. 

“Tastes so good,” Logan mumbles against you, his long, thick fingers thrusting in and out. He hits that sweet spot deep inside you with every pump. “Such a sweet little pussy. Tastes better than I imagined.” You’re crumbling underneath him. His words alone might push you over the edge. “Nothing compares to you, you know that?”

Your walls flutter again, his fingers sinking deeper inside you. “You like that?” Logan husks. “Like knowing how much I want you? How much I need you?”

“Yes,” you groan, his fingers fucking into you, faster now. His teeth graze your clit as he pulls the bud back into his mouth and sucks roughly. “N-need you, too. Always.” 

“I know, pretty girl,” he soothes, scissoring inside you, dragging along your walls. He laps at you, his tongue stroking your clit. “Not going anywhere. I’ve got you.”

You curse under your breath. You can feel yourself melting, your walls contracting and releasing. “Lo,” you call. “I’m so close. Wanna…” You trail off, unable to finish. 

“Can feel you squeezing me, sweetheart,” he breathes. “Don’t hold back. Let it happen,” he coaches, rocking into you. “Wanna taste you, wanna feel you come on my fingers.” He laps at you between sentences. “Come for me. Know you can do it.” And then everything is white-hot and blazing.

It’s earth-shattering—better than anything has ever felt before. The tension snaps, heat boiling under your skin. Everything is blurry, hazy, dizzied as you let go, and let go hard. You cry out Logan’s name, your thighs shaking as waves of pleasure drag you under. Your bones are burning, scorching. Everything is on fire—overwhelming and greedily all-consuming. 

Logan’s pumps slow, and he carefully pulls out of you. He laves at you, his tongue pushing through your folds, milking you dry, savoring every last drop. 

“Logan,” you whisper, your hands reaching down to his head, digging your fingers into his scalp. 

He hums against you, unwavering as his tongue laps at your folds, tasting your release. 

You’re still shaking, still coming down from your high. “Logan,” you call again, and he looks up this time, lifting his face from your cunt. Your release glistens on his chin, and he licks his lips clean of you. His eyes are dark, his palms squeezing your thighs possessively. 

“I’m not done yet, sweetheart,” he says, demand clear in his voice. 

Your heart flutters in your chest as he climbs up your body, hovering over you again. His lips find yours. “You taste that?” He mumbles, kissing you again, harder this time. “You taste how sweet you are?”

“Y-yes,” you answer, his hand sliding down your body, slipping between your legs, finding your overstimulated clit. 

He pinches the bud lightly, your back arching off the ground, your breasts pressing to his all-too-clothed chest. “Need more of you,” he husks, his hand dragging back up your body. He sits up and pulls you into his chest, taking all your weight as he hoists you up and stands. You instinctually wrap your legs around his waist. 

He places you in the center of your bed before striding across the room, closing and locking your bedroom door. “They’ll all be home soon,” Logan says, walking back towards you, spreading your legs and settling between your thighs. “Might have to be quiet for me, darlin’.”

“W-what do you—”

And then his face is buried deep inside your cunt, his tongue lapping desperately at your clit. “I told you,” he rasps. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

tags: @wittyjasontodd @wolverinesslut @galacticglitterglue @silversprings-mp3 @zxaera @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @alastorssimp @alsoprettyinpink @prettyseaveins @ilysmdovie12 @evasmlp @derbygracie @rammakela @honeyfewr @ricefordays-blog1 @manipulatour

[reignpage]

Vice President!Sukuna

Satan: the end and the beginning

Word count: 3.7k Contents: cursing, mature themes, including allusions to drug use, morally dubious characters, angst, with comfort, I was gonna save this for next week, after I've done the updates for the other jjk guys, but I think people need this so here you guys go.

Sukuna’s brought you back to your dorm room with his jacket wrapped tightly around you and using the blanket of the night to avoid flashing anyone, though there wasn't really anyone hanging around by the time you two finished. It’s late and, without exchanging words, he strips down into his boxers and gets inside the covers with you. 

It’s a tight fit and you have to lay partially on top of him, but he cradles you so securely you have no doubts he won’t let you fall. There’s still a lot to be said and you aren’t sure when the right time is but maybe you'll talk in the morning, because right now, your bones are creaking, and your muscles are sore. Not to mention the ache between your legs. 

“You hurting anywhere, prez?” His mouth is pressed to your ear as he mutters the words to you, a hand rubbing your bare back soothingly. 

Shaking your head, you let it rest on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as if it could tell you the secrets of the world. With a satisfied smile, you answer, “No. I'm feeling pretty good, thanks.”

He huffs and then brushes a hair from your forehead, pressing a kiss there. Soft and gentle are two words you’d never thought you’d use for Sukuna and yet they’re the only words that circle the space between and around you. He was soft when he held you as you recounted the past, he was gentle when he carried you to his car and when he buckled your belt, and he’s both as he mutters apologies against your head when he thinks you've fallen asleep.

You’ve never been apologised more times in one night. 

But you don’t need his apologies, not really. You need something more, something only he can give you, and there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to get it. 

For now, you just let him hold you as you drift off to slumber.

When you wake up, he’s out of bed already. You don’t know when he had gotten changed into clean jeans, shirt and a new varsity jacket, but when your eyes fall on the breakfast spread on your desk, you’re quick to surmise that he must have gotten an assistant, or something of the sort, to drop things off. 

Sukuna leans against your desk, occupied with something on his phone as he taps rapidly and when he spots your movements, he glances at you and gives you a quirk of his mouth. It’s not a smile but it’s close enough to one to warm your chest. 

“Morning,” you yawn, covers slipping off your naked body. He grunts back a greeting. 

You push off the bed and head into the bathroom, door open as you brush your teeth and do your morning routine. When you come out, you ask him what’s going on. 

“Family problems,” he rolls his eyes. “My idiot cousin got into trouble and now I gotta bail him out.”

Finding an outfit in your closet, you settle for a plain sweater and leggings, just something to keep you covered whilst you ready yourself for a much-needed conversation. Steeling your spine, you turn and face him. 

“Choso?”

His gaze slowly reaches you, still typing, and with a cock of his head you know he’s questioning how you knew immediately. You shrug, entering his space so you can hold him. With no hesitation, his arms wrap around you, chin resting on your head. Smelling clean and fresh, you realise he must have showered; you hadn’t heard. You must have been completely knocked out after last night, both emotionally and physically. 

“It must have something to do with him being Cursed Womb, no?" Sukuna tenses, and then his grip on you tightens almost imperceptibly. “Of course, I knew. I hang around late on campus practically every night — you didn’t think I’d notice him creeping around with a duffel bag of clinking paint cans?”

“How long have you known?”

You kiss his chest, right over his heart and then look up at him with as innocent of a smile as you can muster. “Are we dating?”

His gaze narrows and you hear him put his phone down on the desk, focus solely on you now. Perhaps you’re coming on too strong, perhaps you hadn’t calculated right, but it’s too late now — you can’t wait any longer to see things unravel, to see him on his knees. 

“We are what we are.”

“I want us to be dating.”

Without missing a beat, he snaps his teeth at you playfully and growls, “Then we’re dating.”

“Perfect!” You peck his lips and then push off from him, choosing to sit on your bed, and when he makes a move to follow you hold out a hand to stop him. “You’re going to the Dean to fix things, yes?”

The narrowing of his eyes again is all the answer you need. 

“Good. And whilst you’re there with your cousin, you’re going to ask for my title back, yes?” He doesn’t nod, but he doesn’t shake his head. “Things will return to the way they were…except, this time, even better.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He had held you tightly last night, when you told him, and all he could do was kiss your neck and rub your stomach. You knew you had driven him speechless, that he doesn’t recall anything that happened, and when his eyes searched yours, you also knew he couldn’t fathom ever having hurt you. But he did. And you were. And no matter how good of a fuck he is, those things will never change. 

“Sukuna, listen closely, okay?” You cross your legs. “I got your cousin caught. Express my apologies to him, please. But I needed the whole of the Ryomen family’s backing to intimidate the Dean; you alone wouldn’t have been enough. I'm sure your family's fed up with your bullshit, but the two of you? Well, they'd have to get involved then. Sure, with your threats he would have given me my position back easily. But that’s not nearly enough. I need his unquestioning, undying support.”

“You brought my cousin into this?” His voice is dangerously low, and you can see him eyeing the space, eyeing you, as his brain tries to catch up. 

With no shame, you nod. “I told you; I needed to. Did it not occur to you that your well-experienced vandal of a cousin should have known better than to get caught? That he should know the guard’s schedule and rotation by now? And of course he did. He was careful. Good for him. But he was arrogant. Like all men tend to be. He didn’t think anyone would know and he didn’t think anyone would use that against him. I waited for the right time to utilise my knowledge, waited even when the trustees were on my ass for letting him get away with his disorder and rebellion and whatever else those dinosaurs thought. And I suppose I was hoping to bank it in much later but then the Dean pulled his shit, and well, here we are.”

He’s tasting your words, can see him mulling everything you’ve said. Despite the rising insult at your audacity to wield his family as a trump card, you know he’s impressed. But not enough to hold him back from picking up his phone, already bored with the conversation. So, you continue. 

“Make sure to tell the Dean that I want his full support. The other faculty heads need to know I can’t be bullied or undermined again. If I want a charity event, I no longer need to write a ten-page document detailing its benefits. And if I want a student suspended, it’ll happen, no questions asked, yes?”

Sukuna scoffs. “Anything else, prez?”

He’s mocking you but you ignore it. “Yeah, actually. I want you to never sabotage me again.”

“I wasn’t going to,” he bites back but you cut him off. 

Waving your hand dismissively, you counter, “Oh, but I need your word, Sukuna. I need to know that if we ever have a ‘lover’s spat’, you won’t devolve into your petty self and sabotage me. Because, let me make myself clear, if you ever do that again, even just once, even just something as minor as a single misplaced comma on a presentation or a speech, you will never talk to me again. You will never touch me again, and so help me God, you might just never see me again.”

He throws his phone back on the desk with too much force and you know you’ve struck a nerve. His body is even more tense than before and when he stalks over to you, chest rising and falling with every barely restrained breath of anger, you know you can’t back out now. 

“I fuck you once and suddenly you think I’m, what, pussy-whipped?”

Standing over you, casting a shadow across your face, you’re forced to look up at him, his damp pink hair falling slightly over his forehead. You don’t answer him, not with words, anyways. Instead, you leave a faint trail with your fingers against his stomach, his abs tensing with your touch. 

Then, with a glint in your eyes, you’re sure, you smile. 

“Aren’t you?” You cup his hardening length and squeeze. His hand flies to your head. “Because you sure do feel like it.”

Sukuna doesn’t like that look in your eyes, the smug look of someone who thinks they’ve won. He pulls your head back with a sharp tug your hair, ensuring your eyes are on him when he snaps, “I own you.”

“No. You don’t.” Your eyes flutter shut at the next rough pull. Then they fly open and you’re cutting him down with a stone-cold glare. “I own you. I have from the very beginning, since you fucked me over.”

He releases you, hands clenching like he’s been burned. It's clear he's conflicted -- offended by the arrogance in your demeanour, but oddly turned on by that newfound confidence. “You’re never going to forgive me, are you?”

“No, Sukuna," you say slowly. "I never have and I likely never will. Not even every time we fuck, or we kiss or even when we hold hands and skip along to the sunset. Because you haven’t apologised. Not the way I want you to, anyway. No, the kind of apology I want lasts a lifetime, maybe not even then. Maybe even in hell, I’ll want you to repent. Maybe in every new life, I’ll want you to find me and beg for forgiveness.”

“So confident I will?”

You stand now, and you’re actually surprised he lets you place a hand on his chest and shove him back to the desk where you pull up a chair and he sits in it without needing instruction. When you whisper in his ear, his jaw ticks.

“You will. Because you owe me. Because I deserve it,” you feel the weight of every word sink in, to both of you, and then with a slight tremble in your voice, you add, “Because you love me.”

It was a gamble to throw that back in his face, a small ball of anxiety deep in your stomach growing as you prepared to use that card in case he had a better one. But he doesn't. Rounding him, you place your hands on his shoulders, standing behind, keeping him still before you press a kiss to the crown of his head. He doesn’t deny any of your words, doesn’t even open his mouth to argue back, and you know, God, you know, you’ve done it.

“Open the left drawer and take out the book inside,” you order. He does and he clutches the bright pink, fluffy book with the shiny gold lettering like it was the most repulsive thing in the world. He’s pieced that part together without you even needing to say anything more. But still, you need the satisfaction. “Recognise it, baby? I’m sure you do. That book is my diary.”

He waves it in the air with a scoff. “If the golden capital letters weren’t enough to scream that, I don’t know what would be. It’s tacky as shit, by the way.”

You laugh and wrap an arm around his chest, he holds your hand against his heart, thumb stroking your knuckles absentmindedly.

“I had to make sure it’d catch your eye, and it sure did, didn’t it?”

Sukuna throws it back on the desk, leaning his head back to rest between your breasts, eyes closed as he inhales deeply. One would think he’s bored again, that he’s catching up on sleep, completely indifferent. But you know him better by now. You can tell by the tapping of his fingers against the armchair, the squeezing of your hand to remind him you’re real, and the clenching of his jaw, that he’s pissed. That he knows exactly what’s happened. What you've done.

“You saw it when you tucked me in bed last time, right? The night of Gojo’s stupid party? I knew you wouldn’t be able to help yourself. You’d want a peek inside my brain — no, my soul.”

“So, you knew I’d read the ripped off, crumped up paper ‘hastily’ shoved at the back?” There’s finality there. He’s so smart. You kiss his head again and when you pull away, he wraps a big hand around the back of your neck and pulls you in to kiss him on his lips. He bites and draws blood which he just sucks on before he releases you, eyes closing again. “You knew I’d read and internalise that fucking entry about ‘your deepest, darkest desire which you absolutely cannot ever tell a single soul about’.”

You nod. “Aw, you memorised it, baby? You’re such a good boy.”

He scoffs. The tips of his ears are red. 

“You thought you were doing me a favour? By giving me the opportunity to live out my fantasy in the woods? No, Sukuna. I gave you the opportunity to give me the opportunity. What? Did you think you were a genius for figuring out that I would be in the Lawn, gardening right at the forest’s edge on a Thursday afternoon? Sweetheart, I literally told you I joined the Green Thumb Society, which is a stupid society, by the way. They use up so much paper to advertise their events you’d think they’re singlehandedly killing all the trees.”

“We’ll force them to disband,” is all he says, thumb still brushing over your knuckles, feeling the scratches from the rough night. 

You hum. “And you were so sweet, Kuna. You gave me so many opportunities to stop. You tried to pull me to the car park, but I insisted we didn’t, remember? I directed you to the forest. And I thought you’d take me against a tree as soon as we were out of view, but you didn’t. You actually wanted to talk. You actually wanted to know what happened. Because you care, you sweet thing.”

A muscle in his jaw ticks. 

“And even when I was screaming at you, hitting and punching, you didn’t shut me up with your dick in my mouth. No, ‘cause you’re such a gentleman.” You giggle. “So, you made me slap you. Yes, that was entirely your fault, you stubborn man.”

“Shit didn’t hurt, by the way. I’ll need to teach you how to lay a solid punch,” he lifts your hand to bite it, and you slap his shoulder with a laugh. “You’re gonna need to fight me off better next time, yeah?”

Sure, you didn’t expect him to be pissed, but he’s being so well-behaved. He’s taking this all in so much better than you expect, maybe you can actually reveal everything. It might be good to start off your relationship on a clean slate, or as clean of a slate as one can manage with your history. With a fresh resolve, you come round to sit on his lap sideways, and he accepts your weight, hands on your thighs and hip to keep you steady. You lay your head on his shoulder, face tucked into his neck.

“You’re not mad at me?”

Sukuna rubs your leg through your leggings and then picks up a strawberry from the fruit salad on your desk. He pops it into your mouth, sucking the juice from his thumb before throwing the leaf back onto the plate. 

With a shrug, he replies, “Dunno yet. Why don’t you tell me the full story and I’ll decide.”

Always so perceptive. But never perceptive enough. 

Conspiratorially, you whisper against his skin, “I rigged the election.”

“I know.”

You sit up. “You knew?”

He fixes you a deadpan look like it should be obvious to you. “I’m Sukuna fucking Ryomen. One of the richest, most popular guys on campus. Who the hell would vote for a nobody over me? No offence, babe.”

Laughing, you lean back on him, tracing some patterns on his chest again. You accept another strawberry from him. Mouth still full, you garble out, “I needed to win, so I fixed the ballots. I’m not gonna say sorry.”

“Don’t. I’ll live. Plus, you did me a favour. Being president was exhausting as shit. Everyone complains like you’re the root of all their problems. Ungrateful fuckers.”

You nod. “They are very ungrateful, aren’t they? But we’ll take care of them, won’t we?”

Sukuna kisses your forehead and reassures you, “Don’t gotta worry about them no more.”

There’s something burning in your chest, an urge to scream being quietened. It’s a deep satisfaction coursing through your veins, pumped by your heart, and you can only hum a tune again, letting him feed you and sitting in silence. Alien and odd, you never would have thought this would be happening, that you’d be in his lap being hand-fed and soothed with pecks and warm hands, but it feels right. 

You’re sat on your throne, his lips as your crown and his hands as your swords. Emanating from him is all you’ve ever wanted since that fateful night and all that you couldn’t get on your own, but you feel it crackling at your fingertips. The potential for order and destruction, the possibility for greater influence, and the ability to smooth out the path ahead. Everything you could ever need and everything you've ever deserved is right there, willing his boner to calm down.

“There’s one more thing I want,” you whisper, voice devoid of emotion. 

His words are firm and unrelenting when he says, “Anything.”

“I want revenge, Sukuna. I want to make her pay.”

The words are shameful, you know it. They're words of a petty, vindictive, shameless woman who never forgave, never moved on, never grew up. But you don't care. You had spent years following her around, hanging on every word and doing whatever she pleased because you thought that was what friends did. You defended her against bullies who called her a 'whore' or a 'slut', and you let her cry in your arms when her mother remarried, and you even let her use your library card to straighten out white powder on your desk at 17.

All those times you waited outside her window so she could sneak one, those times you wrote her essays for her so she wouldn't get marked up again, lied to her mother about where she was, and let her steal every guy you could have begun to like. Even the one you did.

But humiliating you, looking down on you? When she was one who never earned a single thing in her life?

That's just not fair.

“What’s that beautiful brain cooking up?”

Pulling away so you can open another drawer, you fish out a USB flash drive. It’s been sitting there, gathering dust for years now. And it’s finally seeing the light of day. This won’t go to waste. You can’t let it. With careful words, you explain, “In here is a bunch of pictures and videos I’ve taken over the last couple years of my friendship with her. It’s pictures of her underage drinking, snorting cocaine like it’s air and lying to older men about her age. She’s a thrill junkie and a literal one, which you knew very well, didn’t you?”

He opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t let him. You just peck his cheek. 

“Don’t worry about it. She can be very persuasive when she wants to be. I figured that’s why you didn’t remember me, why you forgot that night. But I have to be very clear, Sukuna. You are not to touch that filth again. Not if you want to be with me, okay?’

Sukuna smashes his mouth against you, sucking your bottom lip and groaning at the sweet taste of strawberries before he shoves his tongue inside, searching for your taste and you meet him in the middle, offering whatever he wants. It’s more tender than the one you shared with him last night but it’s just as disastrous. The flash drive falls onto the desk as you cling onto him, holding him close. When he pulls away to lick the wetness trailing down your cheeks, you realise you’ve been crying. 

The things you haven't been able to say, not even to yourself, come out in hiccups.

“I-I couldn’t release it on my own, not w-when her family would find out it’s me. Somehow, they’ll know. They’ll take away my scholarship o-or blacklist me from every law firm in the country. And I can’t fight them, not by myself. I need you, Sukuna. I need you to do it for me. They can’t do anything against you, against your name.”

There’s no hesitation in his voice as he dries your face with his thumbs, swallows your sobs with his mouth and says, “I’ll do it. Whatever you want, I’ll do it.”

“For how long, Sukuna? For how long can I use you? How long will you let me?” You whisper against his lips, a real tremor to your hands as you press it against his chest, desperate to feel his heartbeat and know it matches yours. Though he never said it, he loves you. Or whatever closest thing to it. And truthfully, you don’t care. You just need his attention and his loyalty and that’s enough. Because that’s just as much as you can give him anyways. 

That's as much are you're capable of now.

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly, still tasting the salt on his lips. “I can’t say what'll happen in the future, but I have a lot to make up for, and if it takes my entire lifetime, then so be it. In fact, I have a gift for you. Consider it an expression of trust or whatever.”

He shows you his phone and some coding and files and files of audio and you're very confused. Your tears stop streaming and you're just staring at him like he's lost his mind. But then you see the file name and a grin is pulling at your lips, matching his.

This is enough. For now.

So, when he lifts you up to seat you on your desk and pulls down your leggings to bury his face between your legs, you don’t say anything else. You just let the pressure take you over and you lose yourself in all the power he gives you, the power he wills into your core. 

This is all you've ever wanted.

And you've never been happier.

[queers-gambit]

Curiosity Killed The Cat

prompt: after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.

pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 5.1k+

note: author wants things out of her drafts! also don't take this fic too seriously, it's not much at all - just me writing for the fuck of it until i'm ready to focus on my bigger projects.

warnings: modern AU, Mafia AU, obvious cursing, small hurt and comfort, brief depiction of physical violence and self-destruction in the form of: loss of appetite, lack of sleep, other symptoms of depression. NOT edited! author is ashamed because she knows she can give you something better but oh well.

Your feet planted, jarring you to a halt the moment you heard your name in a conversation you were not apart of.

You heard the hammering of your heart, echoing beats of your blood pumping with harrowing desperation. Hands turned cold and clammy, sweat breaking out on your brow and then freezing, feeling as if your throat had swollen to a new restriction and you were anchored in you in place.

Rooted.

But for now, all you could identify was the paralyzing anxiety that anchored you to your spot and made your heartbeat thunder in your ears. You stood outside the lounge, unable to comprehend relevant thought; still listening to low, docile tones continue their conversation, but you couldn't hear real words.

You were stunned. Panicked, confused, hurt - so very hurt. That seemed to register, too; you were really, really hurt.

This was perhaps why curiosity killed the cat.

You reprimanded yourself for listening in - transporting back to childhood during all the times your parents would scold you for eavesdropping. You knew it was wrong, you knew this was a private conversation meant to be shared between trusting confidants, but you couldn't help it - you heard your name and stopped. It was natural, right? To feel curious regarding a conversation seemingly about you that you, yourself, was not apart of?

Curiosity, indeed.

Blinking rapidly, you remembered the only other time you felt such mounting, pressurized fear, and while it might be dramatic, the only other time you could remember this level of anxiety was from about two months ago...

"Yes, baby, I got the bacon."

"And the jalapeños?"

"Uh-huh, the biggest they had."

"Cream cheese?"

"Do you know who you're talking to?" You laughed into the phone. "I'm a professional housewife by now, you can relax. I got all you needed for your fancy little dinner experiment."

Bucky laughed down the phone, "Oh, please, like I didn't see you salivating when we watched the segment on Top Chef."

"Hush," you laughed, too. "I'm leaving the store now," you told him, pushing out of the heavy glass doors, "and should be home in, like, 10 minutes?"

"Lemme pick you up."

"I have legs to walk with, so, no thank you."

He sighed, "Well, I'll open the wine to let it breathe. Red's still good?"

"Let's do a white tonight, please."

"Good deal," he mused softly. "Hey, I was thinking earlier - "

"Hang on," you pleaded.

"What's wrong?"

"No, nothing. There's just a van slowing down, I don't want to get hit," you chuckled some, looking up and down the street before crossing. "Sorry, so, what were you thinking?"

"We haven't been to Paris in months."

You smirked, "I'm sure our plants in the apartment are dead by now."

Bucky laughed, "Oh, I am, too. But, look, how 'bout it, Peach? You, me, all the croissants we can consume this weekend. I'll take Monday and Tuesday off, we can leave tomorrow night."

"Oh, that sounds nice," you moaned. "Paris in the spring? Baby, that's so dreamy!"

"So, is that a yes?"

"It's a hell yes," you grinned. "Do you know the weather?"

"Supposed to be nice and sunny, not too warm or cold. Figured this would be ideal," he chuckled. "But does the weather matter if we're in bed the whole time?"

"No, we're not wasting our time!" You laughed. "We're gonna go do shit, okay? Stereotypical tourist-couple shit."

"I'll bring the camera."

"And I was hoping we could have dinner at that little place we love?"

"I wouldn't take you anywhere else," he mused.

"I think it's - FUCK!" Bucky froze when he heard the screeching of tires; a van coming up to a skidding halt, flurry of voices all yelling but he heard yours clearly. "No, no, no, hey, hey, what the hell's happening? Hey! What's this - hey, hey! Don't touch me! Ow, shit! No! Hey! Fuck's sake - oh, my God! Ow! Hey!"

"Baby!? Peach! Hey! The fuck's going on!?"

There was a thudding over the phone, and Bucky listened to more struggling - more fidgeting and fighting - and then the slamming of a car door. Still calling your name, Bucky heard a scrape over the line before a different voice answered your phone, "James Barnes. On behalf of HYDRA, you're overdue on your payment and we warned you there would be consequences. Deliver the full amount of 17 million - "

"It's 15," he growled.

"Two million more for the inconvenience of stalking your woman."

"If you even so much as touch her, I swear to God - "

"17 million at midnight, at the pier, or every minute you're late, she'll receive the brunt end of our frustration."

"Don't hurt her - "

"Midnight, Mr. Barnes, at the pier - you know where. Don't be late, she looks like she won't last long."

The line went dead after he heard your screech of pain, confusion, and fear. The moment the line cut, he dropped his phone and slowly lowered himself to sit on the kitchen floor, shock coloring his system. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, quite the opposite - but he and his men had a plan in motion to take out HYDRA, their org's competition, and this was totally against all they anticipated. After a minute to sit in his own worry, Bucky jumped to his feet, grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and two handguns; holstering them both before shrugging his suit jacket on.

He made every phone call he could, gathering the men he trusted most to (one of) his warehouse(s).

For hours, you were strung up by your wrists in a joint-pulling position while the Brooklyn Mafia formulated a plan of attack. It was the most pain you've ever known, but then the abuse started and you were blinded by this new pain. You had bruises most places, cuts that wept blood; scars that would never heal, wounds that wouldn't ever close. You were delirious, miserable, confused, just dazed and confused; praying to a God who didn't listen.

"Oh, look at that," your captor mocked, holding a thick-bladed hunting knife in hand, "it's one minute til midnight, and I don't see your loverboy anywhere."

You sniffled, unable to respond.

He stared out the lone window, tisking and narrating, "Nope, I see not a soul - and with how protective he is over you, you'd think he'd want to ensure your safety. Not leave it to chance, huh?"

You whimpered as the clock struck midnight, your heart hammering in heavy-hung worry. You had tears in your eyes, heart nearly beating out of your chest, feeling incredibly nauseous. The desire to scream never lessened, just fearing what was to come; the men in the room making you fear for the state of your life, their knuckles cracking. You only begged, "Please. Don't."

The main captor laughed, "You can do better than that! C'mon, give me the satisfaction of tellin' ol' James you begged for mercy - but it wasn't enough to sway me. I'll lie, for sure, and say it happened but it will be so much sweeter if you actually do it."

"Please," you shook your head, avoiding eye contact. "Just don't do this, please."

"Oh, honey," he mocked, "it's not our fault he's late. Lads! Have at her, but leave her face for now - she's still real pretty."

You listened as he gave commands in Russian, understanding after the years at Bucky's side; whimpering when the first blow landed to your gut and knocked the wind out of you. The minutes drug by and you felt your resolve crumbling, heart still hammering to a never-before-felt speed that made it feel as if it were jumping out of your very body at every single pulse point. You struggled in your restraints, but it was futile by how tight you were bound; unable to protect yourself.

At 12:03 am, the doors blew open in a resounding blast; concrete crumbling and sprinkling the floor. You cried out as the smoke choked you, coughing through the haze; only barely able to make out certain figures to know Bucky had brought his best men. However, despite the sting to your eyes from the swirling dust and smoke, you saw a lone man stalk through the blasted wall, through the fray, and straight up to you.

"Bu-Bucky!" You choked in relief as he reached to untie your feet first. You dangled for only a moment as his metal prosthetic ripped off whatever held your wrists to the torture contraption. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Bucky, holy shit, baby, please, please, please," you rambled as he freed you and instantly caught you on his broad shoulders.

"I got you, Peach, I'm here, I've got you," he promised in your ear, hoisting your legs around his waist so they latched and then wrapping his arms around you securely. "Don't let go and don't look up, okay? Hear me, Peach?"

You nodded into his neck, only able to cry.

Bucky jolted and jerked slightly as he moved through the fight again, but not a minute later, you were stepping outside into the sobering, brisk spring air. This was the moment you understood how dangerous and fleeting life with Bucky could be, making a promise to yourself that if he says take the car, you'll take the fucking car.

And now, here you were, outside the high-rise apartment's lounge (which was just a converted bedroom), listening to your boyfriend complain about you some 2 months after the whole fiasco. HYDRA had been all but wiped out, and in the weeks since, Bucky's men had gone on smaller missions to eradicate the HYDRA members they heard rumor of being local. Yet you didn't feel safe, yet.

You didn't feel safe if you weren't around Bucky.

Everything made you jump: the beep of the done-dryer, that spritz of the automatic fragrance mister in the bathroom, the "duh-dunnn" of a loaded-up Netflix. Keys jingling, car horns, the barking of the dog in the apartment a floor below you... Everything.

Being around Bucky was just like holding a safety blanket. He would always protect you, and for about a week after your rescue, he laid in bed and around the home with you; being lazy; time off work to simply hold you and assure you were safe. Safe in his arms. Safe in his embrace, his presence.

So now... To hear this... You were devastated.

You didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened. It was still earlier in the morning, but Bucky hadn't been in bed beside you and based on the feel of the sheets, his body hadn't been there in a while. So, you made some coffee and then ventured around the home in search of your lover; coming upon the lounge and hearing voices from within.

You knew it was common for Steve Rogers and / or Sam Wilson to stay late or visit early, so, you weren't shocked by that, but did falter in announcing yourself when you heard Sam ask how you were doing since the kidnapping. He used your name specifically, making Bucky sigh, and for your curiosity to peak.

"She's different, man."

"How so?" Sam wondered.

"She doesn't like being without me now," he chuckled without humor. "I'm serious, she won't go to the gym until I do, waits to have meals together, won't leave the house if I'm out, and," he scoffed to himself, "you can forget going to the grocery store or anything - she's even stopped going to work - "

"You told her to stop working, like, two years ago when y'all first moved-in together," Sam deadpanned.

"I know," Bucky shrugged, "but it feels tenfold now that she's so reclusive."

"It's normal," Steve sighed gently.

"Yeah? Is it normal that I can't even go take a shit without promising her I'll be right back?" Bucky snapped in exasperation. "It's that bad, she's that fucking clingy, man. I go in the kitchen to make dinner, she's in there 30 seconds later to 'help' me. I take a shower, she finds a reason to linger in the bedroom, but that was better than before, when she wouldn't even shower by herself. It's just a lot, she's everywhere I look. I'm starting to find new reasons not to come home, man, she's always fucking here - and when I walk in the door, she's on me. I need to fucking breathe, but I can't tell her to stop, she'll get her feelings hurt and then I'm the bad guy."

"Man," Steve laughed, "you can't be the bad guy if you go to her in a calm and collected manner, but it's only been two months. She's still recovering."

"Exactly why if I say anything, no matter how calm and collected, I'm the bad guy. I get she's hurting and tryna recover, but Goddamn, does she have to be in every room I'm in? Do everything with me? How do I tell my traumatized girlfriend to back off? Let me breathe?"

Sam laughed, "You don't! You just said it - she's traumatized! Cut the girl some slack, she's got a lot to fuckin' deal with!"

"I'm not negating from that fact," Bucky argued, "I'm just trying to say, the way she's clinging onto me like she can't function without me is just grating at my nerves. I just need to breathe and recharge, but I can't tell her that - fuck's sake."

"Buck," Steve smirked, "you're worried Peach isn't gonna listen, but that's her literal superpower. Just communicate, she can't read your mind, but you need to remember how traumatic all of that was for her to experience - she's scarred from that kidnapping, man. So, sure, you need to recharge, but she needs the support."

"Is it wrong to ask for a day here and there to do that? To recharge?" Bucky asked quietly.

"If you communicate, it's perfectly reasonable to ask for," Sam assured softly. "And whatever you do, don't tell her you think she's clingy. Chicks hate that, that word is, just, like, taboo or something. Real heavy, negative connotations."

"But she is," Bucky growled quietly, "'s like she's afraid to let go 'cause I'll disappear or something."

"Oh, noooo," Sam mocked, "I'm Bucky and my girlfriend loves me too much and trusts me too much and actually feels safe and dependent on me too much - ohhh noooo!"

There was a thump, Sam's cried, "Ow!", and Bucky telling him to shut up. You slowly backed away from the door, trying to settle your breathing as you made your escape down the hall. When back in the kitchen, you whimpered and let the first tears fall... The first of many you shed in the hour it took you to prepare breakfast for everyone; doing your best to eat as you cooked so you didn't have to linger around the men. You took Bucky's words to heart, and maybe you were too sensitive, maybe you should venture outside again.

So, when the lads came out, you set the table without making eye contact with any of them. "Here," you directed, setting the pancakes down, "I made breakfast, come eat, it's still hot."

"Wow," Sam smiled brightly, "thanks, Peach!"

You hummed, still avoiding their eyes as you just set the abundance of food to the table. "You... Cooked without me?" Bucky asked you with skepticism.

"Mhm," you hummed, setting the coffee pot down to a hot pad, "and I'm going out shopping with Nat, so, eat up, lads, I'll do the dishes when I get home. Love you, boys, bye," you waved them off, snatching your keys and then moving to the door to stuff your feet into your sneakers.

"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky left the table, approaching you urgently, "hey, what do you mean? You're goin' out?"

"Yep, figured I've stayed in too long, might as well get out and remember life doesn't stop just 'cause I'm sad."

"Peach - "

"I'll see you when I get home, Buck, okay?" You mumbled, slinging your purse on your shoulder.

"Well, here, here, hey, wait, hang on," he pulled his wallet out, handing you over a wad of big bills. "Spend it all, okay? Have fun, call or text if you need me, yeah?"

"Sure."

Bucky leaned in to kiss you but you just opened the door, ready to leave. He frowned, watching you, barely managing to call a quick, "Love you!"

You didn't return the sentiment, feeling hallow and all too silly to return the affection. In your purse was your laptop, headphones, chargers, and whatever else, so, instead of meeting your friend, Natasha - being just a ruse to avoid Bucky - you started small and just went to the local café. You used to frequent it back in the day, but times were changed, and yet, they were all the happier to serve you the same as before. Getting cozy in the corner, you set up camp and ordered your favorite coffee basically every other hour - letting the day waste away as you caught up on work emails.

Might've wasted time on Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest. Got shopping done on Amazon. Browsed through Target's online selection. Checked out the sale items at Kate Spade. Perused Fenty Lingerie because you could.

Before you knew it, a message was coming in over your MacBook from Bucky, asking where you were - why had you turned your location off?

You packed up and with a to-go cup, made the short trek back home. When you got back, Bucky was pacing in the living room; staring at his phone and typing, then deleting, retyping, groaning, glancing up, typing again, then doing a double take. "Where've you been, Peach? Huh!?" Bucky demanded. "You're late!"

"Out with Nat," you eased.

He huffed through his nose, nodding slowly, "You have a nice time?"

"It was okay," you answered. "I'm gonna go to bed after I shower."

His brows furrowed, "I have a meeting tonight."

"I know."

"O...kay?" He let you go, wanting to ask why you didn't ask him to join like you had so often in the past few weeks.

And it didn't stop there, in fact, it got worse. When Bucky got home from his meeting, he was actually shocked to see you nestled in the bed; teetering on the edge of the shared space while snuggling a weighted body pillow.

When he tried to give you a snuggle, you stirred to life and pushed him back, muttering, "Too hot."

The following morning, he was relatively surprised to see you up and about before him; barely getting a word in before you were slipping out the door to go on a morning jog. He was confused by how all of a sudden, where you were once everywhere he looked, now, you were disappeared and distant and gone. You worked out alone, cooked alone - but always left him a plate, but long gone were the cute little sticky notes you left for him. You once haunted the apartment by never wanting to leave, and now, ghosted in and out of it on a daily basis.

You never bothered to go far from home. You liked hanging at the coffee shop and luckily, your job let you work from home most days, and the rare time you were due back in the office, it was only about a 20 minute walk. You got better at lying, couldn't even remember the last time you and Bucky had sex, and even now, the last time you had a meal together. You didn't text him about your day; where you once might've told him about an adorable dog you saw on the street, now, you only ever texted him if he asked a direct question.

Food lost appeal, your appetite vanished.

Sleep evaded you, plaguing you with nightmares when you did rest.

Interest dulled, passions were snuffed, and only fearful, confused anger remained. It showed in the way weight seemed to shift around your body, thinning; the lack of sleep creating dark rings and bags under your bloodshot eyes.

After two weeks of this, Bucky grew irritated and short with everyone around him. It reflected in his work, the way he spoke to everyone; even Steve and Sam getting the brunt end of his anger. Without you to assure him, Bucky was off his rocker; losing his cool; his patience stretched far too thin. So much so, the two mates approached an outside associate, Natasha Romanoff, after a particularly snappy meeting to plead for her to talk to Bucky.

"James," Nat greeted as she strode into his office without knocking.

"I know you're my oldest friend, but you don't have that privilege yet," he mused, never looking up.

"What?"

"Not knocking. What is it, Nat?"

"Just came to check on you, you know, like friends do."

"Hm," he chuckled without humor, "and what did Peach say to you?"

"About...?"

"Me."

"Nothing, I haven't gotten ahold of her for weeks."

Bucky paused, slowly lifting his head in confusion; brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm, straight line. "What?" He grit.

"Huh?" Nat wondered.

"She's been telling me that she's hanging out with you for the past two weeks," he revealed.

"Nope, not since the incident with HYDRA."

Bucky's (right) flesh hand crushed the pen in his grip, taking a long breath. "All right," he sighed, "so, why come today?"

"What's really going on, Buck?" She worried softly. "Is it really whatever's going on with Peach? You're this pissed off? What'd she even do?"

"She just..." He cut himself off with a long sigh. "It's nothing."

"Bucky," Nat gave a pointed look.

"She's just avoiding me," he muttered. "It's like she's barely home, almost like a ghost."

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes, and no," Bucky snipped, rolling his neck out. "I'm just worried about her now, she's never not communicated before."

"Something's bothering her," Nat shrugged. "She probably needs you right now, Buck."

"I can't do it all," he whispered. "I can't be who she wants and run this organization at the same time."

"She doesn't need that, she just needs you to be her partner," Natasha spoke softly. "She needs to feel loved and supported, and surely, she maybe felt weird about whatever you were projecting. Instead of taking it out on your men," she smirked, "why don't you just talk to her? 'Cause I hear you're bein' a more-than-usual asshole lately. You need to ease up or get laid, 'cause you're taking it out on good, loyal men, and that's entirely unfair."

"They can take it."

"Sure, but they shouldn't have to," Nat rolled her eyes. "Look, since you won't answer me, I'm assuming the sour mood is in regard to whatever relationship issues you have right now?"

"Sure," he tossed the pen away, opened a skinny drawer to his right and select an identical one.

"Bucky," she growled.

He sighed, "She's lying to me, Nat. Saying she's with you when she's not... Is this an affair? She's gone all the time now."

"No way," Nat laughed. "Baby girl doesn't have the energy to entertain anyone - let alone two men. You're just the exception."

"Why lie, then?"

"Maybe she didn't want you questioning her..."

"No shit."

"Well, did you get into a fight?"

"No."

"Any reason she doesn't want to be home?"

He shook his head with a sigh, "Not that I know of."

"You had to do something."

"Honest, I haven't. She was being all clingy, but then one day, a switch flipped."

Nat frowned, "You think... Your girlfriend is being clingy... Because she was kidnapped and beaten up... Because of your fucking job... And is probably scared...out of...her mind...? I get that correct?"

Bucky paused for a long moment, muttering, "Oh, my God."

"Yeah, you asshole. Think of it that way! She's afraid!" Natasha snapped. "And probably picked up on your energy, so, she made herself scarce."

"I didn't mean - "

"I don't care, go home, apologize to that sweet angel - she doesn't deserve this."

Bucky paused, "What is 'this' exactly?"

"James. Focus on the present - your woman. Go make this right. We all know you're this big, bad dude - but it's okay to be a little sensitive towards the woman who loves you without condition!"

Bucky relented, figuring the redheaded Russian mobster was right.

The entire drive home, Bucky considered the ways you had changed in the few, short weeks since he vented to Sam and Steve about your clinginess. You didn't take meals with him, didn't cook, work-out, or do anything you used to do together. Sex? Forget it. Dates? Nope. Cuddling? No, you're always 'too hot'. And when he thought about it, he remembers seeing the wads of cash he'd leave for you stuffed in his sock drawer - surely trying to make him think it was just another emergency fund he had hidden. You never spent his money, feeling humiliated by his choice of words.

Clingy...

You didn't text or call him when he was gone, you hadn't even so much as kissed him in what felt like ages... Well, more like you hadn't initiated any kisses...

His heart weighed in his chest as he realized he hadn't even so much as hugged you in days. You were rarely in the apartment together, and when you were, you were just silent and busy with chores. It was as if you operated on the exact opposite schedule as he did, went to new extents to avoid him, and his heart clenched in his chest.

When he got home, you were caught cooking in the kitchen - being obvious that you weren't expecting him. The door slammed and his baritone voice snapped, "Peach!"

You gulped, holding the sauce-covered wooden spoon to your chest. When he rounded around the corner, he found you and slowed down, sighing in relief. "What's wrong?" You worried in a timid tone.

He panted lightly, relaying, "Needed to find you."

"I'm here."

"I know," he relented, charging up to you and engulfing you in a tight, heavy hug. "I needed to talk to you, Peach," he whispered.

"What's wrong?"

"You. You're what's wrong."

"What the fuck does that - "

"No, no," he pulled back to stare down at you fondly, "I don't mean it like that, just that... You're struggling. I can see that. But you're not alone, I'm here with you, and I got a little caught up in my head when I realized someone was so very dependent on me - it fucking scared me. But then... Then you just shut yourself off and hid away from me, and oh, my God, it's so much worse, baby. Don't do that," he breathed, "okay? Don't ever shut me out - don't stop loving me, don't stop talking to me, don't give up on us. I can't read your mind, you can't read mine, it's not an excuse - but we understand better when we trust each other enough to communicate what's required. I'm so sorry I got caught up in myself, I didn't know what you needed - but I'm here now, I'm here - I'm not leaving you."

You collapsed into his chest, taking a shuddering breath.

"Don't ever stop talking to me, Peach," Bucky whispered, kissing the top of your head; keeping you close. "I'm so sorry, baby, if I - "

"If?" You snapped, pulling back to glare at him through your tears. "I heard you, Bucky. I heard you talking to Sam and Steve, and about how clingy I am."

"I was wrong," he insisted. "I was overwhelmed and tired and just stretched thin, the easiest thing to do is attack those closest to me, and that's you. It's not right, it's the worst I could do to you after all you've been through, and I'm so sorry. I was wrong, you're not the person to take this out on - and I'm so sorry, Peach."

You sighed, "I don't mean to be... I don't mean to cling - "

"Nah," he chuckled, caressing your cheek, "you cling as much as you want. Cling as tight as you want, baby, don't let me go. I'm sorry for what I said and the way it made you feel, it was wrong - so fucking wrong of me, and I see that. When you pulled away from me, I just... I couldn't think. It felt so wrong, and I knew it was my fault." He took your face in both palms, promising, "I'm so sorry, Peach."

You shrugged meekly, "It's okay."

"It's not."

"No, but apologizing is a step in the right direction."

He nodded, "What else can I do?"

"Nothing - "

"Peach."

You paused to think, smiling shyly, "Movie night?"

"Whatever my pretty girl wants," he nodded.

"Hmm... Get a bath with me?"

"All right... Sure, okay..."

"And face masks."

He sighed, "Okay."

"And mani-pedis."

"Baby."

"You said you were making it up to me, right?"

He smirked, "That's right... All right, yeah, sure, fine, we can..." He sighed again, "We can do all that, Peach, whatever you want."

"I just want you," you told him softly. "I didn't mean to be so clingy. I was just afraid... I felt afraid everyday, just so very unsure in this life. You're the only thing that makes sense to me, Buck, and when I heard you, I just... I guess I realized how dependent I'd been and wanted to give you space. Last thing I want is to smother you, to drive you away from me."

"Not ever gonna happen," he promised softly. "I just didn't handle it like I should've. I'm sorry, Peach, but I'm here now - for whatever you need. Want me to take a few days off, just be together? I'll arrange it. Want to get away for a bit? We can go."

"I just need you," you whispered. "Only you and I should be okay - I can be okay if I have you, but feeling like I lost you? Even a fraction? Buck... James, it was such a harrowing feeling, I wasn't sure what to do to move forward. So, I think I just panicked, shut down; thought if I could just get back to normal, you'd love me again..."

"I never stopped loving you," he swore, "I just had a bad lapse in my own judgement. Nothing against you, baby. Nothing."

You nodded again, letting him tuck you into his chest; perfectly snug under his chin as he coiled his arms around you. He let out a long sigh, his guilt swelling to new heights, but for that present moment, everything seemed okay.

Felt okay.

Appeared okay.

And you'd both do whatever it took to remain as okay as you possibly could.

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

[orimuraa]

୭ ˚. I see it, I like it, I want it, I got it - OT7

(synopsis) ✩🎧⊹ stealing enhypen’s clothes ೀ

ot7!enhypen x fem!reader ✩🎧⊹ fluff, crack ✩🎧⊹ petnames, smooches ✩🎧⊹ wc 674

𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈 - 이희승

"baby have you seen my grey sweatshirt? i can't find...it-" heeseung stood there, staring at you with a blank look on his face. there you were, snuggled into the grey sweatshirt he was looking for. "alright you little thief! since you look so cute in it, i guess you can have it," heeseung playfully sighed, scooping you into his arms. "yay!" you cheered, hugging heeseung's neck and planting a chaste kiss to his lips. "you're lucky you're so darn cute."

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 - 박종성

since your boyfriend had stepped out of the room for a couple minutes, you decided to make haste and steal a warm sweater from jay's closet. when he came back, he immediately noticed the new sweater--that was 2x too big for you--you were wearing. "nice sweater," he smirked, sitting down on the edge of his bed. "thanks! i got it from my boyfriend," you winked, plopping down next to him. "finee, you can have it...but i expect it back by the end of the month!"

𝑺𝒊𝒎 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒖𝒏 - 심재윤

"hey princess have you seen my- jacket...OH MY GOODNESS YOU LOOK SO ADORABLE!!" you were fully expecting to be scolded by jake for stealing his stuff but you also expected this exact reaction. jake's cuteness aggression. "you're not upset i stole it?" you questioned, smiling at jake's excitement. "nope! i would let you have my whole wardrobe knowing how cute you are in my clothes!!" "thanks jakey," you laughed. maybe you would take up his offer.

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏 - 박성훈

"hey doll? i've been looking for my black shirt, have you seen it?" sunghoon walked in to find you standing in the kitchen, wearing his "missing" shirt, and eating a piece of bread. "oh-" was all he said before whipping out his phone and snapping a quick picture of you. you were just too cute. "it suits me doesn't it?" you asked, your cheeks full of bread. "very much so doll. my clothes suit you very well," sunghoon chuckled. he then walked up to you, wrapping his arms around your shorter frame and placed a kiss to your neck. "so precious," he whispered.

𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒐 - 김선우

sunoo had went to go pick up some food, giving you a good amount of time to commit some robbery. you quickly carried yourself over to sunoo's closet, picking out a few sweatshirts and shirts to bring back to your room. however, you clearly underestimated how much time there was because as you were scurrying back to your room, you were caught. "sweets? why do you have 6 sweatshirts and 4 shirts in your arms? where are you going with those?" sunoo was catching on quick. "uhhh- laundry! yeah! i was uhh folding laundry!" you mentally applauded your swift excuse but clearly he wasn't fooled. "and that’s why you're wearing one too sweets?" he smirked. mission failure. (jk he let you have them all)

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒘𝒐𝒏 - 양정원

"jagi? i think i lost my hoodie but i wanted to ask if you've-" jungwon stopped in his tracks and slowly looked at you. you may or may not have stolen his hoodie and were wearing it right this minute..."ah, there it is..y'know what though? just keep it. you look adorable with it on," he smiled, his eyes practically turning into hearts just by the sight of you in his clothes. god he treasured you so much.

𝑵𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒊 - 西村 力

"angel? i've lost my black hoodie and i was wondering if you've seen it?" ni-ki ran a hand through his hair while tapping his foot, trying to remember where he put it. "oh! this one?" you asked, tugging the material that you were wearing. you had barged into ni-ki's room and just grabbed the first item of clothing you saw, and then walked out with it on. "yeah...that one.." he mumbled, his cheeks turning slightly pink at how adorable you looked. "sorry, do you want it back?" you asked, already tugging it off. "no no no! wait! no! it's fine! i have tons of other ones! just keep it..it suits you..." he said, mumbling the last bit. only you knew that he actually only owned one black hoodie.

ughhhh this was so cute >.< i always love the prompt of stealing clothes from the s/o 🤭 hope you guys enjoyed! likes, reblogs, and feedback is always appreciated! <3

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany

[parfaitblogs]

i NEED a angst fic (with a happy ending ofc) based on tolerate it by taylor swift please 🙏 big chance it’s been done before though and im just the most unoriginal bitch ever

tolerate it ❀ s. reid x reader

in which spencer reid gets out of prison, and you baselessly feel like your relationship is growing increasingly one sided.  pairing: spencer reid x reader genre: angst tags: post prison reid. neglectful bf spencer reid. happy (open) ending. communication yippee. themes of self doubt in reader. mentions of spencer not eating.  word count: 2k a/n: writers block isn't real you just need to watch criminal minds season 12 episode 13 'spencer' and then listen to tolerate it on repeat for three hours straight. iiii know human beings don't talk in long monologued speeches but for the sake of my sanity let us pretend i am shakespeare and spencer reid is my leontes. plzzzz tell me if u liked this or if u didn't yay thank u ily

i sit and watch you. i notice everything you do, or don't do. (lines 3–4)

A fork scrapes against ceramic. It emits a scratching sound that hurts your ears, and you're cringing from your curled up position on the couch as you hear it. Silverware shines beneath the bright, warm glow of his kitchen light, his food barely dented as he pushes it around his plate. 

He's been playing with it since he sat down to eat it. 

You're not too sure what's going through his head as he takes barely there bites of a meal you cooked. You don't think you want to know. But it takes him all of twenty three minutes to come to the same conclusion he made last night, and every other night before that. That he isn't going to eat any more of the food, and just like his fork, his chair scrapes against the floor as he stands. 

He wraps the plate in aluminium foil, the crinkling of metal being your only indicator that he has plans to eat it later. At least, that's what you hope. 

When he disappears into the bedroom, you follow him. Like a lovesick puppy, you're trailing after him, and your chest feels hollow with how embarrassing it all is. 

He doesn't know you're watching him, though. 

At least, not to the extent you are. He's field trained enough to know that you're keeping an eye on him, but your silence is only indicative of you giving him the space he so politely asked for three days ago. He's not in his right mind to assume you're silent for any other reason, and you've battled to a loss with the thoughts of letting him into your disaster of a brain. 

He doesn't need to know that.

The ensuite door shuts behind him, and you hear the water turn on minutes later. You take the cue to curl up on your side of the bed, your fingers toying with the paper edges of a book you now had in your lap. The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, for you were rediscovering your love for children's novels amongst this trying time between you and Spencer. 

"Hey, did you buy me more shampoo?"

Your head lifts at the voice, the snowy Narnia world you had built in your brain shattering in an instant, as you're met with the dull colours of Spencer Reid's bedroom, and a showered and dressed Spencer Reid standing only a few feet away. His bedroom hadn't always been dull. Really, nothing had actually changed artistically within it to make it dull. But there's something about no longer laughing in a room once filled with so much love that mutes its vibrance. 

"Yeah," you say, dog-earing the page you were on and slipping it onto the nightstand. "I saw you were running low."

His lips part as he exhales, and you hate that you can tell he's pushing away something snippy. It wasn't that he was actively trying to start fights with you, but his temper has grown short, and he has more anger in his heart than before. 

"You didn't get the right one, that's all."

And though it isn't said rudely, your chest opens up like a black hole regardless, and a thick ball of emotion lodges in your throat.

"I'm sorry," you force past your lips, despising the hollow sound of your sad voice, and the fact that he notices it. His eyebrows frown towards each other at the sound of you, and he takes a step towards the bed.

It's pathetic, right? To be this upset over him letting you know the thing you bought him wasn't correct. In that almost fake sounding soft, kind voice he has when he is trying to keep his unnecessary frustration at bay. 

But it wasn't like this was the first time you'd done something for him in recent, and been told you did it wrong, instead of simply being thanked. Acts of service he was finding problems within no matter what they were, each new critique chipping away at the scales of your self confidence. You don't even think he's meaning to do it.

Every time this happens, memories of the other times flash violently in your head, reminding you that he could not find the beauty of being cared for by you the way he had before this. This, this thing you were barely even able to string the letters of together, because it seemed so foreign and faraway to you. Spencer Reid in prison is not a sentence that makes sense in this — or any other — timeline. You don't think it ever will. And yet.

You'd cooked him meals every single day since he got out. Meals he'd barely ever touch, wrap in foil, then put in the fridge for his work lunch the next day. You don't know if he's even eating them at work, or if he's just taking them there to throw them out. You've been too scared to reach out to any of his team members to ask. Knowledge is power, but knowledge makes his negligence all too real. 

There's a fear in calling it negligence. It isn't fair of you to expect the same man before and after prison, and you know he's dealing with more than you can fathom. You were prepared for distance. 

Just not this much.

The submerged sound of your name tugs you from your thoughts, and suddenly Spencer is closer than he was before, and he's repeating your name over and over in calling. Once you rapidly blink and shake your head, he determines you've returned to Earth, and he's falling silent again. There's concern knitting his eyebrows together, and he's got his hands hovering in the air, as if he's reaching for you, but second guessing himself at the same time. 

"Whats going on in your brain?" he asks you after a few beats of the two of you just staring at each other. 

Like a dam breaking, his question triggers an onslaught of emotions, and every fear and insecurity you've had inside you spills out.

"I feel like you suddenly hate me," your eyes rapidly search the duvet in front of you for your words. "Or—or I annoy you with my presence? Or my care? I mean, I try to do things for you and you barely even spare them a second glance, or thought. You barely talk to me anymore outside of updating me on your schedule. We sleep with miles of distance between us," you gesture to the bed beside you. "I cook you meals you don't eat, I wash your clothes you don't fold. Both of which are things that I'm fine with, because I can't imagine how skewed your appetite is, and I—I know laundry is a trigger now. But there is not even a slight hint of you—you being thankful. You know, appreciative. I feel like I'm following you around like a servant, and I'm doing things with no gratitude in return. I'm doing things I shouldn't have to, because I'm your girlfriend. Not your maid. But they are things that I want to do, because I care for you, and I love you," you pause, a self deprecating smile appearing on your face. "And—and you haven't even told me you love me since the day we got you home. Do you even love me, still? No, don't answer that. I don't think I want to know. I mean, I do. I don't know. God, Spencer, can you say something?"

He doesn't. For a long while, he stares at you, and you train your eyes on the pattern on the bedding you're currently sitting under. His gaze is pulverising, and every second that passes is another limb turning to dust beneath it. His silence should be enough of an answer for you. Yet, you hold onto groundless hope still.

It feels like eternity has passed you by, by the time you hear his voice again.

"I don't mean to make you think I don't love you," he says. "I do love you. Which feels meaningless to confess to you now, knowing how you feel, and I wish my expansive knowledge of words could come up with a confession that does justice to how you feel, but also makes you feel better. I can only hope you take it at face value, and don't assume I'm saying it because it's what you want me to say." 

He finds a seat on the bed in front of you, fingers fidgeting with each other as he fixates on the wooden flooring in front of him. 

"I am grateful for everything you've done for me recently. I'm sorry I haven't expressed that. I'm having a hard time putting one foot in front of the other, let alone stringing together sensical thoughts. I wish I could tell you what my mind sounds like without feeling guilty about it. It isn't nice, and every thought I have is far from positive," he lifts his eyes to you, and you watch in real time as they soften, for the first time since he came home. "I will tell you that there's you. Among every awful thought and feeling I have, there is you. I think I... I think I've been coming across as ungrateful because you are a breath of relief after every bad thought and feeling. Am I making sense?" you nod your head, and he sighs in, namely, relief. "I take a step back from processing my emotions and figuring out how I'm going to talk about them with that bureau therapist when I think about you, because you are the one good thing I have to hold on to. So I just bask in the thought of you, or the sight of you, and focus on nothing else."

You aren't sure when you began to cry, and you only realise it when you have to sniffle before speaking. "You can focus on so many things at once, though." 

"Not anymore," he admits, looking back down. "I don't know what's happened. I've gone from having a brain that works inhumanly — which is objectively an incorrect statement, but I digress — to one that cannot multitask on two separate things at once." 

"Oh," you whisper. "I see."

"I'm so sorry I've made you feel as though your efforts go unnoticed, honey," he murmurs. "They don't. This has just been really difficult."

"I know," you say, wiping your tear stained face with the back of your hand. 

There's a part of you that wants this to be the end of it. The end of self doubt, and distance, and instead the beginning of your relationship rebuilding itself alongside Spencer. 

There's a larger, more logical part of you, that knows you cannot just sweep every self conscious doubt under the rug and move on. 

"I just want some time," you tell him, and his shoulders tense as you speak. "Not to—not to break up. Or even for us to have a break. I don't want that. I've just felt very... unloved. Like you're merely tolerating my presence in your life. And now, I know you aren't. But I have to find my confidence in myself in this relationship again before I can move on."

"Okay," his voice is strained as he speaks, and you know he's not exactly content with your request for space.

You try not to focus on that, in order to stand firm in your decision. 

That is where the conversation ends. And just like every other night, he climbs into bed and leaves a considerable amount of distance between your two bodies. You choose not to dwell on it, because this is now him giving you the space you so politely requested. You were catastrophising, and you'd be damned if you let such a thing control your life any longer. 

It maybe wasn't all in your head, but you still had to take the self doubt shaped dagger from your stomach out.

now i'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life. (line 30)

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[v6quewrlds]

❝ darling, j. bellingham. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: your boyfriend jude has been nothing but sweet the entire time you've been together. who knew a number 10 jersey with his name on the back would affect him so much?

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: first lil fic for jude <3. partially inspired by the 3-0 win over greece, but if it happened at wembley instead. really tried with the brit slang, someone pls confirm if it's shirt instead of jersey lol. day seven of my no nut november series.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, established relationship, trent being trent, oral fixation (kinda), oral sex (69), american writing english people.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: jude bellingham x reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 2.2k.

"You look stunning babes!" Tolami practically shrieked as your approached the cluster of WAGs, her eyes sparkling with excitement. The group of stylish women, all dressed to the nines in various shades of red and white to support the team, were huddled together, greeting each other after several months away at their partners' respective clubs. You had gone all out for today's match, your nails painted in the team's colors and your hair styled in perfectly poised waves that highlighted your cheekbones and the delicate gold hoops that danced against your neck.

"Thanks, love," you replied with a warm smile, giving your friend a quick hug. "I couldn't be caught looking anything less than leng next to you."

You glanced around the exclusive VIP area, your eyes scanning the pitch where the players were beginning their warm-ups. The electric atmosphere of the stadium was palpable, the throb of excitement pulsing through the air. The scent of freshly cut grass and the distant murmur of the crowd grew louder as you and Tolami took their seats.

During the match, your eyes never left Jude. His agility and precision on the pitch were mesmerizing, and you couldn't help but feel a swell of pride watching him command the midfield. Each time he looked up at your section, his gaze searching for yours, you felt a flutter in your stomach. When he scored the game's second goal with a powerful strike from just outside the box, the women erupted in cheers, and you were on your feet, your hands covering your mouth in shock and delight.

After the final whistle, the team huddled together, their faces a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. The crowd's roar was deafening as the players began to make their way towards the tunnel, and your heart raced in anticipation. He raised his hand up, gesturing for you to wait, and you nodded, your cheeks heating up under the ooh's of the other girls.

Once the team had disappeared into the depths of the stadium, you made your way down to the VIP lounge. The thrill of victory still hung in the air, mingling with the faint scent of sweat and the tang of energy drinks. You chatted idly with Tolami and Megan as you waited for the players to emerge from the locker room, your laughter echoing off the walls. When Jude finally appeared, Trent Alexander-Arnold by his side, your shoulder relaxed in relief.

"Y/N," the Liverpool man called out to you, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "How's Jude holding up with that No Nut November bet? You keeping him honest, yeah?"

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a sigh at the juvenile banter that was a staple of the footballers' friendship. "Unfortunately, he's been a saint."

"It's only a matter of time before Trent gives up," Jude said, his own grin spreading as he approached the group of you. "Don't jinx it."

You playfully swiped at him, your eyes lighting up. "You know I believe in you."

Jude leaned down to kiss your cheek. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

As the two of you walked out of the stadium, the cool evening air a welcome contrast to the heat of the game, Jude's hand found yours, his grip firm and possessive. The short drive to your flat seemed to take forever, the silence between you charged with unspoken thoughts. The streets of London were alive with fans, their cheers and chants a distant backdrop to your own private world.

Once inside, you slipped out of your shoes with a sigh of relief, and Jude's eyes followed your every move. He couldn't take his gaze off the England crest and his name emblazoned on the back of your shirt.

"You know, it's weird," he began, his voice a little rough. "Seeing you with my name on your back... it's like you're mine. Like, really mine."

You turned to face him, a smirk playing on your lips. "Is that all it takes to make me yours?"

Jude took a step closer, his eyes darkening. "You know it's more than that, babe." He reached out, his fingers tracing the letters of his surname on the fabric of your shirt. "But seeing you wear this, supporting me with my name on your back, it just makes me want to show you off."

You felt a thrill run through you at his words. You stepped closer, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes. "What's stopping you, Bellingham?"

Jude didn't need any further encouragement. He pulled you into his arms, kissing you with a hunger that surprised you. His hands roamed over your body, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. You could feel his heart racing against your chest, the warmth of his skin melting through the cool material of the shirt. You stumbled into the bedroom, your kisses growing more urgent as you went.

You broke away, your breathing heavy, and looked at him with a glint of challenge in your eyes. "You know, if you want to keep that bet with Trent..."

Jude's smoldering gaze stuck to your face as he peeled the shirt over your head, revealing the lacy lingerie you had chosen just in case. "We don't have to tell him," he murmured against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin lightly as his voice rumbled deliciously down your spine.

With a laugh that was half moan, you stepped away from him, slipping out of your jeans. "You're so full of it," you said, your voice breathless with excitement. "You can't just cheat your way out of a bet. What's the point?"

Jude's eyes never left yours as he shed his own clothes, his eyes dark with desire. "Who said anything about cheating?" he murmured, advancing on you with a predatory grace. "I'm just saying, a man's got needs, and you're looking too good. Who am I to resist what's mine?"

You felt a shiver of excitement run down your spine as Jude reached out, his fingertips tracing the edge of your bra. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, the air between the two of you crackling with sexual tension. "You're insatiable," you whispered, your voice a little shaky.

"Just for you," Jude said, his voice a gruff promise. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones as he kissed you again, deep and demanding. His touch was possessive, leaving no doubt in your mind that he meant every word. Your own hands roamed over his muscular chest, nails scraping lightly against his skin.

With a growl, he picked you up, carrying you to the bed as if you weighed nothing at all. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your body fitting against his like they were two pieces of a puzzle. The bedroom was a blur of movement as you tumbled onto the bed, the soft sheets contrasting with the hardness of his body. Jude's kisses grew more insistent, his tongue exploring the depths of your mouth as his hands moved to the clasp of your bra.

The sound of the fabric giving way was lost in your muffled moans. His thumbs grazed your nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. You arched into his touch, your skin flushing with desire. "Jude," you gasped, your voice a whimper of need. He broke the kiss, his eyes raking over your exposed chest with a look that seemed to blister your skin.

Without wasting a moment, Jude's mouth found your breasts, his teeth grazing the sensitive peaks before his tongue swirled around them. Your breath hitched, your fingernails digging into his back as the sensation washed over you. "Jude, more, please," you begged, your voice a throaty whisper. Jude's mouth continued its movements as he complied, his teeth tugging gently before his mouth closed around your nipple, suckling with a fervor that had your back arching off the bed.

Jude's hands roamed your body, his thumbs dipping into your waistband to tease the sensitive flesh just above your hips. Your hands weren't idle either, exploring the planes of his back, your nails scraping against the firm muscles as you pulled him closer.

With a sudden jolt of energy, you rolled the two of you over so you were on top, straddling him. "My turn," you whispered, your eyes sparkling with arousal. Your fingers traced the line of his jaw before you leaned down to kiss him, your teeth grazing his bottom lip before your tongue darted out to taste him. His hands moved to your hips, his grip tightening as you began to rock against him, feeling his length grow beneath you.

Jude's breath hitched as you kissed along his neck, your teeth scraping the sensitive skin just enough to make him shiver. He could feel the heat building between you two, the need growing more intense with every passing moment. "Serena," he groaned, his voice thick with want.

With a wicked smile, you slid off him, your eyes studying his face as you reached for his boxers. You took your time, enjoying the way his body reacted to your every touch. Finally, you pulled them down, revealing his hard length. You took him in your hand, stroking him gently, watching his reaction with a sense of power that thrilled you to the core.

Jude's eyes rolled back, his hips bucking upward as you touched him. "Fuck," he muttered, his hand coming up to cover yours, guiding your movements. "You're killing me, babe."

Your smile grew wider as you leaned into him, your breath hot against his skin. "Good things come to those who wait," you sang under your breath, your teeth grazing his earlobe. You kissed a trail down his chest, your tongue tracing the lines of his abs before finally reaching his cock. You took him into your mouth, the velvet heat of your lips wrapping around him, your tongue swirling in a way that made him groan.

His hands tangled in your hair as you took him deeper, your movements deliberate and teasing. He could feel the tension in his body winding tighter and tighter, the urge to push you down and fuck you senseless growing stronger with every passing second. "Babe, hold on," he ground out, his voice tight with restraint. "Sit on my face, 69. Wanna taste you."

With a light giggle, you complied, straddling his head. The scent of your arousal filled the room, making his mouth water as his tongue found your clit. You gasped, your movements faltering as you focused on the delicious sensation of his mouth on you. Your hand stroked him in time with his tongue, the sound of your moans mixing with the wetness of your desire.

Your body began to tense, your movements growing more frantic as you felt the orgasm building within you. Jude's hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he continued to devour you, his tongue flicking and swirling in a pattern that had you seeing stars. "Oh god," you whispered, your voice a hoarse plea.

Jude felt your thighs tighten around his head, your body shaking with the beginnings of climax. With a triumphant groan, he pushed his tongue deeper, feeling your muscles spasm as you came. Your hips rocked against his face, your tongue still working his cock. The sensation was overwhelming, and with a final, desperate stroke, he too reached the edge, his body tensing as he released into your mouth.

You sat up, swiping your tongue across your lips, a smug smile playing on your face as you turned to face your boyfriend. Jude all but whimpered as your mouth fell open to reveal you had swallowed him completely. With a giggle, you watched as Jude lay there, his chest heaving, his eyes closed in bliss.

"All this over a shirt?" you teased, your voice filled with a mix of satisfaction and amusement.

"It's not just the shirt," he murmured, his eyes finally opening to meet yours. "It's knowing that you're mine, that you're supporting me in every way possible." He reached up, his fingers tracing the outline of your cheek, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "That I'm the one who gets to take you home after games like this."

The words sent a thrill through you, and you leaned down to kiss him deeply, tasting yourself on his lips. Jude's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, his hands roaming over your body in a silent show of strength and possession.

Your bodies were slick with sweat, your hearts pounding in unison as you broke away, panting for air. Jude rolled you over again, his muscles flexing as he positioned himself above you, his cock still hard and demanding. "Round two?" he asked, his voice a seductive purr.

Your eyes widened, your chest heaving with the aftershocks of pleasure. "You're unbelievable," you whispered, but you didn't protest as he nudged your thighs apart. Jude's gaze was intense, his eyes dark with lust as he settled between your legs, his cock pressing against your entrance. You felt the heat of him, the promise of more pleasure, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him closer.

[peachsayshi]

// brutally soft // II. 

baby daddy!sukuna x reader 

tags: non curse au; fluff; tension; reader and sukuna are co-parents; girl dad sukuna; mentions troubled past with sukuna; alludes to significant size different; sukuna being extremely soft | wc: x | read this for more context & this

note: you and sukuna attend your daughter's winter performance at school

dni if your blog is blank / ageless / or are a minor

your lips part, eyes widening as the crisp air stings the tip of your nose.

you take sukuna in - his tall body leaning against the pillar of the kindergarten in an outfit that's far too sharp than anything you've ever seen him in.

an overcoat, pressed matching colored slacks, a leather belt with a shiny silver buckle, polished loafers and a dark charcoal turtleneck hugging all the muscle he carries. the all black attire highlights his fiery hair and silver piercings glittering underneath the warm light. he has one hand in his pocket, the other flicking through his phone screen.

your heart hammers. the space between your leg pulses.

he looks so good.

you step forward, the heel of your boot climbing up the concrete stairs. he looks up when he hears you approaching, and stands upright to greet you with a warm smile. "hey," he states calmly, berry tinted irises tracking down your body to subtly check you out.

"hi," you reply, but it comes out as a breathy whisper. sukuna rarely ever dressed up like this. he was a t-shirt and jeans kind of guy. he owned one denim and one leather jacket. he loved worn band tees, gym attire and cut out shirts. he hated spending money on clothes because he found it "frivolous" and instead would blow it on his motorbike, booze, and weed. he rented a suit once and complained the entire time. but this...

"you look," you stammered, unable to ignore the slight spark that ignited between the space where you both stood. "you look really good, ryo..."

he runs his hand over his freshly trimmed undercut, the scent of oak moss and wood wafting across your nose and making you picture an evergreen forest.

"thanks," he murmurs with a slight pout, his face falling into an honest expression of uncertainty. "I thought I overdid it a little..." "not at all, you look…fantastic…” you answer with a shake of your head and a firm word of reassurance. "this shit cost me an arm and a leg, but I had nothing else to wear tonight..." he huffed, before relaxing his stance. "glad it paid off at least" you furrow your brows softly, "you bought all this for her play?" a hint of pink kisses sukuna's cheeks and he averts his eyes shyly. "yeah, the brat keeps complaining about my scary clothes and shit..." your heart melts over the gesture.

when you think about how much sukuna cares for your daughter, how much he wants to prove to her and everyone else around him that he does, in fact, take his role as a father seriously, it makes you immensely proud of him.

you've seen the growth in the man.

the sukuna you knew five years ago and the man standing before you now were two completely different people.

and that fact messes with your head.

you swore to yourself that you would never take him back.

that you would never give him a second chance.

"anyway, shall we head inside? the show is about to start in fifteen minutes..." he interjects, cutting your thoughts abruptly before you even have a chance to tell him anything else.

you nod your head, and he casually places his palm against the small of your back to lead you inside.

the parents were cramped in the auditorium, the steel fold out chairs were uncomfortably cold but even more so for your former ex lover who was struggling to find a position for his large physique. after watching him suffer for a few minutes, you finally offered him your own seat on the aisle to give his legs a bit of breathing room.

"fucking hell, all this money we spend and they can't get some decent chairs in..." he complains and you chuckle as you bump his shoulder into his.

the performance was all about celebrating the seasons of the year and each class from the kindergarten were set to perform a specific season. the first batch of kids started with the spring season, where the kids sang and danced in little floral costumes as they taught the audience in question all about how spring brings abundance and the start of something new. the next scene moved into summer, where the performance transitioned to upbeat tempos as the kids celebrated the warmth that the season brings. the third scene transitoned to fall, where the colors of the set morphed into earth tones as the kids sang about the celebration of the harvest.

and finally it was the last scene to honor the beauty of the ice, cold winter. the scene where your daughter was performing. you nudge sukuna when you notice him dozing off, and he instantly perks upright to catch the part that he's been waiting for all night.

his face lights up when his daughter scampers onto the stage, dressed as a sparkling little snowflake. you both can see her eyes scanning the crowd, and her face brightens when she finds the two of you.

sukuna leans in to whisper in your ear, "she wanted to wear that from when she woke up this morning..."

"and did you let her?" you prod, teasing him over his softness towards her and knowing full well that she could have easily gotten her way with him.

"hell no. I wasn't going to deal with the mess of all that glitter," he answers back, your voices getting lower as the audience hushes.

the performance starts - your daughter is twirling and moving with confidence. she sings along with the choir and whenever you glance towards sukuna, you find him beaming with pride the entire time.

and then there was her big moment, her solo.

the one she has been going on and on about for weeks.

the spotlight shines on her as she takes center stage, her small hands squeezing into two tight balls as she shifts her weight from one foot to the next.

she's nervous, you can see it and it makes you itch with anticipation. you can't help but tug at sukuna's sleeve subconsciously, but the man responds by naturally taking your hand in his own.

your daughter swallows the lump in her throat, a hint of fear veiling her eyes as she glances to the side of the stage then back to the audience.

her eyes fall to you and sukuna once again, and the man simply meets her focus as he playfully waves his fingers in her direction.

her small hand relaxes, and she gives him a secret wave in return before easing her stance.

your eyes sting with tears at the interaction before she starts to sing.

you're holding your breath the entire time, pride sitting at your throat as you let go of sukuna to pull out your camera to record the entire thing. her confidence unfurls as she carries on her performance, making you think of all the afternoons and evenings she has spent performing her solo in front of you and probably sukuna while at home. by the end she takes a dramatic bow before returning to the rest of her cast.

you pause the video and turn to the man by your side who is applauding louder than everyone else in the room.

he looks at you with nothing but fulfillment.

"that's our girl," he says with a wolfish grin and cheeky wink, only triggering happy tears to fall.

sukuna drapes his arm around you, and you sling your own around his bicep in return, the other wiping away at your cheek. "yeah," you answer with a sniffle, "yeah it is"

for a moment your eyes lock, the two of forgetting your surroundings as the final song ensues.

“thank you for bringing her into my world,” sukuna murmurs, his lips merely inches from yours. but you don’t even pick up on the depth of what his gratitude even means.

you dab away at the dampness on your face. “that girl is your world, ryo” you tease but pause when you notice his face soften as he dips his gaze to your bottom lip.

“you both are.” he clarifies earnestly, but you are too stunned to speak.

he leans forward, and replicates what happened on the sofa just a few months ago by placing a small but innocent kiss on the corner of your lip.

“you both are.”