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ozzgin · 6 months ago

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Yandere! Circus

I've been wanting to draw some of my dolls for the longest time and this turned out to be my most detailed artwork so far :') And since I really love the circus, I thought I could turn this into an interactive story, too. Let me know what you think! Based on classic stock characters from Italian theatre, Commedia dell'arte. Content: gender neutral reader, horror, dark comedy, human and monster romance

You're finally here! Come on in, don't be afraid. Where is everyone else, you ask? Why, you're our only special guest, Darling (Y/N). This is all for you. Come, do not upset the Ringmaster. We will show you everything.

A night carnival? You've never heard of such a thing. Nonetheless, curiosity got the better of you when you found the trampled poster on your way back home. The actual message almost escaped your attention; you'd been too focused on the thick, ornate border, and the colorful, swirling patterns intricately filling the page.

"Last night in town! 'Wizard of Ozz' Night Circus, a mesmerizing show that will keep you glued to your seat. We're still searching for our Columbina. Perhaps you could become part of our story?"

Might as well check it out. Which is why you're currently here, in the outskirts, trying to find a walkable path among the weeds. It's dark and you can barely see anything in front of you. They're not trying very hard to provide an inviting atmosphere, you think to yourself.

Eventually, you discern a glimmer of light in the distance. You have found the circus tents.

The campsite is quiet and still, causing you to hesitate in your decision. Is it truly open?

There's a faint murmur coming from the main entrance. A small, melancholic Pierrot - when did he show up? - awaits by the heavy curtain, pale hands stretched out.

"Your ticket, Columbina", he announces with decorum. "Me and Arlecchino will show you any tent you want to visit. We are here to entertain you."

He ponders for a moment, before adding:

"I'm sure you'll like him more. He's a very alluring fellow. Me, on the other hand...Oh, forget it", he mumbles through pouting lips, ushering you inside.

"Aha! There's the star of our night! Our Columbina!"

A tall man in a pompous, glittery costume bounces towards you and lowers himself with a theatrical bow, giving your fingers a quick kiss. You pull your hand away, visibly bothered by the odd gesture.

"You keep calling me that. I'm (Y/N)", you argue.

"Yes, yes, of course we know that. Do ya take us for fools?" the Harlequin asks, kicking one foot in the air. The jingle of the bells at the tip of his shoe echoes across the hall. "You have, however - you must understand, yes? - you've entered Ringmaster's Circus. From now on, you are the Columbina to our play."

You raise your eyebrows in disbelief.

"Just like that? Why me, and not someone else?" you scan the surroundings, pursing your lips. "Where are the others?"

"Others?"

Harlequin makes an exaggeratedly shocked face and tilts his head towards Pierrot.

"What are they saying? You're the only one here, Columbina darling. After tonight, we-"

Pierrot's hand lands firmly on his friend's lips.

"You always talk too much. Always, always! And yet, you're the favorite. Of course you are. Oh, what pity, what misfortune", the pale young man laments. "We're wasting precious time."

They both burst into a little dance; a rather silly one, you think with an amused smile. Then, they place themselves besides the entrance, each one standing at one end, back straight and chins raised.

"Go on, go ahead, Columbina darling. This is your carnival. Choose any tent you'd like."

Pulcinella's Tent

The stage is pitch black, save for one spotlight contouring a patch of ground. You can see a large, colorful ball, and two feet clumsily rolling their way atop of it.

You chuckle at the sight. This must be the clown.

"No one can compete with Pulcinella's juggling", Pierrot declares somewhat monotonously. "His acrobatic spectacle has left many guests speechless, acting with such dexterity that one must wonder: is this truly the work of two hands?"

Lights flicker, allowing you to catch glimpses of smaller balls being thrown around. Juggling so many balls while bouncing around is indeed impressive.

"Rest assured, this is the art of one single man. Although four eyes are better than two."

The shadows are abruptly swallowed by spotlights, and you squint your eyes, adjusting to the brightness. A two-headed man continues his performance, throwing you the occasional cheeky smile.

"Ah, that is..." you place a hand over your mouth.

"A bother, truly", the Pierrot remarks, sitting next to you. "They're complete opposites."

He observes as both Pulcinella's heads tilt in your direction, visibly entranced. He sighs deeply:

"You'll love them either way. They're funny and entertaining, unlike me...A pathetic miser. Oh, if only I had half their charm!" he bemoans with a soft sob.

"Hey! Don't sadden my beloved like that", Pulcinella barks, jumping off the ball and running towards your seating with a comically merry jingle to accompany him.

You cannot help but marvel at the man in front of you.

"Enough of this, I've had enough! You don't get to decide yet, Pulcinella", Pierrot exclaims in sudden panic. He claws your wrist tightly and pulls you after him. "It's time to see other tents."

Sandrone's Tent

You peek behind the heavy curtain and freeze. Are your eyes deceiving you? Someone is idly resting at the bottom of a large aquarium, showing no struggle despite being underwater. The mysterious man senses your presence and emerges to the surface.

"Would you look at that! I can't remember the last time I had a visitor."

He gestures for you to come closer.

"Are you the new guest? Our Columbina?"

"I don't know what you're talking about", you speak up with hesitation, eyes glued to the scaly tail that seems eerily genuine. "I think I'll be leaving now."

"Leaving? Didn't the Ringmaster already tell you?" The merman claps his hands, amused. "You're naïve, I like that a lot. Perhaps this time I'll be the one to have you."

He abruptly grabs your wrist, and you jolt at the feeling. His hands are ice-cold and moist.

"Let me have a look at you, won't you? I'll help you hide from the others if you're good and listen to me."

You feel a pair of hands sinking into your shoulders, and you're ripped away from the merman. Harlequin's voice rumbles deeply across the room.

"You're being a fox again, aren't you, Sandrone? Hands off our guest! You don't get to pick yet", he scolds in a low growl. "Ringmaster won't be happy about it."

"Go on then, tell on me! Ringmaster's good boy, eh?" the dark-skinned man smirks mockingly and slams his tail against the glass. "Put a collar on that one, Columbina. See how well he barks", he snarls, then slides back underwater and promptly vanishes.

Harlequin's grip on your shoulders becomes tighter for a brief moment. You can tell he's tense.

"Let's get you out of here. Don't listen to a word he says, Columbina darling. He lies, you see? No one trusts him. You should rely on me."

Pantalone's Tent

You gawk at the impressive height of this tent, head nearly spinning from tilting yourself all the way back. Ah, this must be the trapeze artist. Indeed, one of the two handles is dangling above you, and it occurs to you there's no safety net. A tall, lean man swiftly pounces across, reaching for the trapeze. His movements are slow, yet calculated, and you can't help but wonder if he might actually be flying instead.

Upon closer inspection, it appears he has no arms.

"Madness", you find yourself shouting. "Stop this nonsense!"

He gracefully wraps his legs around the bar, swinging back and forth with a confident smile.

"You doubt me, Pantalone himself?"

With another thrust, he lets himself go, spiraling down against your terrified protests. His heeled shoes clack against the hard tile. Lastly, he stretches out his bandaged stumps, as if signaling his successful landing.

You find yourself bowing to the grand gesture.

"Yes, yes, it's rather impressive, isn't it?" Pierrot follows behind you in his usual dull tone. "Pantalone is our master acrobat."

He lifts his gaze and notices that the man didn't bother waiting for a full introduction; he's already standing before you with a flirty grin.

"...and a charmer, I suppose. What, you're already doing your tricks?"

The sallow clown squeezes himself behind you two protectively.

"Shoo, shoo! Columbina is merely visiting."

He lightly pushes you away, towards the exit. You throw one final glance at the mysterious individual; he waves with his residual limb, and winks.

"You know where to find me, love."

Il Capitano's Tent

You feel a radiant heat coming from this tent. In the middle of the ring stands a grand cage. An animal of sorts? You keep your distance, observing from the benches.

A monstrous giant stumbles within your view with heavy steps. A thick, scaly tail rattles the bars of the cage, swinging itself with the precision of a bullwhip.

"Il Capitano himself!" the Harelquin announces theatrically, bending his arms in the direction of the blue beast. "The strongman, the fire-spitting artist, a most devilish creature captured and chained by our Ringmaster."

"Is this one mine?" the monstrous man pins you down with a predatory gaze.

"Perhaps", Harlequin spits out bitterly. "They decide, not you."

You squirm in your seat, suddenly much smaller under his intense stare. The charismatic guide's smile falters for a brief second, replaced by an envious grimace.

Il Capitano inhales deeply, expanding his torso and contracting his muscles. His fanged mouth then unhinges, releasing a great flame which spreads all the way to you. You're almost tempted to reach towards it, feeling the sting with your very fingers.

"Amazing", you mumble, still mesmerized by the spectacle.

This was no cheap trickery. Capitano is truly a one-of-a-kind artist. No human could replicate such a feat.

The beastly creature holds onto the bars of his cage, shoving his snout outside and grinning. Puffs of smoke escape between his teeth.

"Come down here and I can do even more, little one."

Harlequin gasps and gestures for you to stand up.

"Outrageous! How dare you-!"

He urges you to follow him outside. Enough monstrous sights for now.

"Shall we head towards the other tents, darling?"

Harlequin walks ahead, deep in contemplation. Pierrot scurries after him, whispering the remaining choices. Your shoulders are heavy, and you're quite tired from the eventful night.

You notice a little opening between the lavish curtain folds and decide to sneak away. They needn't know about your departure. You stumble around dark halls, following the cool breeze of the outside, until you're met with the starry sky.

Your path is blocked by two large poles, so you step to the right. Your body freezes in terror when they move with you. Slowly, you raise your head and follow the black shapes, and realize they're legs.

Far, far above ground, towering over the entire circus, you see two glowing eyes.

It's the Ringmaster.

"Bad, bad Columbina", he reproaches.

The voice is off, like an old, broken record reverberating against your eardrums. A cold shiver runs across your spine.

"I'm sorry", you blurt out in fear.

A long, bony hand appears before you, twitching with a loud pop. You wrap your hands around a finger, desperate to not anger this unholy creation.

"Let's take you to your caravan. We're leaving tomorrow."

Oh, God. What have you done?

Now, now, don't fret. There's nothing to be afraid of. Come, put that frown aside. Everyone loves you here. After all, you're their most precious Columbina. What's a Circus without its treasure?

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valtsv · 14 days ago

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can you pitch tsv to me fandom propaganda style… like sell it to me. hook me in. what is it about

the silt verses is a folk horror/political satire/weird fiction podcast set in an alternate ambiguously modern-day reality that asks the question "what if gods (and their saints, and angels, and miracles) were real? what if they formed the core infrastructure of the society you lived in? what if they were sustained by human belief and sacrifice? what if this was just the accepted Way Things Are?" and then introduces you to a cast of characters for whom this is their normal daily routine, and shakes them up through a series of intersecting arcs and plotlines. it deals with a lot of compelling themes - including identity and personhood, how institutions of power are formed and maintained and the potential for abuses of that power even by the most well-intentioned who wield it, action vs. rhetoric and the power of words; whose story is worth telling and whose is erased or adulterated by those privileged enough to write the version that becomes the widely accepted canon, and how struggles for control of something as conceptual as narrative can become very real and legitimate fights for the right to have one's autonomy and personhood recognised, human connection and why it's both so valuable and so destructive, etc. - but the central question it unceasingly begs is "why do we continue to live like this? why do we accept that this is all there is? what will it take for us to care about what's happening all around us, every day, right before our very eyes? what will you do when you realise you've spent your whole life drowning, and every option for relief comes at a cost? how long can you keep telling yourself that you're not really drowning before the water closes in over your head and swallows you like all those before you?"

tsv takes a magnifying glass to the horrifying exploitation and cruelty that so much of our own society runs on, and literalises it, leading to what is often rather heavy-handed satire bordering on the parodic - but it does so with such grace and unflinching, grounded honesty, without preaching to its audience but without letting them off the hook, either. it recognises that we are all both complicit in and victims of our own collective slow grind towards annihilation, and it asks us "isn't this absurd? isn't this horrifying? is this really all there is? is there nothing we can do in the face of this seemingly insurmountable, inescapable self-defeating routine-turned-ritual? why should we, or shouldn't we, care? why should we, or shouldn't we, try to make a difference?" and it's brave enough to admit that it doesn't have all the answers. but it still tries. because the silt verses is, fundamentally, a story about hope - real hope; the difficult, unglorious, unrelentingly in need of maintenance kind that is, nevertheless, still worth every effort to inspire it. the silt verses is a story about why we get up in the morning and try again, even though it might never be enough.

it's also a very character-driven story, and the character writing is truly second to none. every character is a person, in all their infinite messy, human complexity. every character has the capacity for abject cruelty and incredible kindness; to be a significant influence on their reality and to be utterly meaningless in the wider context of things; every character has the potential to be both the hand that pulls someone to their feet in their hour of need, and the boot that grinds them further into the dirt, and every character is both of these things, at some point or another, to someone. every character is both the martyr and the one holding the knife. no character is a saint - not even the actual, literal saints. and while this isn't necessarily something that should be used as a selling point, the way this podcast handles the diversity of identity is fantastic, and never used tokenistically, or as a character's sole defining trait (though not all aspects of identity get equal consideration; the creator has acknowledged that he didn't tackle race as a topic much beyond examining the developmental factors of broad strokes "us vs. them" nationalistic identities, and the arbitrary nature of patriotic loyalty to one's nation when it runs on the same oppressive systems as that which is painted the aggressor, and some fans have pointed out that while diversity of gender and one's lived experiences according to one's gender identity gets plenty of focus, some things are left to implication and inference in a way that doesn't necessarily strengthen the story's themes).

anyway. not sure this is the "fandom propaganda style" pitch you asked for, but listen to the silt verses. it's a brilliant work of fiction and to my mind deserves to be considered a landmark piece of art (even if that does mean that some of my more fandombrained takes would likely come to be seen as unflattering misconstrusions of the source material that betray my personal deficiencies. well whatever it was fun i had fun.)

#the silt verses

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zorosangell · 3 months ago

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I love your stories!! Maybe a Zoro x princess!reader would be interesting? She ran away and became a pirate of the crew, but she is still very formal and polite while Zoro is... Zoro 😂😂

⛥ﾟ・。 knight

synopsis: as a princess, you constantly have a bounty on your head, which means you are almost always under attack whenever the crew docks on an island. so, after zoro saves you from being kidnapped again, you both have a heart to heart... which ends in a little confession.

cw: fluffy fluff, comfort, reader talks very proper, reader's a little dense, zoro's a little emotionally constipated

"Get the princess!" the leader of the thugs shouted, swords drawn as the huge gang chased after you.

Hastily, Zoro attempted to cut a nearby corner, teetering to the side a little bit before he stabilized and continued to sprint down the street.

"What the hell were you thinking, huh?!" he panted, brows furrowed at he glanced at you, who was thrown over his shoulder. "I leave you alone for two seconds! And somehow you find a way to grab the attention of every damn criminal in town!"

"I was thirsty!" you exclaimed, defensively. "I thought I was going into a bar!"

"It was obviously a bounty hunter's nest!" he fired back.

"How was I supposed to know that?!"

"It was called the Killshot! And had a sign hanging outside with a picture of a gun!"

"I thought it was just a colorful theme!"

Zoro groaned, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head as he cursed whatever god that allowed this to happen yet again.

One of these days, he was gonna pretend he didn't see anything.

You were a princess, plain and simple, heir to the throne of some far off kingdom in the New World.

Ever since you were a little girl, you'd longed for adventure, not wanting your world to be confined to the walls of your castle, or the borders of your kingdom.

So, you promised yourself that the moment you turned eighteen, you'd run away.

And that's exactly what you did.

Though, in hindsight, it was probably not the best decision, as you had absolutely no idea how the outside world worked.

Still, somehow by fate or by fortune, your clueless self had managed to make it all the way to Loguetown, where the crew saved you from a few assassins.

Thus, you became the Strawhat's resident princess and diplomat.

And Zoro's resident pain in the ass.

Whenever the crew docked on a new island, you always insisted on exploring it yourself, excited to see the new sights and sounds.

And, like clockwork, you always found some way to call unwanted attention to yourself, the swordsman always finding himself in close proximity.

He had half the mind to think you did it on purpose.

Brows furrowed, his feet picked up speed, muttering intelligible things to himself.

'Princess be damned... no woman's worth this much trouble...'

Out the corner of his eye, Zoro peeped an alley not too far away, quickly running to duck inside it.

Dropping you to your feet, his strong hands grabbed your shoulders, yanking you into the shadows and covering your mouth as you let out a tiny yelp, eyes widening.

'Brute!'

You'd never been handled with such lack of care...

Back home, you were referred to as the Crowned Jewel of the Kingdom, known far and wide for your beauty and kindness.

Many often sang your praises, sending you buckets upon buckets of fan mail and writing songs about the prosperity your family had brought to the kingdom.

And the few that actually got to touch you did so with the utmost care, often reverently.

Meanwhile... this man talked to you as if you were an incompetent child, and tossed you around as if you were some sort of rag-doll.

Safe to say, it was quite the culture shock.

As the large group of men passed, Zoro tightened his grip on you, watching closely they examined the shops and stalls outside—some of them having split up to search quicker.

"Coulda sworn they were right here..." one of them grumbled under his breath, brows furrowed.

The dark-haired man paused, giving the space one more once over before turning to the others, sheathing his sword with an annoyed sigh.

"Looks like we lost 'em. Let's circle back to where we found 'em and see if that redhead knows anything."

Your eyes widened, knowing exactly who he was talking about.

"Nami!" you whimpered, forcing Zoro's calloused hand to press harder into your face to muffle the noise.

"Quiet," his deep, rough voice ordered, tone leaving no room for argument.

Suspicious, the man glanced in your direction, narrowing his eyes at the darkness as he looked directly at you—though he didn't know it.

Your heart stopped, your entire body freezing up as both you and Zoro stayed as still as statues, pressing firmer against the wall of the alley to avoid being revealed as he left.

And once he was completely one, you both let out a sigh of relief, your shoulders dropping as the tension finally oozed out your back.

"Are you stupid or something?" Zoro spat, curtly, brows furrowed. "You could've gotten us both caught!"

"I already expressed my apologies! It was not on purpose!" you countered, throwing your hands up in the air. "I simply wanted something to drink, but then those thugs just grabbed me! And did so without asking!"

Zoro let out another sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as he hung his head.

You couldn't be serious...

"They're bounty hunters, (y/n)... they're not gonna ask permission to kidnap you."

"I'm afraid I just learned that firsthand," you huffed, a small pout gracing your lips and you leaned against the wall, crossing your arms over your chest. "And after I was so generous... I even offered to negotiate the terms over lunch."

With a raised brow, Zoro leaned against the wall with you, confused.

"Terms?"

"A closed contract between me and all affiliates of the Killshot gang that would have guaranteed my continued residency with the Strawhat crew in exchange for a sum total of five-hundred million berries, paid monthly or in advance, depending on their preference."

The swordsman nearly choked on the air he was taking in, floored by the number you said so casually.

"Five-hundred million?!"

You nodded, plainly, confused by his surprise.

"Money is no object for my family. Especially pertaining to my safety," you shrugged. "I extend that offer to my friends, as well. Back at the auction house on Sabaody, I would have happily bought Camie to save her... but Sir Raleigh had already beat me to the punch."

Slowly, a small smile crept onto the swordsman's face, the rigidness in his stance slowly morphing into one more relaxed.

'Well, I'll be damned...'

It was moments like these that he enjoyed, as he was actually offered a glimpse at your true self.

The woman that an entire kingdom absolutely adored.

Princess (y/n).

Sure, you were hard-headed at times, and completely clueless when it came to social interactions outside of high society.

But you had heart, and generosity that quite literally knew no bounds.

Just... maybe some self defense lessons were needed.

"I gotta teach you some hand to hand if you're gonna keep goin' on these little expeditions," he sighed, clearing his throat as he glanced down at the ground.

"Combat?" you scrunched your nose. "What is the point of that when I have you?"

The gears in his head came to a screeching halt, his head snapping over to you so fast, you'd think he'd have whiplash.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"You are a swordsman, are you not?" you raised a brow.

"Yes..."

"And you follow me around, yes?"

"I don't follow you around!"

The man flushed, face burning at your plainness.

"You are always there when I am in trouble."

"Yeah... well... that's 'cause I have shit luck..."

"But you care about me, right?"

Zoro froze, throat clamming up.

He had never been presented with questions like these before, and they were forcing him to think.

To read into why exactly he was always there whenever you called for help.

You were always within arms reach of him, the two of you seeming to just naturally float around each other, even as you did your daily routines.

And although you were far from his responsibility, Zoro couldn't understand why he felt the need to worry so much.

He knew million times over that the crew was capable of protecting you, and that if anything were to happen, Luffy or Sanji could more than adequately swoop in to your rescue.

But for some reason, reminding himself of that fact didn't subdue the concern that spiked in his chest when you left his line of sight, or the faint pang of panic in his breath.

'Dammit...'

Too many questions.

"I... yes," he answered, awkwardly.

Instantly, a warm smile broke out on your face, melting the swordsman's heart into a puddle on the floor.

"Then, that makes you my sworn sword!" you beamed, cheekily.

"Your sworn... what?"

"My sworn sword. My knight. My champion," you elaborated. "You stand by my side throughout my travels and keep me under your protection."

"I do WHAT?!"

"Is your hearing all right? You seem to be having a hard time processing what I am saying..."

"No, no... it's... it's not that..."

An uncomfortable silence suddenly settled over you both, the swordsman practically praying that the gang would come back so he could run you both back to the ship and escape the atmosphere.

You, on the other hand, had been feeling quite the opposite, wanting things to be settled right here and now.

Zoro had been your "crush"—lovingly dubbed by Nami—for over two years, and was the only person in the world that was consistently there for you, always rushing to your rescue without fail.

Despite his prickly exterior, and his sharp words, you could tell he was a kind, loyal, and compassionate man.

He just needed a little push.

Just then, the sound of running footsteps began to draw nearer to the mouth of the alley, your eyes shooting wide at the sound.

"Someone is coming!" you whispered, quickly turning to him .

Eyes doe wide, and breath quickened, you settled on something you'd read in a book once, hoping it would conceal your faces.

What possessed you to do it, you had no idea.

Pulling the man in by his robe, you smashed your lips into his, his eye shooting as wide as a saucer.

Everything had gone from zero to a hundred so fast.

Left was up.

Down was right.

But, in that moment, everything felt oddly right.

So, for the first time in his life, he caved, allowing his eye to flutter shut and his body to ease into the kiss.

Sliding your hands up, one of them cupped his face, while the other threw your arm around his neck, keeping him in place as he snaked his arms tightly around your waist, pulling you closer.

The kiss was electric, and, while very uncoordinated and eager, felt like liquid fire was coursing through your veins, pushing you forward.

Smoothly, the two of you shifted, Zoro pushing you up against the wall and tilting his head in order to get a better angle, deepening the kiss even further.

His hands gripped you even tighter, suddenly fearful he would float away if you didn't keep him grounded.

With your touch burning his skin and your scent flooding his nostrils, he felt like he was higher than the clouds, like this was heaven on earth.

Your lips were so damn soft...

Hell, you were so damn soft...

You washed over him like a wave of calm, the rhythm of the kiss lulling his worry-filled mind until the only thing he could think about was why the hell he didn't do this sooner.

"Aw, jeez! This is what you guys were doing all this time?!" Luffy exclaimed from the mouth of the alley, completely ruining the moment.

'Thats why...'

The two of you quickly threw yourselves off each other, faces burning with embarrassment as you looked in opposite directions.

"At least do that inside. You're gonna catch somethin' out here..." he shrugged, turning to walk away.

Your eyes shot wide, and you snapped your head over to the boy.

"Wait, Luffy, what did you think we were—?" "Don't wanna talk about it!"

"You idiot, we weren't—!" "M'not listening!"

You turned to the swordsman, brow raised in confusion.

"What is he talking about?"

Zoro's eye widened, and it finally donned on him that you hadn't been taught about... the birds and the bees.

'Christ...'

"I'll tell you another time," he sighed, talking your hand and leading you toward the exit of the alley. "Let's go back to the ship."

"Yes, of course!" you playfully bellowed. "Lead the way, knight!"

"I'm not your knight!"

"Whatever you say... knight..."

#zorosangell #one piece #one piece x reader #roronoa #roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro #zoro x reader #op

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themareverine · 24 days ago

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I love your Valentine’s Day challenge! I’d love a PG13 romp with Old Man Logan. Story of your own choosing! 💕

— Border of Sin

old man!Logan x wife!mutant!reader

tags: established relationship, dad!Logan, boy dad!Logan, some very minor mentions of titties, Logan being hot af. a/n: Lub, my resident oldman!Logan girlie, your wish is my command. Enjoy this, it can kinda go along with my A King & His Castle drabbles series.

☆ ── 💌FROM MARE WITH LOVE

Without counting, there’s no less than a dozen other things Logan could be doing right this minute.

The Chrysler could use a spray down from its usual veil of dust, he could go to the trouble of fixing the gap in the windowsill. Holes in the once-refinery floor are open, like portals to hell. Pinpricks of sunlight paint dilapidated patterns on the tin ceiling.

There’s always a growing list when the fortress to which you return is half standing on the brutal mesa.

And while the allure of a functional shelter does gnaw at his consciousness, it’s so much easier to ignore the demands of the house. To collapse onto the sagging couch parked in the center of the room, a chilled Heineken slung through swollen fingers.

Bones almost singing with relief, the couch creaks as he settles in. Sinks low, breathes deep in a rough way.

The last five days couldn’t have been longer, he thinks. Cursed by God, almost. It’s bachelorette season, hen parties are in full swing. And what’s better—the hens, after all, don’t really question the dents and scrapes of a late-model Chrysler. A limo faded from the sun and stained a few places—they just book the ride. Giggle when he steps out of the car, on his best behavior.

They flirt and bat their lashes, touch up their lipstick in his rearview. It's the standard, this time of year.

And Logan can’t mind the cash, not when there’s mouths to feed here in the shadow of his mantle. Laura is starting school; she outgrows clothing faster than anything he’s ever seen.

And his sweet wife, this little life she mothers here on the border shadows. She always finds things they need.

Last week it was a jump up in diapers, their son somehow managing to grow since the last time he’d held him close, which couldn't have been more than mere hours.

More groceries, always more food.

Things necessary for the everyday.

This little life, whisked away among the bluebonnets and desert roses that paint the mesa—it was undreamable. Never in his centuries of living would he ever imagine this kind of heartbeat, this direction.

Once, in more breaths than not, he’d cursed God for denying him love and life like other men he’d buried.

In others, he’d demanded solace. Intimate loneliness, to spare him the ache of loss.

Never had he asked for this, the bliss of two hands landing on his shoulders, fingers kneading into the meat of him like he’s sourdough on the chopping block, putty beneath her lethal, albeit slow, hands.

Parts of him are, he knows. She’s seen shades of him hell would shake a stick at. And it’s funny to think he’s only truly ever one blush from actually being sour, but she knew that — knows that, actively.

And yet she pursues him like only a lover can, chasing his sun. Stalking his lines. Running in and out of the shadows of his ambitions, his ghosts.

To many he was Wolverine, once. Trouble and a danger all cocktailed together, someone to respect. Unpredictable and bloodthirsty. Unforgiven, unholy, unwhole. Hopeless, even.

A murdering something that lacked boundaries, ethically bloody in every area that should’ve been black and white. A shattered glass ceiling with little else to do but break.

But, through those realities and phantoms — she is his Wolverine, and always had been. She corrected him, while shattering her own glass.

Weapon X had taken care of that, God ensured it. Designed her, carved her from the mountains of faraway earths, for him.

She protected him. Fought at his side. Gave her own blood, sacrificed her own life.

Able to hold back the world unlike anyone he’d ever seen, so little of her had set him free. So much of her, she’d offered at the altar of him and him alone.

To the world, they were Wolverine. A concept tied up in mythos and legend, less people and more thing to the commons of humanity.

“We’ll never be things, Logan,” he could still feel it knifing through the marrow of his breast, “We’re us. Together, apart—nothing short of hell will take that away. You remember that, now.”

Four decades together and she still had a way of touching him like it was the first time, her fingers a burning ice that shakes him all the way down. Rattles his cage, leaves him a little breathless. Shaky.

The bottle in his hand suddenly becomes all too heavy, and Logan rests it in his lap. Tips his head back to find her smiling down at him, tucks his hand along her cheek.

Her smile is coy.

“Hey stranger,” tone pitching fiercely low, her lashes flutter as she dips to brush her lips over the end of his nose, “you’re home. Didn’t hear you come in,” slow, missioning fingers slip down the length of his arm, to his chest.

“Finally all mine for the weekend, hm?”

She angles her head, gently biting at the soft spot behind his ear. And if it isn’t the hottest thing, Logan wouldn't ever know —he moves his head to give her full access, pulse pistoning hard beneath his skin. He can almost feel his own blood galloping as she smiles against the scruff of his beard, draped over the back of the couch.

Breathlessness shallows out her chest, the little catch of her chapped lips against his neck makes him hitch a breath of his own.

White hot pain behind his eyes sets his blood on fire, drives a stake of deep ache so far into his temple that it could cross his eyes.

He should stand, peel away from her.

Go stand under a rip-your-skin-off hot shower and collapse into a bed for no less than eight hours, find his strength.

But when she rests her chin on his shoulder, smiling at him while lazy fingers card through his hair, he can’t think of a better place to be than right here.

She looks so delicious – on the border of sin, just for him.

All for him.

Standing there in her favorite comfort clothes, too tight leggings and an off-the-shoulder t-shirt stained with Similac, smelling like their son.

If it wasn’t the picture of redemption, he’d be damned to hell.

A greatest achievement of his life, her here, like this. Their family. This little thing called life, that he calls his between every kiss, every glance to that photo he keeps pinned to the limo’s visor.

Only took two hundred-odd fucking years, and he was greedy. Selfish.

It’s enough to get him hard.

Like an unrelenting wolf licking at the marrow of a good kill, he manages a low growl as her fingers slip beneath the buttons of his shirt.

“Happy heart day, Logan,” He know the date, of course. She’d reminded him this morning, pinned up something pretty against the wall of their shared shower, “I’d rip mine out and give it to you, just to grow another, if you wanted me to.”

A visceral thing to envision the sick twist of his mind, but it punches low in the cradle of his cock.

Her smile grows, the little huff of her breath breaks him in half.

“We’re alone.”

“About fuckin’ time.”

Making a rough noise, he lashes out for her hand more brutal than he should, but it’s never mattered.

Without a hint of hesitation, he tugs her over the couch to straddle his lap—presses the inside of her wrist to his mouth. Licks at the flutter of her pulse and craves the zip of salt from her skin spreading along the flat of his tongue.

Holding her breath a little as she settles against his lap, her lashes are low as she studies the lines of his face—and there’s a lifetime of them, no less. Slow poison eats away at his living moments, haunts him in the long nights, drags these canyons through his face.

Adamantium in his bones sours every day, robs him of precious hours he, for the first time in his sorry life, would steal back if God allowed.

And she's nearly as flawless as the day he met her, all those years ago. Being chronically alive has never looked so glorious, he thinks — regenerative healing hasn’t ever done a body justice like hers. So tight and perfect, as she sinks her full weight against his chest, playing her fingers through his beard.

His prize for living, his reward for life.

Eyes flicking to the quirk of her mouth, he downs the rest of his beer and sends the bottle to the floor, eyes tracking the movement of her hands as she lifts away her shirt. It finds the floor behind them, somewhere—he can’t fathom any better view than watching her skin pebble in the cooler air of the evening.

The drop of her breasts, as she manages away a very deliberate piece of lingerie that, surprisingly, he’s never seen before.

He stays her hand before she can discard it, plucks it from her fingers. Rubbing lace between his fingers, his brow lifts curiously at her. A cheshire smile and a salacious lift of her shoulder spreads color across her chest, up her neck.

Blossoming on her cheeks, Logan doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of seeing the girlish little wonder of her slip between the stitches of who she is, and desires, to be.

“How’d you manage to slip this one past me, doll?”

They didn’t have packages delivered to the house. She rarely took Laura and the baby into town, and such a treat warranted a type of shopping he couldn’t imagine reasoning to an emotionally anorexic child.

Her tongue manages a wet, thick tsk as slow hands press her breasts together on his lap, looking like sin. Head cocking to the side, she manages a small peek from beneath her lashes, fully relishing in his attention as she adjusts her seat on his thighs.

Knees cutting into his hips a little tighter, her other hand moves to unclip her hair, tossing it away to the side.

“Had it delivered to the neighbors, of course,” her bottom lip curls in, tightening beneath the weight of her teeth, “She’s quite the honey. Laura has really taken to their horses.” Slipping forward, she teases the plush of his lip with a nail, a little breathless as her chest shallowly rises and falls, “Wanted to surprise you, Lo. You like it?”

The sing-song little tease behind the words make him groan, his hand connecting firmly with her hip as her fingers make quick work of his belt.

What a question.

“You’re still bad, after all this time,” tucking his finger beneath her chin, he hooks her attention up to his eyes. “Still causin’ trouble for the old Wolverine, huh, darlin'?”

By the glint of light in her eye, the honey in the lilt of her tone, he doesn’t have to tell her. But that’s half the fun of having a sweet, fucktoy of a wife built just for him.

If there was any praise to give to the Weapons Plus team, it was that alone — insatiable stamina, a cure-all for a hard fuck.

And she took as good as she gave, God be praised.

“Old?” She scoffs, shoving at his shoulder. “May be long in the tooth, but you ain’t old, Logan,” in a burst of white-hot speed, she flips their position expertly, with the strength he only knows his mutation gives her—forces his back to the cushions beneath her weight, pinning him in place as she sinks low to tease her tits against his chest.

“Stop thinkin’ so hard, and show me how much you like your present, yeah?”

He intakes a sharp breath when she slants her mouth over his, taking his low lip between her teeth in just the way that spins his senses. The chap of her lips is just enough to make him hungry—pulls a soft moan from the back of her throat.

Encouraging her tongue forward, his own dips into the slick heat of her mouth, hard and rough.

A breath or two, maybe. That's all it takes before she’s under him, taking him the way God intended. Slow and deep, pretty like a little thing.

But they aren't things. They never have been. Wolverine's, maybe, but never things.

And it's been one hell of a long week, sure—but never too long, not for this.

Never for this.

💌 tagging:

@sidkneeeee

@thevoicefromanotherworld

@misscrissfemmefatale

@eternallyfrustratedwriter

@permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88

@laaadygisbooornex3

@itsafullmoon

@kmc1989

@steviebbboi

@matronmothercrone

257 notes · View notes

midorimooon · 2 months ago

Text

pages from fiction | hawks x reader

summary - hawks discovers you read smutty manga ... about him. word count - 4k notes - some shameless smut for the new year featuring afab! reader and the birdman :) animated borders credit @/enchanthings-a warnings - smut, use of pet name, biting, teasing, oral (f!), PIV penetration, humor 18+ only!

You have a visitor… Not unwanted, just unexpected.

It’s around noon when you return to your apartment. You only manage to kick off your shoes when you find your friend, Hawks, on your sofa. His massive wings are pinned against the cushions, his gloves, headset, and eyewear discarded on the coffee table.

He must have entered through the balcony door, often left unlocked whenever he wanted to visit or take a break from patrol. It’s not an unusual thing to come home to, so you’re not put off by his appearance. He knows how to keep himself entertained while you’re out. Sometimes channel surfing, scrolling on his phone, or on occasion, napping on your sofa.

Today, he seems to be in the mood to read.

You take a few steps from the door, only to stop in your tracks as your eyes zero in on the book held in his hands.

Your good-natured greeting dies on your tongue, too shocked to process what you’re actually seeing.

It was a mistake, an oversight on your part, but you can’t take it back now. But if you could, you would have never left that book out in the open. Because you never intended for Hawks to find the doujinshi based off of him lying around where he could find it.

Hawks peers up, giving you a friendly onceover, way too calm for your liking that you blurt out, “It was Mirko.”

It was a gag gift from Mirko. In honor of April Fool’s Day that passed recently. Her sense of humor often involved teasing you for your crush on Hawks. So much, that opportunity knocked at the right time and she presented you with an explicit gift.

“Manga?” You had raised a brow at the offering. “A joke manga?” you added, taking it without a proper glance.

She grinned like a madwoman, urging you to give it more attention. “A niche kind of manga. Thought of you when I saw it.”

Flipping to the front cover, blood rushed to your face, jumpstarting your pulse.

Large, feathered wings, a bare chest, bedroom eyes that resembled your favorite Pro Hero with the very suggestive title—

“ A Hawks in Rut ,” Hawks recites aloud, bringing you back to the present. He rises to his feet, leveling you with a mischievous gaze.

You’re guilty, and he knows you are, because it’s the truth. Despite giving Mirko stick for the stunt, you didn’t turn down the gift. Nor did anything stop you from poring over each panel, deep into the night.

Your mind was in overdrive, inserting yourself in the heroine’s shoes as the manga-version of Hawks ravaged every inch of her. You didn’t even know stuff like this existed. Fan-made, X-rated content of Pro Heroes for public consumption? Is this even legal? You demanded to know where Mirko got this, but her lips were sealed.

You haven’t budged an inch, rooted to the spot by the door. Fight or flight, your mind crosses between two thoughts: snatch the manga back from Hawks or flee your own apartment.

Hawks pays your inner conflict no mind. And if he does, then he’s being a little shit about it. Because he approaches with a casual swagger, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other still holding the manga.

As he draws closer, your mind glitches, stuck on repeat. “It was Mirko.”

Hawks croons. “Aww, that’s cute. Giving you a manga using my likeness.”

“It was a joke,” comes your quick response.

“What part?” Hawks tilts his head. “The gift? The story? The drawings of me naked?”

Your eyes widen, mouth floundering. “No, no, no, Hawks—no! I wasn’t—” You weren’t poking fun at him if that’s what he means. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

His voice dials down to a husk. “Oh? So, tell me, birdy…”

Any attempt you make at a rational response is futile. Because hearing that pet name, the same one used in the manga—out of Hawks’s own mouth — turns your mind into cotton. It’s a sin how much you liked it, and it was criminal to want to hear it used again and again…

However, you gather your wits before you lose them entirely, keen to know, “How much of that did you read?”

From the amused sparkle in his eyes, it’s obvious Hawks has read more than enough. He puffs out a laugh. “Not much to ‘read’, really. Unless you mean the dialogue of...pleasure.” Another step closer and he’s haunting your space. “How much did you read?”

All of it in one sitting. Several times you tried to set the book down but couldn’t. Rather you were hooked, flipping through it, a budding warmth dampening the center of your thighs. By the end of it, you were dizzy and breathless, passing out with those lewd illustrations stamped behind your eyes. They invaded your dreams too. Hawks, nude, looming over you in bed…

“Birdy…” he singsongs, voice dripping with honey. “Lost you there for a second. Must have been a page-turner. The kind you read late at night, under the covers, maybe?”

Your pulse beats fast as he plucks your hand. “And this between your legs?” he whispers into your knuckles, warm breath turning into a soft kiss.

Without thinking, your hand reels back, incriminating yourself.

Hawks’s brows reach his hairline. “Oh…someone looks guilty. But what for?” He veers closer, until your back settles on the door.

He takes advantage of that, planting his hand against the wood, a hairsbreadth away from your head.

It’s only now you realize he’s not wearing his jacket. From the corners of your vision, all you see is strong, lean muscle that drags your gaze from his arm to his chest.

You want to have some sense of decorum, but how can you?

Of course, you always knew his hero uniform was on the snug side. Intended for streamlining in the air while remaining lightweight. But you never realized just how skin-tight it was. Like the fabric was painted on. It moves with his chest, sculpting its strength, outlining every inch of him in the best way.

Venturing a glimpse up, you’re met with a golden gaze, both predatory and beautiful, sending a shiver down your spine.

For a long moment, he holds your stare, the intensity of it making you weak-kneed.

“You know,” Hawks starts, flitting his attention back to the book. “Whoever drew these, they’re very creative. They did overexaggerate my eyes, however,” he laughs, turning a page. “Didn’t nail down my wingspan either. Can’t blame them. Too many feathers to draw. Not really the star of the show, right?”

Another turn of the page, the wrinkle of paper sounds like thunder.

“As for my dick…”

He’s shameless, having way too much fun toying with you. Testing your limits, like a predator with its prey.

He nods, contemplative, a look of appraisal. “…I’m flattered, they got something right.”

The mischief in his eyes has you averting your stare, anywhere else, only to brake at something beneath his belt.

It’s a silhouette at first, but as you gawk further, the impossible-to-ignore bulge strains within the confines of Hawks’s pants.

His eyes drop to his crotch, and he hums, “Speak of the devil.”

Nerves tie a knot in your throat. In classic Hawks fashion, he’s playful about it, blurring the line between seductive and casual. His serenity only leaves you more flustered as your imagination runs rampant, envisioning the details of Hawks’s cock.

But he’s not done yet. Hawks carries on, flipping through the book once more. “This looks like a fun position. Got to be really flexible to pull this off.”

This time, he turns the manga to your sights, and you almost swoon.

An entire, singular panel spans both pages. Hawks and the heroine on her bed, him hovering her very, very vulnerable form. Legs folded so tightly with her knees nearly touching her shoulders. And the only dialogue in the panel coming from Hawks: I’m gonna breed you like this.

You remember drooling over that panel for so long you needed reprieve before bed. The page was even dogeared because you were such a fucking perv.

He looms over, leaving a scant gap between your bodies. Move one inch and you’ll nudge his front. You’re stiff, doing the worst at ignoring his erection.

“And about my rut,” comes his voice again, sensuous as silk.

You swallow hard, skin prickling with heat that gathers between your thighs.

Up close, Hawks’s smirk only makes things worse or better…you’ve yet to decide. Regardless, the flash of his Colgate-smile, conspiratorial, pours sparks down your frame.

He tuts, the sound reaching your ears like a purr. “That silly rumor.”

You blink, pulled out of the fantasy for a moment. You were privy to the alleged spring rut that Hawks experienced. Or so you thought. You had boldly asked Mirko about it once, and she seemed to have more intel.

“That’s why he’s always on ‘special assignment’ for a few weeks,” she had alluded.

Social media and the tabloids were no different, publishing stories about how Hawks was once again missing in action from public hero events around April. The speculations circulated on the streets too that Hawks entering a rut every spring was practically decreed fact.

Except it might not be fact after all. Just fodder?

You look up at him, deeply curious, and mildly disappointed… “A rumor?”

You half-expect Hawks to burst into laughter. Perhaps even to bemoan the public’s misconception of him. But what you see instead is the look of a hunter striking his gaze.

You stammer, “So, it’s not true—?”

It happens in a flurry. You’re swept off your feet one second, and airborne, over Hawks’s shoulder the next. And the rest of your apartment glides past your sights.

Hawks drops you onto your bed, fingering the hem of your shirt.

Red feathers flutter around to assist. Hawks is hasty, dragging your shirt, while something sharp and swift cuts the back of your bra. The world is nothing but cotton and rustling fabric until your shirt is disposed.

You flop back onto the mattress, tits to the wind. Next, your jeans and underwear are dragged off without fanfare, And Hawks…despite his hurry, takes a pause, blowing out a wolf-whistle.

Sharp eyes rake your chest. “Look at that…there’s a fox hiding under those clothes.”

Your mind goes static with anticipation, entranced with the way Hawks shamelessly appraises your body.

There’s a dark and raptorial shift as Hawks’s gaze snaps to yours. He drops forward, wings flared out, casting a crimson eclipse from above.

“Hawks?”

His hand skims up your stomach, leaving a path of goosebumps in its wake before palming your breast. You mewl as he squeezes your flesh.

“You’re so soft,” he rasps, crawling over you, a predator ready to strike. “I can’t wait to leave my marks…” He seals that oath with a searing kiss.

It catches you by surprise, you try to keep up with his pace, but it’s all-consuming. Sloppy and hungry, a faint whimper falls out from your lips, but Hawks hears it.

He pulls back, a tendril of saliva breaking apart. “You want that too.” He grins, a growl scraping against his throat. “I can tell. Just fucking look at you. Naked, sprawled on your back, and…”

He trails off, eyes doing the same until they reach your center.

You’re so wet for him, the arousal leaking from your pussy long before he brought you to the bed.

Hawks bares his teeth like an animal. “Shit, you got yourself so messy.” He drags his nails up your plush thighs.

Your skin shivers under the possessive sting. “Hawks—I thought it was a rumor?”

“It is. But everything’s a rumor until proven true." A carnal edge curls around his words, leaving you clueless. “So—” you breathe. “Are you—are you really in rut—”

The details of the manga’s story are hazy now, you can only recall a few details.

Hawks requesting the heroine’s assistance in his lust-filled affliction. From there it went from zero to one hundred fast.

As you stare at Hawks now in the flesh, it’s like the pages from fiction have come to life.

“Hawks—” you gasp.

“ Keigo ,” he cuts you short, voice tight. “If you want me to stop, call me Hawks.” That playful side to him from earlier is nowhere to be seen. It’s been swallowed up by something else. “Call me by my real name…and I’ll keep going. Say my name, and I won’t stop .”

The choice is yours, hanging in the stagnant air. Your breathing is labored, dizzy, an ache gnaws at your stomach. From the way Hawks watches you, his chest stiffening as he sucks in a sharp breath, his willpower is withering.

You’ve always been careful using his real name. Security reasons, and because ‘Hawks’ was sewn tight within his identity. If you utter his actual name, you won’t be able to undo whatever he has planned.

It’s a thought you should consider. Rethink how this will affect your friendship with him going forward. How it will affect your own feelings. Despite the circumstances, he’s giving you the option, handing over the reins before he takes them back.

However, those principles elude you, overshadowed by your own selfish desire.

Your fate leaves your lips in a forbidden whisper, you’re not sure he hears it. “Keigo.”

But Keigo does, smug as he presses his lips onto yours in a passionate kiss. “That’s my birdy.”

You whine at the affection. Impatient, you weave your hands into his hair to draw him close. He indulges you for a moment, sliding his tongue inside of your mouth. He tastes of sweet coffee, the stroke of his tongue akin to a shot of espresso.

He releases a guttural moan. “Fuck…you’re a great kisser.” He deepens the kiss, stealing the air from your lungs.

Caught between half-breaths, your head spins.

“Stay still for me.” Keigo nips at your jaw before falling back on his haunches.

You comply, watching him peel at the neckline of his shirt with precision. Even so, he’s quick with it, wings folding together so that he can slip it off. It’s like an art form, the way his torso stretches, the deftness in his fingers working with the fabric, and the bend of his wings. By the time he’s shirtless, there’s more to see.

Toned muscle, a six-pack carved into the planes of his stomach, a happy trail sinking past his belt. All that hero training evident in his body, you imagine the same applies to his stamina. At least you’re soon to find out.

Keigo’s shirt lands somewhere in the room, humored to find you admiring his physique. “You’re the judge. Tell me, better than those drawings?”

The cockiness is distinct in his tone, a signature trait of his that you’ve always adored in secret. If the circumstances were different, you wouldn’t feed that ego of his. But pinned beneath him, a hot frustration simmers in your belly—you don’t care.

Mouth agape, you nod. Not an ounce of shame left in you.

Keigo lowers to kiss you again. From the sting of his teeth, you feel blood rushing to your lower lip. He scratches kisses on your neck then, sucking harshly at the skin, leaving marks by your pulse.

True to his earlier promise, Keigo takes a bite out of every part of you. Your throat, your collarbone, like he’s desperate to devour you before he misses his chance.

When he reaches your breast, you arch into him. “Keigo—”

You catch the low rumble in his throat, slotting your nipple with his mouth. He sucks harshly, the lewd noises spilling into the air, joining another gasp of his name from your lips.

He pulls back a little to grab your breasts in both hands, pressing them together to give them as much equal, hungry attention.

After a moment, Keigo’s attention skates downwards, thumbs pressing into your hip bones, wet kisses smattering all over your stomach.

Despite the sloppy pace, there’s a reverence in the way Keigo spoils your body. Almost ritualistic and innate. His touch searches and finds the right spots with ease, even parts of your body you didn’t realize were sensitive. Like your rib cage. He sinks his teeth there to leave a loving mark.

His pace dials down the lower he sinks, then stops when his eyes are reunited with your wet heat.

You can’t describe his expression beyond calling it a trance. Flushed cheeks, lidded eyes, a gaping maw scorching your pussy with his breaths. More surprising, is the loss of his silver-tongue. He licks his lips, but says nothing, like words would fail him if he tried. A certified yapper silenced.

Then his wings open up, feathers ruffling in light tremors. A few shake free and one lands between your breasts. You take it, running your thumb along the quill.

Keigo shivers. You lift a brow, stroking the feather again, watching him bristle. You don’t recall this happening in the manga.

“Keigo?” you utter and it’s like his senses snap together.

He blinks, eyes crawling up to meet yours. A predacious grin forms around his gaping mouth. “Still here, birdy. Just admiring this beautiful pussy of yours—”

Whatever restraint he had left fades in seconds. He tugs you closer and spreads your thighs wide. Dangling his tongue, he gives you another heated look. You watch a dribble of saliva meet your clit, the final warning before Keigo plunges his tongue deep inside of you.

Pleasure sparks under your skin, glimpses of stars enter your sights.

It’s all tongue, swiping and thrusting, while Keigo’s talons pierce into your thighs to keep you still. You tremble, already so close to reaching your peak, something Keigo seems privy to.

He switches to give your clit the most attention, demanding, “You better cum on my fucking face, birdy…”

That authority sends you spiraling, pure ecstasy bursts in your vision, cumming on his tongue. “Keigo!”

“That’s it, that’s it—” he chokes on a grunt, wings tense in the air. “That’s my birdy—fuck—make a mess!”

He slurps every drop, groaning like the pleasure is equally his.

Thigh twitching and muscles numb from being pinned down, you’re mindless as Keigo laps you up with an endless greed.

You’re not sure how much time has passed. Minutes? Or maybe only a few seconds, because Keigo gives your pussy a gentle kiss before he rises to look at you.

He smirks. “Still with me?”

You puff out a weak laugh. “Still here…”

Keigo crawls over, takes your jaw, rewarding you with a fiery kiss to the lips. His front nestles between your thighs. At the press of his erection, a whimper breaks loose from your throat.

“Not enough for you, huh? Want me to fuck you? Need me to stuff you with my cock?”

“Mhm…” is the only thing you manage.

Thankfully, Keigo doesn’t torture you any longer. He chuckles, sliding off the bed without looking away. “Make sure those eyes don’t roll out, baby,” he says in preamble, unbuckling his belt.

You prop yourself on your elbows, eager to watch him strip the last of his clothes. You don’t care how much of a voyeur you’re being. That ship has sailed.

Keigo slides his pants and boxers off in a hurry.

His cock springs out and a wave of renewed arousal washes over your body.

It’s…far better than the illustrations. Far better than your own fantasies. It’s impressive, it’s endowed .

It’s beautiful… Hard and thick, a vein wrapped around the shaft. The tip is flushed a deep red, topped with a pearl of pre-cum.

Keigo returns to the bed, casting his form of yours. His eyes ride up your stomach, over the valley of your breasts, then finally screech to a halt at your gaze.

You wonder what you must look like to him because a reflection of your own carnal desire stares back at you tenfold. Keigo’s sharp eyes, pupils blown in a dark vortex, pulling you in deeper. Beautiful, slick lips, agape as he takes a staggered breath.

He’s always been a master of control. But seeing him in this state triggers a new level of desire within you. For that resolve of his to chip away—to witness a raw, animalistic layer unravel.

The tip of his dick slides across your center. Rock hard and so fucking heavy, your hips buck up for more friction, turning you into a mewling mess.

Keigo, however, is no better than you, lust weighing his voice down like iron. “You ready for me?”

Another pitiful whine pours from your mouth. Words are difficult. Your mind has gone static, too frustrated to think.

A sharp hiss echoes from above. Keigo bites down on a grin. “Fuck…you’re a vision like this.” Strong hands press down on your thighs, a delicious ache, eclipsed with the feel of Keigo’s dick stroking the seam of your pussy. “Can’t hold back anymore.”

Desperation is caught between Keigo’s lidded eyes. A feral kind of hunger that matches a beast's after staving off for too long.

“Keigo…” you whine, your hand skims downwards to your pussy. Fingers splay out your folds in a plea.

“Oh…” Keigo groans, a shudder running from every feather down to his spine. “My name belongs in your mouth. Say it again.”

“Keigo.”

“Fuck…just like that.” He meshes his lips to yours with bruising force, consuming your moans. When he pushes off, he takes your legs, folding them at the knees to crush them between your bodies. “Gotta give you the real, authentic ‘Hawks’ experience,” he growls with a hint of humor.

His dick nudges your opening. Your pussy flutters, hoping to catch him. But Keigo does the rest, too impatient to wait, he pushes himself in. “Count the inches, baby.”

One...two...the stretch is intoxicating.

Three...four...his length pulses in your heat.

Five…six…seven…you lose count of the rest as Keigo buries it all to a hilt.

Together, you moan in bliss.

Keigo waits a moment for you to adjust and for him to bask in the way your walls suck him in. When that moment passes, he says, “Moving now.”

Your arms enfold around his neck as he pulls out fully and thrusts back in.

He fucks you with unbridled fervor. Keigo mutters a string of curses, reaching your ears like a melody. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re so fucking perfect.”

On impulse, your hand slides down to the base between his wings. You press into it, fingers knotting in his feathers.

“Ah—baby, my wings, yes, play with my wings—touch them—”

Between his thrusts inside of you and his pleas, your hands are clumsy brushing through the plumage. You lack any sort of technique, but Keigo responds in favor, moaning in your ear while his wings bristle at your touch.

The animalistic display sends a spark down to your center and you clench around his length.

Keigo chuckles, though it’s strained. “Shit, the way you just got even tighter now…fuck...you feel so fucking good—”

While his pace starts to lose rhythm, the stamina has yet to fail him, nor does he ever miss hitting your sensitive spots. Each sharp thrust brings you closer to your climax.

Keigo can read your body, gauging how close you are. “Let me feel you cum on my cock—please cum on my cock, birdy, fuck—”

It’s nothing but babbling from him now. He looks at you, a hint of vulnerability hidden in that feral vortex. And with a few more harsh strokes your senses bubble over and fizz into euphoria.

“That’s my birdy,” he rasps into your mouth, praising you with a loving kiss before he bucks his hips a few more times, triggering his own release.

He spills inside of you, warm and sticky, you savor the feeling as you both catch your breath. You also take the moment to cherish his appearance.

Dewy skin, pink cheeks, slick all over his lips and chin. Some strands of his classic windswept hair cling to his forehead. You brush them away, meeting his gaze.

He leans into your touch, slipping his arms beneath your back to draw you in and rain kisses all over your face.

Your laughter echoes in the room, your senses fluttering back like a loose feather.

Keigo gulps, taking another deep breath. “Well…that's my kind of page turner.”

You snort, bristling at the new onslaught of kisses on your neck. “Nothing compares to the real thing.”

Keigo coos into your pulse. “A book can only show you so much. It can stir that imagination of yours, but…” He kisses you on the lips. “It can’t fuck you. That’s what I'm meant for.”

After this, you doubt you’ll be able to look at the doujinshi the same way. That version of Hawks may have been a fun fantasy, but Keigo is much more special.

Without warning, you’re flipped over. You only register your face pressed into the sheets before Keigo hikes your hips up so that your ass is on full display. He rubs the tip of his dick against your slit. It’s already hard again, leaking against your folds.

He brushes the hair from your nape, folding over to whisper in your ear. “That was round one, birdy. Still got to mark up this pretty, delicate back of yours.”

You shudder with excitement, hoping you’ll be able to keep up with Keigo’s stamina. However long that lasts.

So, it’s true? He has a rut? He's in rut?

Keigo takes your hips in his hands, and you brace yourself, grasping onto the sheets. Whether it is or it isn’t, you don’t care to know.

..............................................

Mirko sends off the civilians she just rescued with a wave. The authorities will handle the rest as she returns to her patrol, maybe even grab a quick dinner beforehand.

She fishes for her phone in her suit’s pocket and considers maybe meeting up with other heroes if they’d like to join.

Tapping at the screen, she’s met with two notifications.

[You – 6:40pm]: Did I ever thank you for that manga? 😉🙏

[Hawks – 7:06pm]: I owe you one!!!

Mirko cackles. No questions, no explanations, no text replies needed. At least now, she knows to rule you and Hawks out for dinner plans tonight. “Pervs."

a/n: adding to the pile of 'hawks in rut' stories with my own twist! hope you enjoyed! and happy 2025!!

#bnha x reader #hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo x you #mha x reader #mha smut #bnha smut #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia x reader #keigo x reader #hawks

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germiyahu · 26 days ago

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The smugness of this is taking me out 😭 no historians, zero percent, actually think there's evidence of an ancient Davidic Empire that extended to those borders in the thumbnail. Many religious people believe it to be true, and no offense to them, but there was never a United Kingdom of Israel during the First Temple Period. However, these antisemitic troll channels will never contend with the irrefutable historical record on the Kingdom of Iudaea, which had diplomatic relations with, and later conflict with, Rome. Kind of hard to deny that that was a real Jewish state in the southern Levant, no?

If they're even smart enough to acknowledge Judea, it's usually brushed aside with some "Yeah but Judaism as we know it today didn't even exist at that time." The conceit being that modern Rabbinical Judaism is some grand lie or conspiracy. Anything and everything Jews do is shady and duplicitous after all. They not only want to break off Jewish history after the destruction of the First Temple, but also the Second. "No see your alleged people's culture and history and spiritual practices changed, were they ever real in the first place 🤣? No, you're not a nation, ignore the bevvy of 19th century philosophers who laid the foundation for Zionism as a political movement which centered on Jewish Peoplehood as its own ethnic group, First Temple "Judaism" was actually polytheistic lol! And that's why Israel intends colonize Iraq and Egypt and also are orchestrating the replacement of the white ra- 🤓"

I didn't watch this video, I don't need to. I saw enough of the comments and more recommended videos from this channel to know what I already knew: this person is a rabid antisemitic conspiracy theorist and their audience is mostly made up of the same. Every comment under the sun from "the Israel lobby" to "chosen people lol" to "what they don't realize is that they're not the only semites." It's tedious.

I'm so bored with people who refuse to learn about Jewish history, who revel in their own ignorance as they decide who the Jewish people were and are, and why they have done all the things they've done. They don't want a Jewish perspective, that's tantamount to "brainwashing." Making up stories and relaying secondhand theories from people who unironically peddle in blood libels is "waking up from brainwashing." And when you only accept information about a historically persecuted and vulnerable minority group from people outside that group on the pretext that said group is too dangerous and powerful and ill-intentioned to tell their own story... how are you not a bigot? That's more than bigotry, that's like one step away from a call to violence in my mind.

#antisemitism #judea #iudaea

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 6 months ago

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//sorry guys i know i already posted this but i'm reposting it so the masses can see okay awesome so sorry about this it's rather filthy

oh this is an old man logan fic inspired by colors by halsey you know the one

18+

"everything is gray/ his hair, his smoke, his dreams/and now he's so devoid of color/he don't know what it means."

-colors by halsey

i'm really specifically thinking about a relationship with him that starts out sort of casual-- you're young, spending busy days running around in some office, being some rich asshole's favorite thing to boss around.

but at night, you're his. and perhaps even more valuable, he's yours. sure, he drives people around, but on his nights off, he spends long nights that are too short in the shitty studio apartment you rent. he fucks you into the sheets that used to live in your college dorm room, and you are mesmerized by the gray of his beard (and maybe a little bit by the fact that he has such a beard).

one time, he wears pulls out these reading glasses and--

well--

he's sitting on the end of your bed, fumbling with an old book you wanted him to read. he's never been much of a reader, but he thinks to himself, he's not getting any younger, besides, he keeps you in a part of his heart that he wouldn't ever let anyone in to.

it's a scifi novel, you tell him, all about immigration, and the concept of a world without strict borders. it's a love story, you mention, and yet, it's a war story.

so he pulls out his reading glasses to read the back, and immediately, you're turned on. you can tell he's actually invested in it, the way his eyebrows furrow as his eyes adjust to the new look of the text.

what does take him by surprise is when he realizes you're kneeling between his legs, fumbling for the waistline of his pants, like your god damn life depends on it. his lips twitch into a smile.

"i just filled you up, what, ten minutes ago, and you're already begging for more?" he uses 'begging' because you remind him of a puppy, quietly asking for a treat.

"can't help it," you answer quickly, and before you can ask for anymore, he grips your hair in his free hand.

"what got you so worked up, kid?" you whine at the nickname, trying to pull away now, but his grip on your hair is stronger than your desire to get away is. "tell me." he says it like it's an ultimatum. tell him the truth or you won't be sucking anything.

"your glasses." you confess, and he scoffs, this sadistic sort of half chuckle.

"turned on by an old man's poor sight?" he ponders.

"are you complaining that your age turns me on and makes me want your cock in my mouth?"

he grips your hair tighter, a mean name dancing on his tongue.

"what did your daddy do to you to turn you into such a slut?" and your face burns, maybe with embarrassment, maybe with lust.

"fuck off."

his hand slaps your cheek, in a sort of half slap, half tap, and goes, "language." as if he won't have the filthiest mouth as soon as your tongue reaches his cock. then, he notices the way your thighs squeeze together when he says it with such authority, the way your eyes soften just a bit.

then, his hand grips your chin, pulling it up, as he bends down, your faces just inches apart-- as he leans, you hear his back creak just a bit.

he has that shit eating smirk on his face, as he gently kisses you, such a sharp contrast to his actions, to his words, to the way he fucks you.

you try to chase his lips as he pulls away just a bit, but his grip keeps you right where he wants you. then, he whispers,

"you're all mine, kid."

you can't find the words to deny it.

#danny speaks to the void #logan howlett #old man logan #logan howlett smut #logan howlett fluff #logan howlett x reader #wolverine smut #wolverine blurb #wolverine x reader #wolverine brain go brrrrr

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stardustizuku · 4 months ago

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So, Gushing Over Magical Girls Is The Best Thing To Happen to Magical Girls

Gushing Over Magical Girls get this bad rep. For all the wrong reasons. I’ve seen it be called an insult to Magical Girls, I’ve seen it be called “gooner bait” a term I absolutely despise but that’s a thing for another day. I’ve seen it insulted for everything and anything under the sun.

I first got acquainted with it when I was scrolling through Twitter and I saw someone complain about the PV. However, as an avid Magical Girl Fan, I wasn’t disgusted. I was intrigued.

I decided to read the manga, and oh god.

This is one of the best things I’ve read.

The story follows Utena, a shy girl that loves Magical Girls, tricked to become the evil general that will defeat the Magical Girl team “Tres Magia”.

And it’s a delight.

I binged all the episodes available to me in the manga, and had fun in each and every chapter.

The same, however, couldn’t be said by half the people who watched the anime. And I was extremely baffled. As a queer woman, this was the first time in my life, in which I had seen something so deliberately catered towards me. I saw tell-tale signs of someone who genuinely admires the genre, and is simply using it as an outlet for exploring deeper and more interesting topics that a SFW version of it would not be able to.

Yet, I turn around and I see people calling it the most horrendous stuff, and accusing everyone who likes it of being monsters or men.

Genuinely, I’ve had enough.

Gushing Over Magical Girl is not the Devil. In fact, I think it’s the best thing to come don’t even like Magical Girls AND IT SHOWS.

PART 1: “Magical girls are for little girls!”.

The first criticism you’ll see aimed at “Gushing over Magical girl” is the amount of sexually charged content it has. And it is true. It borders on straight up porn in many instances and it just gets wilder as you go on. By chapter 30, we’re way past PantyShots. Like, I’ve seen some of these girls’ vaginas, and I’m not joking.

Personally, I don’t see anything wrong with it, but there’s people who might disagree.

“Magical Girls are for little girls” some people say “and you’re corrupting it!”

Which genuinely makes me laugh.

This is because this type of argument could only be done by someone with no real concept of Magical Girls aside from maybe Sailor Moon and Sakura Card Captor.

out of the Magical Girl genre in a WHILE (Ignoring Precure, because they just gave us a magical boy and that’s my win of the decade).

People are just, you know, stupid. And reactionary. Enough that they see a boob and lose their minds like a Karen at a Christmas Eve Mall.

My point is, I love this manga. And I’m willing to risk my reputation to defend it. Cause genuinely, half the people who are clutching their pearls over this show - Magical Girl Anime haven’t always been PG, or aimed at girls.

Cutie Honey is a great example. It’s one of the most famous Magical Girl Anime you will find - and it’s a shonen. With the protagonist, Honey, being constantly naked, groped, put in suggestive situations and have outfits that show her cleavage.

And it’s one of the most famous, most popular takes on Magical Girl there is. Yet, I never see any amount of outrage towards it. (Part of me wonders if it’s because the fan service is aimed at men, rather than involving yuri).

There’s also Lyrical Nanoha, one of the most popular serial franchises there is. It spans several seasons and spinoffs, and it’s beloved by many.

And it’s aimed at older men. Yes, it’s a Seinen.

In fact, its origins are far from PG. It’s actually a Spin-off of an erotic game named “Triangle Heart”. It was most definitely not created with little girls in mind, and themes it tackles reflect as much.

There’s Fate/kaleid liner Prisma Illya too, a spinoff of the Fate/Stay Night VN, very obviously aimed at older men, it’s a Seinen. It has a lot of fanservice and scenes where the characters are half naked.

Day Break Illusion is also a Shonen.

And as much as I adora Madoka - I’ve been stating for years now that it isn’t a show meant for little girls. You could argue it’s for everyone, regardless of gender, who’s a little older. But it most definitely wasn’t for little girls.

So, no. This was never an “only girls” club. Trying to paint it as such, is not only wrong but ignorant.

Magical Girl shows can be for anyone. Men, boys, girls, women and I find it infantilizing to consider it “only for little girls”.

No one says “super heroes are ONLY for little boys”

Well, some do. But they’re, you know, bigots. Who don’t want girls playing or adults o have fun.

So no, Gushing Over Magical Girls being a sexually charged anime in the Seinen category isn’t “corrupting the genre”. In fact, I would argue it’s doing exactly what the genre has done in the OVA shadows for a while.

Not to mention, many people have screamed from the rooftop how they want “more mature Magical Girl shows” referring to the success of Madoka. But as soon as an actually mature take on Magical Girls shows up, tackling issues of sexuality and love, you all don’t want it anymore.

(We all know why, though. Americans, and western culture in general, considers mature themes, only that which involves violence. Anything close to discussing issues of sex is no longer “mature” but “Pornographic” and deserving of being shoved into a corner. With all queer themes, gender studies, and any nuance that could be had regarding these issues).

And speaking of sexually charged, have you watched so called “wholesome” magical girls? They’re still very much sexy. Not in the “on the nose” ecchi way Seinen and Shonen are - but they still are.

You’ll find transformations were the girls are naked, zoom in to their breasts, you’ll have panty shots every now and then. Even themes of growing up, having crushes, and innuendos about sex. Inappropriate relationships, taboo romance, and the likes.

Sakura had Rita and a professor’s relationship (mutual in the manga), Sailor Moon had Chibiusa and Elliot’s romance, Sugar Sugar Rune even having an element for ‘lust’ and other different types of love, and let’s not forget Mermaid Melody which has several instances of the girls naked, in compromising positions with other men. And I’m pretty sure Tokyo Mew Mew likely opened a whole bunch of doors for girls to be into CNC.

This is, by the way, normal.

Completely so.

These stories often talk about the girlhood experience. And girls and teenage girls are interested in all of these things. They’re interested in sex, romance, their bodies growing up, their own sexuality and the likes. It’s no wonder same-sex relationships and romance get included, they’re part of what experiencing the world through the eyes of a young girl is like.

And subsequently, it stands to reason that as people who engaged with MG grow up - they find comfort in exploring their sexuality through Magical Girl themselves. There’s a reason why there’s a growing section of “Magical Girl” in your local hentai site.

“Men get off on corrupting this wholesome girl targeted genre” is actually TERF rhetoric sneaking through the mainstream. It ignores AFAB ppl and gender nonconforming people, who grew up with Magical Girls, simply using a medium that originally started their journey of sexual identity, to explore more “grown up” aspects of that same identity.

In particular, I’m a Cis AroAce Woman. I wrote a lot of Magical Girl NSFW when I first started writing NSFW Twitter threads. They’re bad and they’re cringey. But it was something I needed.

Magical Girls were a huge part of my childhood and early teens. When I was mentally in the space to want to engage with NSFW content: it was obvious I would turn to what first sparked excitement.

So this idea that “men are corrupting Magical Girls with their sick fantasies” is nothing more than TERF-lite propaganda. People, including women and men, have been doing this for ages; for a variety of reasons. And doing so, doesn’t rob children of their spaces - but the gentrification of the internet is a story of another day.

The other argument I have heard is that GOMG is a mockery of the genre. Which is even more laughable in my opinion.

PART 2: Parodies and why I hate Earth Defender’s Club.

Gushing Over Magical Girls loves Magical Girls. It’s a parody, in a way, but it knows very well what it parodies. It’s not surface level in the slightest. And it absolutely is not mean spirited about it.

A lot of the time, shows that reference and parody the Magical Girl genre, do so in ways that feel like they view it as a lesser genre. They take generic images of cute girls in frilly outfits, swap the colors around, and have them chant over-the-top spells. You’re meant to laugh, not only at how silly they look, but people who would love it. Especially if they’re grown ups.

I do not like “Cute High Earth Defense Club LOVE!” For this exact reason - even tho many people praise it to all heavens.

Because

1) It feels surface level in its commentary and depiction of Magical Girls and

2) More mocking towards the genre than paying homage or doing anything with it.

The continuous use of the word “Love” is a very obvious jab at Magical Girls using these words, which feels mean spirited just for the sake of it. Their outfits are almost exactly the same, save for the colors. And they all use the same sticks as weapon, with no thematic link for the shapes of the scepters. The mascot too (a wombat for god knows what reason), I think it’s meant to be a joke of some sort for how ridiculous some of the mascots for the girls get, which rubs me the wrong way.

In general, it feels shallow and mean spirited. But no one calls this an insult to Magical Girls. Because people who like it don't actually care about Magical Girls. They see cute boys doing silly things and love it. Which is kinda sad.

Now, Gushing Over Magical girls has sort of that same problem on the Tres Magias…But they’re not the protagonists. And even then, in later chapters, they get power ups that are different in design, and thematically linked.

The protagonist, and the ones we follow, are Utena and the girls. And they all have very distinct outfits, all with motifs that are tangentially thematically linked, and speak of each character’s personalities in interesting ways.

Utena in particular has THIS outfit. Which a lot of people don’t like, but I actually do.

It’s very obvious it’s taking inspo from other iconic Bad Girls in the genre. Namely, Utau, Kraehe and Devil Homura. All “Enemy characters” that have unhealthy obsessions with other characters. In particular, I think the wings and the feathers resemble Homura - THE character known to have a massive obsession with a Magical Girl (Madoka), to the point of insanity.

There’s also Magia Azure. Who’s a clear reference to the Mean Tsundere girl that is iconic to the genre. She’s also a Miko. Which is a callback to Sailor Mars, arguably THE girl who popularized this archetype.

I also love what they do with the mascots. Unlike Earth Defenders, where the mascot is you know, a mockery of the archetype of a mascot - useless, only there to give power ups, and obsessed with food - the mascots of GOMG is taking a book from Madoka.

It considers the mascots both all-too-powerful and yet limited in their reach. Which is exactly what the mascots have always been in Magical Girls. Beings so powerful they can give mythical powers to girls, yet helpless to do anything on their own. So, they use magical girls as a vehicle to achieve their goals. Most Magical girls try to paint this as a good thing, but newer genres shine light on how dangerous that can be too.

Madoka tackles it with Kyubey as the main initial mascot, only later to turn out to be the villain of the series.

And in a Post-Madoka world, trusting the mascots is just the slightest bit more difficult. That’s why, from the get go, GOMG portrays their mascots as morally corrupt. He’s not a good character, he’s malicious and doing more harm than good. But for the majority of the series, he’s painted more as a useless harmless evil than anything genuinely terrifying or worthy of concern. The attention is focused on other things.

But I love the way that it’s heavily implied that they’re not good. It’s a very interesting take on the mascot and it helps with the themes of the series. Which yes, by the way. Gushing Over Magical Girls has themes.

Which lead me to-

Part 3: Yeah, uhm, Gushing Over Magical Girl has themes.

There’s this idea that Sex is an inherently violent act. In which a man humiliates and sodomizes a woman, and therefore the woman is exploited in some way. And 10x worse is any act that involves BDSM. It’s violence; born out of hatred.

This is TERF rhetoric. I’m not joking. This line of thought leads directly to TERF ideas.

Many on the internet have pointed out as much, and BDSM members have gone to be very vocal about it. In particular, people on the role of the submissive (or the bottoms) are loudly trying to explain the contrary. How they like the act of sex, like the idea of being vulnerable, or being humiliated. There’s also plenty of LGBT+ stories that talk about it, both in western and eastern spaces. Just jump into the section of dom/sub verse at your local manga browsing website, and you’ll find something.

That said, the same is not as common for people who like to “dominate”.

I can only think of two pieces of media that argue that, whoever is the dominant or the sadist, is also a human being. That whatever they’re doing is done, not out of hatred for the submissive or an act of violence, but love.

One, is the husky and the white cat. In which Mo Ran, among other things, has to come to terms that his love isn’t “pure”. That he cannot love someone without the want to have sex, and to completely dominate that someone.

The second one is Gushing Over Magical Girls.

It’s very clear to me that Utena’s sadism isn’t a violent act. It’s an act born out of love. She genuinely loves the Magical Girls, and most girls for that matter, and whenever she is inflicting pain and fighting with them - what she wants is to ultimately help them in some way.

She wants them to “be the cutest version they can be” and wants them to shine brighter than ever.

There’s this one scene I love, around chapter 20, in which Baiser (Utena) is fighting Magia Azura. And due to Baiser going a bit too far, Azura ends up being Mind-broken. She crawls towards her, calls her “mistress” and begs to become her servant.

In any normal Hentai you’ll find, this is a good thing. This would be the ideal outcome. A character being turned into nothing but a sex slave for the enjoyment of the dominant.

Which is why I found it breathtaking when that didn’t happen.

Baiser is horrified by this. She does not want to break the girls, she wants them to be powerful. She wants them to win. With her, the evil one, being nothing more than a vehicle for them to be even stronger than before.

This is the first time I’ve ever seen dominant or sadist characters being presented both sexually, and in such a positive light. Much less a queer woman in the same position.

It doesn’t treat BDSM sex as a disgusting taboo act, but something born out of genuine love - and a want to see the other person be or feel better.

This is reinforced around chapter 25 where Leberblume and Loco Mùsica are fighting Baiser. For context, Loco Musica wanted to be an Idol, but had terrible singing. She uses her evil power to basically force everyone to listen to her sing (which is so reminiscent of Mermaid Melody btw). When they fight, Baiser wins, and is then set to use her new found power to “punish” Loco Musica.

Originally, Loco Musica points out how Baiser’s sadistic tendencies are “the same” as Lord Enorme, who we’ve seen uses sadism as a genuine form of punishment. Something to avoid. You behave well, because you don’t want to get hurt or humiliated by her.

However, when Baiser uses her own unique type of sadism on Loco Musica, something happens. Instead of causing her physical pain by beating her or using violence, she forces her to get naked and perform her idol song like that. This causes her to get extremely embarrassed. And in the process, she actually starts to sing really well.

This is important for two reasons

1) Baiser is actually taking into account who Musica is. It’s later revealed that Musica wanted a more frilly idol-like outfit but Lord Enorme shut it down, for the sake of a more ‘unified’ aesthetic. Baiser is not just throwing around the same treatment and punishment for all girls - what one might like, the other might hate.

2) At the end of the day, while she did the punishment, it was both embarrassing, but ultimately something that helped Musica and made her feel better.

And that’s really the key here, and why I love the series.

Sadism, sex and kinks in general are not tools of degeneracy. They’re treated as part of our experience.

Also, it’s just fun?

Part 4: Gushing Over Magical Girls is just extremely fun when you don’t have a dumb bitch yapping abt how unholy it is to see tiddies on a screen

Yeah, GOMG just has one of the most creative depictions of the most insane of kinks you’ll see - I could spent hour gushing over Nero Alice.

Seeing all these different kinks being depicted as powers and abilities that these characters have - and seeing how they interact with other people is just interesting.

The sex scenes are both hilarious and kinda sexy. Specially if you do like to see women all hot and bothered. Personally I’m not into girls (or anyone for that matter) but I have to admit the scenes were pretty hot. And there is no shame in admitting as much. No matter what the puritanical Christian on Twitter crying abt “god honoring lesbian sex” Will tell you.

I cannot begin to explain just how hype and relatable it was to see Magia Baiser defeat Lord Enorme with the power of straight up delusion, we STAN.

So, yeah.

It’s been a while since I last saw a Magical Girl Show so unashamed of being a Magical Girl Show. Unashamed of being weird, of praising the genre and just enjoying it.

My essay is titled, in part, as a joking reference to my much more popular series “MLB is the worst thing to happen to the magical girl series”. Which I still think is true.

And while, yeah, maybe GOMG isn’t the best thing to come out of the genre…I still think it’s good that it came out.

A lot of people say they want a more “mature” take on Magical Girls but - this proved to me that just isn’t the case.

Gushing over magical girls proves that the Magical Girl Genre Can Be so much more than what people think. More than glitter and sparkles, more than vapid action scenes, or what little girls want.

Much like any other genre, it can be raunchy, it can be messy, it can explore things outside of the status quo. But it can still deeply respect the source material, and the origins of it.

GOMG proves Magical Girls can be fun. Just. Straight up fun. Regardless of your age. They can serve and connect you to parts of yourself you didn’t realize you could connect to.

I hope it proves to more people that the genre can be so much more than “just for little girls” that parodies can be more than pointing and laughing, and that it can have themes beyond just, “friendship”.

Magical Girls can be so much more. You just, have to have an open mind about it.

#gushing over magical girls #2k magical girl essay #cute high earth defense club love #sailor moon #puella magi madoka magica #shugo chara #I will defend this show with my life it’s genuinely so much fun #yes I am willing to tank my reputation for it it’s so fucking funny 😭😭

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mint-8 · 10 months ago

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Platonic Yandere Soldier × GN! Reader

- Yandere Soldier who has dedicated their entire lives to the military, being "encouraged" by their parents and grandparents in order to climb up the ranks and obtain prestige for their family name. They are very efficient when it comes to fighting, survival skills, and leadership of both large and small groups.

- Yandere Soldier who, as part of their training, was drafted over to your little town near the border so they could get a proper firsthand experience on how to protect small patches of land from possible invaders.

- Yandere Soldier whose stoic and pissed off looking face with multiple scars doesn't get them much favor from the townsfolk, with the children running away, the ladies too scared to get close and most of the men staying far away when they go the pub.

- Everyone's afraid of them, except you. Kind, sweet you who felt a lot of empathy for the soldier who is putting their lifes at risk so they can protect your small home. Kind you who, every time you pass by them when walking in the main plaza, greet them with a wave and a sweet smile, asking them how their patrol had been going or if they wanted to go the pub later to get some drinks. Adorable you who always invite them to your home so you can chat for a bit, but if they can't, then you can give them some of the sweets you've been making! As a thank you for their effort protecting your village.

- Yandere Soldier who isn't sure how to react to the kindness from such a cute civilian who clearly wants to be their friend. They are incredibly socially awkward as they never really needed to talk much to others. Giving orders or receiving orders were much up their alley. But now they have this sweet little thing asking them for their OPINION? Sweets or tea preferences? They can't believe it.

- Yandere Soldier who, after some tries to strike a conversation, actually answers! They might sound about bit blunt and curt, but they are giving their very best to not stutter or look like a fool! Why, yes, they would love to go eat some of the sweets you've made! They would also enjoy reading some of the new books from the series you enjoy!

- Yandere Soldier who becomes very close to you and genuinely considers you to be their most important person and friend, and who promises to write to you everyday when they inevitable finish their training in your town and need to go back to finish their service.

- Yandere Soldier who keeps their promise and does write you every time they can, giving you updates about recent events in the military and even sending gifts that they thought you might like.

- Yandere Soldier who, when they finish their training, is luckily send back to your village to be a permanent protector for the area! It definitely had nothing to do with the few connections they had and the good will he acquired during their service, and who definitely didn't insist on taking that specific area to protect. No, that's crazy!

- Yandere Soldier who has become more desirable in the eyes of the townsfolk. With your encouragement they have started to smile more and be more gentle with others! Now the villagers are trying to hang out with them! The men? Inviting them to go for some drinks! The ladies? Flirting and complimenting them on their achievements! The children? Asking them to tell stories about their time while training and carrying them on their shoulders!

- Yandere Soldier who sees all this new socialization as an obstacle between their best friend and themselves, but you seem to be happy so they are willing to put up with it if it means seeing you smile.

- Yandere Soldier who might get married one day. Maybe have kids or might live their entire lives single. But what won’t change, it’s their love for the only person who ever cared enough to talk to them, you. Their best friend, their only friend. They are more than willing to go to war against the entire planet, if it means protecting your happiness.

#yandere platonic #platonic yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere soldier #yandere military #yandere x gn reader #gn!reader #gn reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere headcanons #general reader #reader insert #x reader #yandere writing #my writing

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fraugwinska · 5 months ago

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Week 2 everyone! Following Hazel's amazing Body Worship featuring our beloved king of hell, we'll continue this week in the same sentiment - Can there be really enough Lucifer x Reader stories?

Dont miss out on the wonderful works of our kinky coven: @hazelfoureyes @minkdelovely @sugoi-writes @macabr3-barbi3 @synamartia

Check out our Masterlist for Kinktober (A big thank you to the marvellous Syn - who also made out Banners!)

Warnings: Summoning Ritual, Manipulation and emotional Blackmail, Blood, Implied pressure for sexual acts. But with a happy end! And as usual: Minors Stay away - 🔞

"Fuck - It worked... It actually worked!"

You heard your boyfriend's voice, filled with heated excitement, but your eyes were glued to the glowing pentagram before you. That shouldn't be happening - this was supposed to be a silly game, a little make-pretend. You had felt bad, after denying him, again, what he had asked you so many times before. "Come on baby," he had begged, and while you liked him well enough, you hadn't been together for long and something in you told you to wait for you two to cross the border of having sex - It would be your first time, and fuck if people would call you prude, but giving it away meant something to you. It had to feel right. Be with the right person. And you and him weren’t there yet. So you had, hesitantly, agreed to his roleplay idea. You thought it was a bit excessive - the props he gathered, the seriousness in which he had chanted some silly things in latin - all while tying your hands and feet together in what you had thought would be just a dumb game of Fake summoning a demon to spice things up.

But this glowing portal was real, as was the euphoria so tangible in his voice. This hadn't been a game - he had planned this.

Through the bright, golden glow stepped a man - at least you thought it was a man. Lean and regal, dressed in a white, luxurious coat that strangely resembeled a circus director he shifted out of the light into your boyfriend's living room. His blonde hair shimmered in the fading glow and for once, you could see his face in full - And it was terrifyingly beautiful. Golden locks framed his burning red irises, two blush circles sat on the edges of his mouth that was pulled into a face of disdain.

Your boyfriend didn't even acknowledge your trembling whimpers, he just stepped forward, dropping the dagger he had used to prick your finger and let your blood drip on a strange book. "Lord Lucifer... It's an honor to..."

"Cut the Lord-crap, mortal. What the hell is this?" the blonde interrupted him, eyes widening at the sight of your bound and shivering body. He glanced from the dagger to the book to the young man before him and folded his arms. Your heart almost jumped out of your chest. That idiot actually summoned the literal devil? The fallen angel, the king of hell? What was he thinking?

"I've summoned you, Lor... Lucifer, to offer you a virgin in exchange for my own immortality!" His words made you whip your head around. Surely, you must've heard wrong. "Wh-what are you doing?" you asked in a rush of bubbling panic, fighting against the rope that held your arms together. Cold eyes met your pleading ones, and the hope that this would all turn out to be a joke faded completely.

"Sorry, Babe, but this is an opportunity I won't miss out on. You wanted to stay a virgin - and this way, I get something out of it."

"Okay, wait - just so that I get this correctly..." Lucifer stepped in, his eyes darting in disbelief between you and the caster of this wretched summoning ritual, his brows deeply furrowed. "You're offering your girlfriend to me? Are you serious?" His question was met with a hesitant nod, the sight making your stomach drop. The way he tricked you, the way he talked about you, the way he was casually offering you to a literal demon, as if he were selling some worthless thing when he was supposed to love and respect you - Everything inside you felt heavy with hurt and regret. Sure, you couldn't have said it was love you had felt for him - but you thought he'd at least care about you the way you had cared about him. Apparently, you were horribly wrong. Tears dripped silently down your cheeks and you wished for someone, anyone to help.

"I swear she is untouched, my lord, and even if she is plain and not quite the looker, she.."

"You humans are..." Lucifer's voice was filled with cold disgust as he searched for words. Finding none that would suffice, he just snapped his fingers, and you felt as if the air was sucked out of the room. Everything stood still, the fire of the candles in the room didn't move, the hands of the clock, even your boyfriend was frozen in place mid-gesture. Only his pupils shifted to the blonde in a panic, meeting the devil's angry stare. Lucifer shook his head, then he tore his eyes away from him and looked at you, instantly softening and with a pinch of pity as he slowly walked over to you. You flinched when he stretched out his hand, but he stopped and gave you a gentle smile.

"It's okay, doll, I'm not gonna do anything. Just getting rid of those ropes, okay?"

You nod, the wet streaks on your face cold and itchy. Small, delicate hands reach around your wrists, and within a blink the ties disappear. You quickly wipe your face and touch the bruised skin, cautiously rubbing the scratches as Lucifer unties your feet. "There, that's better, right?"

"What... what is happening?" you stutter, not daring to look directly at him, still overcome with the bizarreness of the situation. "Why has everything stopped.. moving?"

Lucifer huffs, offering you his hand and, after you hesitantly took it, pulled you up to stand. "I froze time. That asshole who dares to call himself your boyfriend pissed me off and that's one sure way to keep his rotten mouth shut." He cups your cheek, his hand is warm and soft and so gentle you almost lean in, and lets his thumb wipe away the remaining wet trails of salt, but a fresh flow of tears blur your vision. You struggle for words, but nothing but weak sobbing makes it out of your constricted throat. "I... I can't believe he..."

"I know, angel. I wish I could say he's an exception... but as you might suspect, I've known humanity and the endless depth of their deprivation for a while..." He sighs, stepping away from you. "What I can promise you is that I'm not going to hurt you. That dumb motherfucker might've summoned me correctly - but he sure as hell didn't read the fine print too closely." Lucifer grinned, for the first time this night he actually looked like the devil he was - and you were enraptured at the sight. "The one who offers the blood is the one who bargains a deal with me. And since he was too chicken to spill his own, that means it's you, doll." He laughs, crossing his arms, tilting his head to watch your boyfriend's eyes dart frantically through the room.

"So, it's up to you. Is there anything you want?"

You swallow, the heat of Lucifer's palm still lingering on your cheek and the betrayal burning deep in your guts.

"I..." you say, as if in trance, guided by the hurt and anger and that strange pull towards the demon, "I want to humiliate him. I want to make him regret what he wanted to do..." Lucifers gaze turned into something sinister and dangerous, and you quickly added "Without killing him. I don't want to... be like him."

The devil looks surprised, almost impressed, before he steps towards you once more, taking your hand and kissing it, an impish smile on his divine lips that made his features even more beautiful. "Mh, I do have an idea how we can arrange that. Just remember: You hold the reins to stop whenever you want to stop."

Before you could ask what he means, his mouth travels up your arm and to the crook of your neck, leaving kisses along its trail. Your whole skin breaks out in shivers, a gasp escapes you as you feel your cheeks flush and a heat pool in between your legs. His hands find their way onto your hips, resting instead of pulling, a gesture of such thoughtfulness and respect you could’ve wept and you feel yourself lean into him as he licks along your jawline. It feels daring, it feels strange and yet so alluring you can't help but sink deeper into that warm embrace. Whatever had held you back to give yourself to your now ex-boyfriend - it was nonexistent in the arms of this demon, and wasn't that a travesty? But then again... Lucifer was the personification of temptation afterall.

When he finally kisses you, it's like fireworks exploding in your head. The way his lips gently close around yours, the warmth and sweetness of his mouth, his skillful tongue parting them so effortlessly to slither around your own in playful circles, letting you taste him as he tasted you - there was nothing you could have imagined that would've compared to the intensity that a simple kiss from him conveyed. It wasn’t forced, like it always felt with your boyfriend, but an invitation, with no reproach if you’d decline it.

"Lucifer.. please..." you breathe as you reluctantly break the kiss, overheated and desperate for air. Your hands act on their own, with a feverish urgency, down to the buckle of his pants. But Lucifer, his smile wide and sultry, caught them, pulling them up and around his shoulders with an almost scolding shake of his head.

"Oh no, angel, the only one that's gonna be worshiped tonight is you." He lifts you up with ease, drawing a little yelp out of you, and moves swiftly as he clears the living room table to spread you out on it, kneeling in between your legs. You're quivering with a hot, bubbling anticipation and even through your lust-dazed mind you still catch Lucifer's wicked glance and the mocking smirk in the direction of your ex-boyfriend.

Slowly, he pushed your white dress up exposing pale, supple skin. The devil's hands explored your thighs, every brush and caress making you writhe as the ache to be touched becomes stronger with every uncovered inch of flesh, and by the time he starts to slowly, achingly work his fingers around your hips, you're already squirming for him, begging him for any kind of friction.

"I'm gonna carve prayers onto your body, my angel," he breathes against the sensitive inside of your thigh, littering it with tiny pecks before he bites down, sharply enough to leave a red mark - it pulls a moan out of you, then an aroused sigh as Lucifer soothingly licks over the reddened skin and slowly kisses his way towards your center. The devil delights at your little noises of want, how you whimper as he pushes your underwear aside instead of tearing it off to the side - though it wouldn't hold for long anyway. "Your body is my temple and your moans the hymns I sing to."

His words send a new kind of electric buzz straight to your cunt, you wanted to say something in return - heaven or hell knows what - but it was a useless endeavor anyway. The words were already forgotten when his tongue dipped into your waiting heat - you buck into him and it earns you a muffled hum of appreciation. Lucifer's movements were slow, languid and at the same time utterly determined. A steady rhythm as his hands found their way back to your hips, pinning you down so that all you could do was take the sweet torture and drown in the pleasure he delivered to you on a golden plate. And so you did. Every swirl of that wicked, sinful tongue drew louder noises from you, every press of his lips to your soaked pussy had your head spinning into overwhelmed euphoria.

Through the haze of your foggy eyes you catch a glimpse of the frozen man you had called 'baby' once. Shocked, unbelieving eyes fixated on you writhing under Lucifer's incomparable ministrations, being expertly eaten out by temptation itself in the form of the most beautiful being imaginable - and a moan that almost sounded like a laugh tore itself from your throat. The sudden wave of pride and morbid joy, combined with a flick of the damned forked tongue over your clit and his name spilling from your lips along with your drool has you cumming in what you could only describe as ethereal bliss - your hand finds Lucifer's hair, digging your fingers into the golden locks and holding him tightly pressed to your seeping core as the waves of your orgasm rock your hips like a boat lost on the ocean - and Lucifer, your lighthouse illuminating your way home, laps up every drop of your essence your body offers him.

By the time you were done riding out your orgasm, Lucifer's skilled tongue had cleaned every bit of the mess you had made. He pressed a soft kiss on your puffed lips, before slowly pulling away onto his knees to look at you, wiping his mouth and watching you with hooded, smoldering eyes.

"Look at you, angel. Only a mortal fool would call something so ethereal as you 'plain'."

Lucifer stands up and leans over to brush the back of his hand softly over your cheek until his fingers rest under your chin, lifting your head ever so slightly to kiss you once more before he turns to your ex. His posture changes, his shoulders straighten and his features become sharp and almost threatening. You try to sit up, body still weak post-orgasm, as you watch him sprout two twisted, fiery horns from his head and three sets of blinding white and red wings from his back. The room is slowly filled with a light like the inside of a fire - you faintly hear a muffled, horrified scream from the immobilized figure behind you, but you couldn't care less. Your sole focus is him - the fallen angel and ruler of hell.

"Remember that you deserve nothing less than what you received tonight, doll."

"Lucifer..." is all you get to say before he spreads his wings and the world turns white.

You shot up, the blanket over your legs falling from the sofa you push yourself up on. The room was quiet and dim, only the light from a few candles making rough shadows dance on the walls. You panted, as if waking up from an intense dream, strands of your hair glued to your neck and cheeks from the sweat. Your head whipped around calling his name, but your boyfriend is nowhere to be found. For a moment, you questioned your sanity when you felt something tickling your thigh. You shifted and reached under you, and your mouth pulled into a wistful smile as you brought the soft, white feather you found to your lips for a longing, bittersweet kiss.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel smut #kinktober 2024 #covenworks2024 #smut coven #lucifer x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel

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novemberheart · 8 months ago

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Chapter 1 -> Chapter 2

{overview} You need someplace to stay- and fast. Luckily your aunt Kate knows the perfect place for you. Only problem is you’ll have four other roommates, who are all dating each other?

{warnings} polyamory/poly141 x fem reader, chapter story, inaccuracies all around, cursing, future smut and suggestive language, reader is inexperienced when it comes to relationships but age is not specified, appearance of reader not specified, some slow burns, some quick burns, angst, drama

“John, when you have a moment I’d like to speak to you,” Laswell requested, sticking her head into the Captain's office. A few playful gasps and ‘what’d you do now’ spread through his office. With a groan he pulled his heavy body to its feet, the weight of the world on his shoulders. His gaze quickly caught Simon’s who gave him a knowing stare. John followed Laswell to her office- which was conveniently situated across from his. “I have a favor.” She continued, plopping a pile of folders onto her already crowded desk.

Cue another grown.

“We just got back, Kate. The boys have hardly slept. Kyle has lost about ten pounds. Simon is still getting over a knife to the shoulder”-

“Calm down mother hen.” Laswell interrupted. John tsked, but realized his own antics were bordering on the tease. “You don’t have to do anything.” She paused for a moment. “Well, you almost have to do nothing.”

The Captain raised his eyebrow.

“I have a niece who needs a place to stay. You still have that empty bedroom right?”

His first instinct is to lie. The last thing he and the boys needed was an interloper- a pest in their home. They spend so much time hiding that the thought of doing it in their home, a place that is decorated so thoroughly with each of them sounds almost torturous.

“Please don’t lie, John,” Kate spoke up. “She a good girl. She’s trying to move up in her job but it’s taking some time. The only places she can afford are in rough neighborhoods and quite frankly I’m worried for her. So is her mother because she calls me about twice a day to check on her.” An airy laugh left Kate, which she quickly shook off. “I go back to the States in two weeks and I would really like to have her set up and safe before I leave. It’s only temporary- two months at the most till she can get a down payment on an apartment.”

“I don’t know how the boy’ll feel about it.” Price finally spoke. Kate nodded her head in understanding.

“She’s a modern woman if that’s what you’re worried about,” Kate said slowly.

“How about we meet her first? Give us a few days to adjust being back home, then maybe we can go out for lunch or something. If the boys’ll agree on it.” John offered. Kate sighed, hoping this meeting would’ve resulted in a bit more of a clear outcome. Nevertheless, she nodded her head, as quiet agreement escaped her lips.

“Deal.”

“Anything important?” Simon hummed as the Captain stepped back through the door.

“Yes actually and it involves all of us.” At this, the boys quickly tossed the things they were working on, onto the coffee table. John cleared his throat, taking a seat next to Simon. It was a small noise- one that John wasn’t even aware he had made, yet it caused each of their backs to straighten at the underlying authority present in the small act. “Kate was hoping her niece could stay with us for a while, two months at the most, while she looks for a place to live.” John looked around the room, trying to get a grasp as to what they were thinking. ‘Unreadable’ was the first thing that came to mind. Suddenly Johnnys' lips curled up into a smirk.

“You have a picture?” The Scotsman questioned.

“No, mate.” Kyle scolded, before the rest could roll their eyes. “Not everyone was put on this earth to be eye candy for ya.’”

“You were.” Johnny shot back without missing a beat. Kyle nearly smiled but pulled his lips into a tight line, his knee nudging Johnny.

“Why does she need to leave?” Kyle asked. Always the voice of reason.

“Safety reasons. Lives in a bad area.” John explained. That softened them. “I suggested we meet her first, she’ll probably put her best foot forward- but we should be able to tell if she’d be a good fit or not.”

“I think we should just give ‘er the keys.” Johnny piqued up again.

“Oh really.” Simon muttered from across the coffee table.

“Yeah. I mean we risk our lives for strangers everyday out there. At least with this, we could help someone out without having to do much.”

“You just want a date Mactavish.” Kyle sighed from next to him, sliding down in his seat. The corner of John’s eyes lifted in a slight smile before he stood up and returned to his desk.

“I’ll have Laswell send her our address, so we can meet her.”

“So it is a date.” Johnny chirped.

If it wasn’t for the checkpoint to get in you wouldn’t have known it was military housing. Kate drove you both in. Her fingers drummed against the steering wheel feeding off of your own nerves. Never ending rows of brick houses lined both sides of the street. There were lots of trees- which you were happy about. The houses varied in size from small townhouses to big houses with fenced-in backyards. One street even led down to a nice apartment building.

“I’ve driven past here before and never knew all these houses were back here.” You broke the silence.

“The trees hide them well- and the fog.” She smiled, not taking her eyes off the street. Each house was decorated with various flags out front- most of them being a Union Jack. She finally turned down a street, one that seemed narrower than the others. There were no houses across the street, just a large green field. A family and their dog playing in the neatly trimmed grass. The trees surrounding the area made the air fresh and your lungs felt lighter with every deep breath. Even though it wasn’t raining your nose could imagine the smell of wet earth. You shut the car door.

“There’s a nice walking path down that way.” Kate nodded her head towards the tree line. You followed her up onto the sidewalk, wondering which house she was going to head towards. It was the third one from the end. It looked like all the others but something set it apart. The outside of the house was spotless, like each brick had been hand scrubbed. The bushes and trees were neatly trimmed and there were even some potted plants you could see from on the porch.

You inspected each car in the driveway. Two trucks, one a shiny black, so large you could see it no matter where you stood. The second truck looked more like a fixer upper. It was older, painted a nice brown and beige- well loved. Behind the black truck was a just as sleek, black, shiny muscle car, that you’re sure the neighbors love hearing in the early mornings. Next to it was a banged-up, red, 4-runner geared up like it was ready to take off into the mountains at the drop of a hat.

You wondered how reflective each car was of each man.

Kate rang the doorbell. “Don’t worry.” She whispered to you over her shoulder. You were in fact worried. Very worried. It felt like all of your job interviews and presentations rolled into one. Your heartbeat only had the chance to beat 15 times before the door opened. Your insides shriveled as one of your worst fears came to light.

He was handsome- very handsome. Boarding on pretty.

“Kyle.” Laswell greeted, at which his lips perked up into a smile.

“Calling you Kate feels too informal.” He admitted. He opened the door further standing to the side to allow you both the enter. You had yet to move from your hiding spot behind Kate.

“Then don’t.” She chuckled. His head dodged around Kate to finally get a glimpse of you. His smile faltered slightly, but he quickly whipped it back on.

Your brain kicked into gear and you extended your hand with a soft introduction.

“Nice to meet you, love.” He smiled warmly taking your hand into his. He was warm and his hand held no paranoid shakes like yours.

You followed Kate into the entryway. It was plain, with an expensive-looking wooden dresser with a bowl filled with various keys and random bolts. ‘Junk bowl’ you thought mindlessly. Boots and shoes were lined neatly against the wall, making sure to avoid the rug leading into the living area. Kyle closed the door behind you.

Your eyes racked up and down his form. You knew he would be fit for his line of work, but you didn’t picture someone so carefully carved out of marble.

“Do I need to take off my shoes?” You questioned.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. We usually just keep our work boots here.” He explained. He extended his arm forward, silently guiding you further into the house. Just through the entryway was another hallway and the stairs, but Kate led you to the left into the living area.

The house was beautiful. It was a mismatch of styles but they all somehow charmingly complimented each other. The furniture was rustic. Brown leather couches, chairs, and everything from the TV stand to the coffee table was constructed from wood. The decor was more modern- but not in a cold grey and white way. There were lots of dark greens and blues. Plants were scattered around the home, making the air inside just as fresh as outside. Various pictures hung up on the wall all sketched from charcoal. You weren’t close enough to see what they were about.

“It’s beautiful.” You whispered over your shoulder. It was a home. It’s been a long time since you’ve got to experience one.

“Thanks. Cap’ is picky about where he sits so he picks out all the sitting furniture. Simon woodworks in his free time so he built almost everything you see here. ‘Tavish is the artist.” He explained, his tender gaze following yours as he took in his own home. He could feel his chest swell.

“You must be the green thumb?” You hummed. The quirk on his lips remained as he nodded his head.

“And the one who makes everything look nice.” He muttered, sending a small wink your way. “Just through the arch is the kitchen.” Kyle continued, taking the lead away from Kate. When you spoke to Kate it sounded as though this was just a meeting. Yet the way Kyle spoke and smiled at you made you feel as though you had already been voted in.

The kitchen was nice. Dark oak cabinets pushed up against the wall with light granite countertops. There was a small island with just enough room for two stools and a sink. It was clean- like the rest of the house. Everything had a place, even the fruit bowl on the counter and the tea kettle on the stovetop. Kyle turned to the right.

“And just across the hall we have the dinning room.” He lit up a bit as he crossed the hall into the room. Two men were sitting at the table. Both big and commanding in size.

“Hi.” You spoke first- a trained reaction.

“Hey, Bonnie!” You nearly jumped again at the enthusiasm. He was sitting closest to you and he reached for your hand before you could hold it out for a greeting. “John Mactavish- but you can call me Johnny.” You wondered if every man in this house had overwhelming smiles.

“Nice to meet you.” You returned his greeting with a repeat of your name. He plopped back down in his seat. The man next to him stood up. Something about him made you want to know him. He seems like the sort of person you go to when you need a shoulder to lean on . His movements were precise and swift, yet the crinkles around his eyes made your shoulders relax.

“John Price. Very nice to meet you.” It was polite and warm just like him. Your hand itched to hold his and you were disappointed when he didn’t extend it. So you extended yours. He quickly took it, his hands as calloused and as warm as you thought they’d be.

“Nice to meet you too.” You added. You quickly let go- hoping you weren’t too sweaty.

“Sit please.” He requested, gesturing to the seats across from him.

“Hello everyone.” Kate gruffed from behind you. The two men’s eyes widened quickly sputtering out an apology for ignoring her. With a playful huff, she rolled her eyes taking a seat next to you.

“We have some pastries if you want, there’s also drinks in the fridge,” John said, nodding his head towards the plate in the center of the table.

“We wouldn’t mind throwing on the kettle either,” Kyle added, sitting at the head of the table.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Kate quickly took them up on the offer grabbing something with blueberries. You grabbed a scone with the most icing. “Good.” Kate hummed between bites.

“Corner shop just outside base.” Johnny chirped. You wondered for a moment if they had bought these just for you. Well maybe not for you to eat- but maybe so you’d perceive them as caring? Or put together? You shook the thought out of your head, taking a bite of the scone. It was softer than it looked and had hint of orange. Your eyes lifted up from the scone. Each man was staring at you- not expectantly, but like one would look at zebras at the zoo. With slight wonder, but mostly curiosity. They were accessing you and you couldn’t blame them. You were asking a lot from them.

“I would like to tell you why I need to leave my apartment.” You offered, setting the scone down on a napkin. They shifted in their seats- sitting at attention. “I know this is a big ask and I would just like to say I would absolutely be happy to pay some utility or some other expense. I don’t want you to think I’m mooching off of you.”

“Don’t need to worry about that.” John spoke, quickly putting an end to any concern you have. You took a deep breath, your eyes drifting over to Johnny. His face was serious now, but his smile lines remained. You couldn’t imagine smiling so much that it would be etched into your skin. You breathed out.

“A few nights ago my apartment was broken into, during the night while I was at home.” Kyle winced, and Johnny stiffened. John remained the same. “Luckily I had bear spray and a crowbar.” You chuckled despite the heaviness in the air. “Nothing happened and they ran out fairly fast once I started screaming and swinging the crowbar around- but I just don’t feel safe anymore.”

“Of course.” John affirmed after you. “I’m happy you were able to react. Sometimes in those situations, people freeze.”

It was small but it was the validation you needed to hear.

“Thank you.” You said softly. “This wasn’t the first time it had happened. My place has been broken into two other times, this was just the first time it had happened while I was home. I’ve gone to the police but they never follow through. On top of that when I come home it’s usually dark and I’m almost surprised when I make it home.” Your head turned towards Laswell who nodded at you to go on. You hoped they didn’t think you were a baby. People are going through hard times all over the world. What makes you so special that you should be free from it? These men had no doubt been exposed to horrible acts, things you don’t think you could cope with hearing let alone experiencing. They’re probably thinking how entitled you are. How you should buck up and stop playing victim. You shook yourself out of your thoughts. “I‘ve been saving money for a few months but it still not enough. If I could just have about a month’s paycheck that would put me at my goal. I know it’s a big ask, but it’ll be like I’m not even here, I promise. I’m a rather boring person, unfortunately.”

They chuckled at that.

“Well, Sweetheart. I think you just landed yourself a bedroom.”

Hi friends I hope you liked this! I have 5 more chapters scheduled to post so I won't leave you hanging! Don't be afraid to say hi or come visit me on my page!

The next chapter will be posted in three days! 🤎

See you at the next chapter!

#novemberheart #birdsofafeathercod #poly141 #poly141 x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #soap x reader #captain john price #gaz x reader #captain john price x female reader #price x reader #john price #soap x you #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #johnny soap mactavish #kate laswell #poly141 x fem reader

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