#thread: solitude

[theiravshade]

Shoulder Snuggling™

[esuemmanuel]

I wish more people could see how valuable it is to love with the soul, because that is why we came into the world: to love, to accept, and care for ourselves as we are. The human being, unfortunately, has an evil, and it is taking its toll, because, not accepting himself, he is not able to love himself; he wants to be different… other…, because he is not satisfied with what he was born with. And no, it is not a matter of being different, nor of making ourselves up or changing ourselves according to the irrational idea we carry in our heads; the one that has been born due to the lack of love towards our own nature. It is about looking at ourselves as a whole, with our defects and virtues, our strengths and weaknesses, accepting ourselves in our totality, because this is what gives us value before the world. Being unique makes us irreplaceable.

Ojalá más gente viera lo valioso que es amar con el alma, porque a eso hemos venido al mundo: a amarnos, a aceptarnos tal cual somos, a querernos y a cuidarnos. El ser humano, lamentablemente, tiene un mal, y le está cobrando factura, pues, al no aceptarse, no es capaz de amarse; quiere ser distinto… otro… diferente, porque no está satisfecho con lo que ha nacido. Y no, no se trata de ser otro ni de maquillarnos o cambiarnos de acuerdo a la idea irracional que cargamos en la cabeza; ésa que ha nacido por la falta de amor hacia nuestra propia naturaleza. Se trata de mirarnos completos, con nuestros defectos y virtudes, nuestras fortalezas y debilidades, aceptándonos en nuestra totalidad, porque esto es lo que nos da valor ante el mundo. Ser únicos nos hace irreemplazables.

[paininpoetry]

The red thread of fate

We always pledge under the same stars

A crimson cord guiding us to each other's heart

Through the ache that miles apart leaves

Two souls holding the same heartbeats

We've always knew it could be much more

Than what we had or hoped for before

A tied destiny surrounded by thorns

In twilight and winter's cold

I beg and believe for a woven grace

To find each other again, face to face

We're still lost and so far apart

Hiding these memories once lived with art

Now in solitude we fall apart

By the pain to belong to each other's heart.

- VinceHollow

[onetrueheir]

tag dump!!

[musingmemories]

Actions and Consequences

@5ofhearts-chris

Routine will take you further than willpower. Down to the most finite detail, Wendy had grown up learning that discipline was a strength, and preferred to keep her mind clear and spirit pure because of the weapon she possessed. The Ace of Spades was an heirloom, a blessing or a curse depending on the user, and Wendy could only hope to one day to make her father proud. This time...this time...a mantra every time the card was played, the sword secured in its sheathe. Wendy's skills with a sheathed blade were often times unrivaled, and Love and Peace's spirit wasn't needed. But there were times her alter-ego was called.

This time will be different.

This time she'd be the one in control.

The card weighed heavily against the fabric of her breast pocket, as though carrying the very soul of the sword and the lives it had taken, the blood that had spilled. Usually the burden disappeared the second she stepped into the High Card automobile company, Finn yelling in surprise from learning something new, Vijay there with a soft smile and her cup of tea ready to go. The air was different, quiet, and Wendy hesitantly gathered her hair into that signature ponytail, glasses adjusting. "You seem serious...is there a mission for me?" She asked Leo, just as the door opened.

"Actually, this mission is for both of you." Leo said with a thoughtful hum.

Wendy expected to turn and find Vijay, anxiety swelling in the pit of her stomach and heartbeat skipping when her gaze locked with the person she would be partnered with instead: Chris.

[windfavord]

—— ⟡ @solitude-in-eternity

EVEN THOUGH HE HAD BEEN GIVEN a place to stay, he hadn't actually been there yet. There were too many things to see around the island, and besides that, he hadn't yet decided what his opinion of this world's guardians were-- and if he wanted to accept their "gifts," or if such gifts came with strings attached.

Eventually, he decided he might as well take a look. He had a key, after all-- it might not be bad to have a place to hide out if necessary.

The apartment wasn't bad, he supposed. There were all the standard living spaces, which he didn't anticipate himself using much, and a bedroom, which he might use a little more often if he wanted to get away from the outside world.

After deeping the place acceptable enough, maybe even nice if he was feeling generous, he headed out again.

Only, he didn't get past the doorstep before he froze in place, pupils shrinking to points.

At the house just next door, he spotted a certain familiar figure. A very familiar figure. One that he could never fully forget-- not even after erasing himself from existence.

Raiden Ei. His creator-- his mother.

[universestreasures]

Oh...my goodness...I'm gonna lose my marbles.

THEY LEGIT SAY PRETTY MUCH THE SAME THING. I AM DEAD. I KNEW THEIR PHILOSOPHIES WERE SIMILAR BUT....I DIDNT KNOW THEY USED PRETTY MUCH THE EXACT SAME LANGUAGE (Been refreshing myself on Season 3 of Buddyfight for iconing reasons and 100% forgot this was the language used here in Episode 44) OMG.

I guess it's just a card game rival thing to not be held back by your past, huh? BUT LEGIT, IT HITS SO DIFFERENTLY WHEN TASUKU SAYS IT COMPARED TO WHEN SETO SAYS IT BECAUSE TASUKU'S IS FRAMED AS A GOOD, HEROIC THING, WHILE SETO'S IS FRAMED AS A BAD, HATE-FIILLED THING. LOVE HOW THIS PHILOSOPHY IS PORTRAYED IN TWO DIFFERENT LIGHTS HERE BECAUSE IT IS NOT 100% BLACK OR WHITE. LOVE THAT SM.

Though, their philosophies are different in their approaches, obviously. Seto sees the past as having nothing of value. Tasuku doesn't see it that way in the sense the past has no worth (he looks fondly back on his meeting with Jack, and I HC what little he remembers from his parents), but rather doesn't want past circumstances to hold him back from the future, like he let them before until he overcame Purgatory Knight.

It also is interesting because both Tasuku and Seto have some things from their past they still have ties to (both relating to the trauma they experienced when they were younger ) that they say don't affect them, but we know as an audience they do. It's things we notice from their subtle actions and words. Plus, trauma is never so easily healed.

For Seto, it's his hatred and anger towards past events, for Tasuku it's the guilt he experienced not being able to save his family from death due to his powerlessness as a child and his past actions as Purgatory Knight. They have taken steps to overcome those things, but that kind of pain doesn't go away, even with grand story moments (EX: Kaiba blowing up Alcatraz and Tasuku defeating Purgatory Knight as a part of Dynamis' trial).

These same sentiments goes for those who are 'shackled' by the past as well, like....

Mokuba.

It's very fitting that once again, the Kaiba Brothers are polar opposites in this respect. Mokuba does acknowledge plainly there were bad things in their past, like the situation they were put into and Seto's coldness to him during the years under Gozaboru, but he is 'shackled' in the sense that his past is still something that very much has affected his perceptions and views and he longs to return to it (and how that limits his own view of the future), despite the fact that is not possible.

His admiration for his older brother? Built on how he was in the past, specifically during the Orphanage days.

Love of gaming? Again, no doubt, spurred on by Seto's passion for it during their youth. Seto taught him chess, which was probably the reason why Capsule Monster Chess appealed so much to Mokuba. It was similar to the game he was taught by his brother.

Him and Seto's dream for Kaibaland? Established when they were younger.

And all of this is symbolized by the fact the lockets Mokuba made for him and his brother are not of a modern-day picture, but rather one of the past: of the good memories the two had together that kept Mokuba going throughout his youth. Because unlike in the anime (which there is some of this too for a short period but not NEARLY to the same extent as to what was depicted in the manga), Seto and Mokuba were NOT close at all during the time Gozaboru was alive. Seto was too busy being studied to death while Mokuba was helpless to do anything to stop it, to stop his brother from losing himself all together as the two were, no doubt, driven apart.

It only makes sense for a kid like Mokuba, who thanks no doubt to Seto's efforts, did not lose himself fully to the darkness of humanity, to idolize and hold dear those past memories where his brother and him were happy together, were normal kids together. Mokuba cares about his brother more than anything, and to him, he's just been forced to watch his brother wilt like dying plant until it becomes unrecognizable.

And from Mokuba's pov, Seto IS unrecognizable (in the early manga but this does slowly change over time) and he's having a hard time gripping with that, to accept fully with all his heart Seto for who he is now and to no longer strive for a ghost of the past. This is something that isn't seen much, but that just further points to evidence it is feelings Mokuba often represses (something that is probably a trauma response for various reasons, from what he went through under Gozaboru's roof, to how his brother treated him in the early manga, to fear of losing everything for saying something, to other factors). He loves his brother and is so selfless in that love and wanting to stay with him, the only family he has left, he sorta puts those feelings aside in most cases unless his emotions peak and tries to make the most out of it.

He still holds out hope that one day his brother will smile with him again, to play games like they used to despite everything, but...he deep down and us as an audience know, that's just not possible. There's been too much pain...too much suffering and trauma to return to that time, as much as we and Mokuba would love for that to be the case.

The clashing of these three philosophies discussed: destroying the past, not being held back by it and looking to a greater future, and trying to return to it are the main focal points of my confrontation thread with @shacchou and I am so hype to see where that thread goes, especially with Mokuba being over at Tasuku's, meaning my Buddy Cop is gonna throw his hat into the ring because he can't help himself LOL

Anyway, thank you for coming to another late at night Rarity Ted Talk where she overanalyzes some of her favorite fictional characters I and my mutuals write from the media we love and the connections that can be made between them and how they can inspire storytelling. I have ideas for more of these kinds of posts, like one for analyzing the similarities between Yugi and Gao because the way they handle loss is very similar and one for how Mokuba's core friend group (Himself, Gao, Suzuha, and Tasuku) mirror Yugi's own core friend group (Yugi, Jonouchi, Anzu, and Honda)

[venalier]

“bogworms’ brains,” caeldori swears to herself under her breath. if only she’d left just a few days earlier! then she could’ve been out there with the rest of them on the field, measuring her skill and strategic studies against her peers. a few wins, or even the grand trophy! — would’ve been the perfect accomplishment to include in her first letter home, convincing her father that her decision to come and complete her time here was far from a waste!

what she didn’t want to tell him was that there were people she was hoping to see again, too.

“andrei, there you are!” there he is prone in the healer’s camp just like she’d been told. the excitement of an old fr— ally? ... pleasant acquaintance? — overruns any concern about his injuries for now. there’d be nothing crippling from the battle of eagle and lion, anyway.

she tries ( and mostly succeeds! ) at fighting back a smile, not wanting to look overeager about something as simple as a familiar face. but there’s an energy to her step that betrays her as she draws up beside him, ignoring the glances of clerics and passersby. “i was looking all over for you. i've come back. i hope you've been well. and what’s this about you having a pegasus now?”

   ♡   //   @ulircursed

[anfwtrite]

onde: uma das praias de zakynthos

com: @ocean-solitude

Não era um luxo que poderia se dar sempre, mas em alguns poucos dias no mês, gostava de se levantar antes do sol nascer para poder assistir ao fenômeno na praia, por vezes acompanhada de seus cachorros Mojito, um corgi, e Bay, um pastor australiano. Como poucas pessoas pareciam ter o mesmo pensamento, também era o melhor horário para passear com os animais sem ter de se preocupar com algum possível caos em algum momento — por mais bem educados que fossem, porque eram, ainda tinham seus comportamentos típicos de cachorros. Uma praia deserta era indubitavelmente melhor para brincar com eles do que uma lotada de estímulos que poderiam sobrecarregá-los. Por esse motivo, aproveitava que a maré ainda estava baixa e o sol não estava forte para se divertir com os bichinhos, lançando uma bolinha para Bay buscar enquanto Mojito parecia em seu décimo sono no conforto da areia. “Bay!” Sua voz parecia um pouco temerosa ao notar o quão rápido o cachorro vinha em sua direção, considerando que tinha as costas para o mar e ser derrubada ali seria se ensopar inteira na certa. “Bay, não!” Tentou endurecer sua voz para ver se continha o animal, mas ele parecia sentir que não estava brava de verdade, lançando-se contra seu corpo e derrubando ambos na água. Agora toda molhada, tirou o excesso de seu rosto antes de voltar a atenção para o pastor australiano, fazendo uma careta ao ver o quão sujo ambos se encontravam. “Parece que Mojito é o único que vai escapar de um banho hoje, hm?” Comentou enquanto se erguia, coçando atrás da orelha do animal, completamente alheia se havia outras pessoas no local.

[crimewrought]

ㅤat first, maria thinks it's being enveloped by these stories, stacked high around them like fortified castle walls, that has her heart stitching itself back together. but even just a little introspection reveals to maria a truth more poignant; it's hearing sebastian's stories, being afforded these coveted glances of old chapters, that's the culprit behind her quiet joy. " on accident, yeah? maybe we should try find it after we're done pestering everyone in here. you can tell me the full story at the scene of the crime. either way, i want to hear it. " maria grins, a wink thrown in for luck as they career down the alleys of bound leather and well-worn pages. she lets his words simmer a moment, lets them float among the dust particles in the shafts of light sliding in through the library windows. what is she looking for in life? what does she yearn for? her heart clenches around the answer, holding it tight inside, desperate and fearful. one day, perhaps, she'll let the truth roam free. but not today. not yet.

ㅤfor @gunbash,ㅤcontinued from here.

ㅤ" big question, " she retorts with a teasing smile, but it quickly becomes thoughtful. in her silence, she peruses the choices splayed on shelves before them, ruminative and quiet as she scans the titles. " .. to turn back the clock. that's something i yearn for. " one hand's up against the bookshelf, finger tracing the titles; her other hand stays entwined, her thumb tracing his. pulling out one of the many titles on display, she holds the book between them; small, worn by time and love alike, a slim thing tucked between hardbacks. the time machine, by h.g. wells. " sounds about right. " smile enduring, she looks up to him. " and what do you yearn to see? aside from destroyed pianos, maybe. "

[areumxmp]

100 Minutes of Solitude

Starter for @baihuamp

It’s a bar, or course there are regulars and of course Areum remembers most of them. Where he isn’t smart with some things, he has memory going for him; so it’s nothing out of the ordinary when he sees someone he’s seen in here a few nights in a row.  The only thing about this new regular, was just that. He was new. This dude has never been here, then suddenly is here every day so that gives the bartender one of three reasons. This man has suddenly understood what depression is and that he has it, he’s a new drinker and suddenly thinks it’s the best thing ever, or he’s new to Mount Phoenix.  Every time this guy comes in, he looks casual, in darker clothing and normally doesn’t say much at all. Not even a thank you for his drinks, though he does nod and Areum accepts that just the same. The fact that he isn’t talkative or on the dance floor rules out the second reason he could be here, so really there just leaves two. 

The ex convict is shaking a drink with one hand, and sliding over a shot of Belvedere and a slice of lime to the regular with his other hand. He offers a smile as always, and after he drops off someone else’s drink he makes his way back,  “Alright man, you’re either depressed or new here. Maybe both.” With a shrug he lets out a bright smile which always contrasts so hard with the way he looks. “Shit honestly we are all depressed but either way, I ain’t never seen you around. I’m Areum~ And I like that Jacket.”  It was a simple introdcution, and he plans to at least somewhat get to know this guy if he’s going to be making him drinks almost every day. Areum finds joy in knowing his customers to an extent, being able to do bartop therapy sessions, and to sometimes be one of the only person in these people’s lives that remembers the things they like.  Bartending may not seem like all that great of a job, but the whole point of him being here was that he would do the opposite of what he used to. For once, he has the chance to be personable and to bring smiles to people’s faces and help them rather than hurt them. And he loves that.

[rasputinshellfire]

Give Me Some Advice | ras give clovis advice teehee

Rasputin's optics burn a deeper red as he leans down to properly stare at Bray Sr.

"Advice: Stay within Braytech facility and rot."

[weyrleaders]

reddit is useful but sometimes it makes me so so angy because you’ll be on a thread where someone is asking a legit question and the first dozen comments are meme jokes and each one has a train of six replies continuing the joke

[edenpoise]

⁽ @xluciifer / @xbalayage ⁾ ― ： starter call. from here .

E . ― AN AFTERLIFE OF SOLITUDE AND BITTERNESS- Or simply having to watch the Archangel stress about life ... sometimes Eve wondered just what exactly would've been better?? Maybe at least with this, she was able to find some sort of entertainment. At least a little, in any case. Either way, Eve would continue to watch with a passive expression- up until her brows twitched together and she finally spoke, " Keep pacing and you're bound to give me a headache, " Briefly wondering if her presence had been ignored, or at least forgotten. She wouldn't be surprised, ever since everything happened- she could be considered a quiet woman.

Keeping silent for another moment, she would continue to watch the other for a moment before a gentle sigh escapes her, eyes darting to the side, " You've been like this for the better half of the day- " Not that the beginning of the day had been any better, not when Eve was stuck here. But she might as well make an effort to understand- at least anything that could be on the other's mind-

" What's it this time ... hm? The Sins? Was it Mammon?? I could understand if it was him ..." She pauses, before adding, " I heard he made a Loo Loo Land ... " Probably a cheaply made Lulu World ...

[silverskyeline]

ੈ♡˳ 'baby fever' - 18+ logan x f!reader

summary: after your first baby is born, logan realises he doesn't want to stop at just one. (4.4k) tags: erm no one look at me, logan has baby fever, fluffy beginning, established relationship, breeding kink, blowjob, p in v, wet & messy, nipple play, overstimulation, creampie (lots of them oops), lots of dirty talk, clit play, missionary + doggy style, dom!logan & kind of sub!reader, crying from pleasure, rough sex, kind of body worship, for the 'home' prompt for logan promptober.

logan swears he’s dreaming, he must be. there’s no possible way he got this lucky, right? he’s holding his own baby girl in his arms, bouncing her on his hip by the bedroom window, watching on in awe as she eagerly takes in the world around her.

the light dances in her eyes while the world passes by behind the glass, birds singing, trees swaying gently, autumn leaves twirling in their yearly gentle dance. everything is new to her, and logan can’t help but be struck by such a profound love. everything feels new to him now too.

he never thought he’d have this, never thought he’d deserve it. still doesn’t believe he deserves it but accepts the role with more honour than any other role he’s been bestowed before it. a father, him, logan, a father.

her eyes droop, and his smile widens more than he thought possible. he makes his way through to her room as he mumbles sweet little words of affection to her in a voice so high pitched that no one would recognise it's his.

you watch on from the bed, a warmth spreading in your chest. you could watch him like this all day. he was a natural, the paternal instinct coming so easily to him. logan had always felt this deep-seated need to protect. though he spent so many years in solitude with no path and insisted he preferred it that way, you knew differently from the moment you met him. logan was a pack animal, through and through.

his eyes land on you as he returns to the bedroom and approaches you, standing at the edge of the bed, reaching out to cup your cheek in a loving gesture. thumb tracing across your soft skin, he speaks, “you look tired too.”

you smile, eyes closing as you lean into his touch, “maybe a little.”

parenthood hadn’t been entirely easy, but you couldn’t have anyone better by your side.

logan carefully makes his way into bed beside you, pulling you against his firm chest as his hand finds your hair and begins to thread through the strands. you hear the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear, soothing you, lulling you, though he could achieve that with his presence alone.

his eyes settle on the window, head tilting to the side. you can practically hear it, the cogs turning. logan might have seemed like a steel trap to others, but he may as well be translucent to you. “what’s up?“ you ask sleepily.

“oh,” he murmurs, he shouldn’t be surprised at this point that you’re alerted by his silent mannerisms, “just. . . thinkin’.”

and he was, thinking about you, about the baby.

“‘bout what?” you yawn.

logan pauses, “. . .would you ever want another one?”

your eyes shoot open and you lift your head to look up at him, you find his expression and realise he’s serious.

he flushes, just a little, but you notice, “never mind.”

a small laugh of disbelief leaves you, “logan howlett, do you have baby fever?”

he flushes deeper, what did that even mean? logan scoffs and you visibly see him retreat into that shell inside his mind.

“oh baby,” you grin, cuddling against his chest as you lean your chin against his shirt to continue gazing up at him lovingly, “you want another baby, huh?”

groaning, he rolls his eyes, “quit it.” he’s beetroot red now, a sight he only reserves for you, though it’s not as though he can help it.

but damn, the baby was only born a few months ago - he was already thinking of your second? the thought fills you with warmth, but more prominently, need. your eyes land on his flushed face as you bite your lip, wondering if he is thinking about filling you up right this very second.

". . . what'cha thinkin' 'bout?" you ask sweetly with feigned naivety as your hand slides down his torso to find the- oh. oh. he's already hard. you know what he's thinking about.

logan groans and tilts his head back when your hand makes contact, his adams apple bobbing as he swallows thickly. "nothin'," he lies, his hand covering yours making you squeeze around his length through the material.

your breath catches in your throat, a heat rising in your chest. "is that right?" you whisper, trying to stay in control. the thought of him taking you, hard and deep, whispering filth about how he's gonna make you a momma again over and over is making it hard to resist rolling over onto your back for him.

and he can sense it, can see it in your face, the way your brows twitch as he grows harder under your touch. it's so cute, actually, how hard you try, knowing he's going to pounce any minute.

but he plays your game, he lets you remain 'in control', though you're anything but.

slowly, you sit up on his lap and begin to unbuckle his belt. time isn't exactly a luxury you can both often afford, what with a newborn baby, but you're too in the moment to care about speeding things up just yet.

his hands rest on your hips, digits digging into the skin as he practices restraint. he wants nothing more than to buck up into you, to throw you on the bed and take you. but he waits. like a good boy.

once he's freed from the constraints of his jeans and underwear, you hum softly at the sight of him, long, thick and ready. your mouth waters at the view, and his eyes widen when you begin to lower your head towards his begging, leaking tip. slowly, oh-so slowly.

logans large hand cups the back of your head, easily engulfing you in his grasp as he guides you lower until he feels it. your tongue. it teases across the tip before you're suddenly wrapping your lips around him. his eyes widen further, letting out a grunt as you take him by surprise.

"holy fuck," he huffs in a grin, "hungry for my cock, huh baby?"

you know now that your control is gone, given up happily and submissively. you know it in the grip he has on your hair, the way he's easing you up and down on his cock. and you'd give him everything if you could, the stars in the sky, the whole world if it were possible.

"that's it, get me nice and ready. . ." he mumbles, losing himself a little in the pleasure, the words dripping from his tongue like honey.

you're not sure what deal logan made with the devil to have the ability to talk as sweetly yet as filthy as he does, as well as he does, but you feel entirely grateful as his sinful words serve to dampen your underwear. you moan against his hardening cock, savouring the way every prominent vein feels against your soft tongue.

he pulls you back, looking into your lustful hazy eyes. you look so pretty like that, he thinks, lips red and swollen from sucking so well, eyes hooded and unfocused because you're thinking about how good that cock would feel stuffed deep somewhere else.

"c'mere," he coos, a hand on your hip guiding you forward to sit closer on his lap, "we need to get you nice and ready too, don't we?"

a growl rumbles from the back of his throat as his eyes travel down the path of your body, resting at the apex of your thighs. he purrs in delight when he notices you're already soaked through to your shorts. "wow, that worked up just from suckin' my cock, baby? you really do want me. . ."

you're bright red, shifting needily on his lap. it's always like this, he drives you to the brink of insanity with need before he's even started. you crave him, crave that thick length filling you so perfectly like it always does, and fuck, you'd give him a baby, you'd give him a hundred babies if it meant you get to experience this over and over again.

"shh," he whispers, his thumb snaking down to tease you through your shorts, applying just enough pressure to have you panting, "there we go, gettin' you nice and ready for my cock, my pretty girl. . ." his eyes flit to yours before returning his gaze to the soaked fabric.

"i am ready," you whine through a choked moan. you're literally dripping.

logan shakes his head, tutting, "tsk, tsk. . . need you extra ready for what i'm gonna do to you, you think i'm just gonna cum in you once?"

holy fuck. your head spins, reeling at his words as you feel your pussy clench around nothing. the ache between your legs grows, almost unbearable, pleading to be filled, used. his name leaves your lips in what can only be described as a needy mewl.

"no," he continues, grabbing your chin and pulling you closer, "see baby, i'm gonna cum in you, over and over. 'till you're nice and full, it's all i've been thinkin' about." his breath ghosts against your lips, "and you're gonna take it like a good girl, aren't you? gonna give me another baby?"

you moan breathlessly, how can you even respond to that? instead you nod quickly, swallowing hard as you try in a futile effort to stop your head from spinning.

but he loves you like this, needy, panting, desperate for his cock. sure, he might have been the one blushing earlier, but you're certainly a pretty shade of red now.

"use your words," he whispers against your lips, teasing you with the promise of a kiss, and a whole lot more.

you feel yourself clench again, his thumb still rubbing soft circles against your clit through your shorts, "please."

"please what?" logan grins, loving how your face twists in frustration.

a whine, "please fill me up, want to give you another baby, please? please, fuck, just fuck me."

he can't help but laugh softly at the needy words spilling from your lips in a desperate attempt to coax him inside. and it's working. his body thrums with pleasure as he remembers how good you feel, how he fits inside you like you were made for him, how good you take it when he gets a little rough.

"that's a good girl. . ." he hums, gripping your hips and flipping you over onto your back. his towering muscled form looms over you, your body opening up automatically, legs spreading and hands by your head. you want him to take you, take all of you. now.

"love this body, was made for me y'know. . ." logan mumbles lovingly as he kisses his way down the column of your throat, hands rubbing at your hips before they begin to inch up your shirt. it rises until it covers your face, and he keeps it there as he nips at your chest. "hm, no bra?" you feel his devious smirk against your skin, tongue beginning to flick teasingly at a nipple.

your back arches, the sensations amplified by the loss of sight. fuck, he loves to watch you squirm like this, and those noises you make. . .

he gives equal attention to both nipples, licking and sucking and kissing your breasts with increasing intensity, smirking all the while. finally, he pulls the shirt from your head, your breath catches in your throat as you look down at him and meet his hungry gaze.

logan begins kissing along your tummy, nuzzling against your soft skin, so close to where you want him yet so far. you want to beg, but you don't get the chance, because soon he's pulling down your shorts along with your underwear. he's greedy too.

kissing the skin that's exposed to him, his kisses trail down your mound, ending at the top of your glistening slit. "ah," he grins, eyes glowing like a man of great discovery, "there she is, she's missed me huh?"

all breath escapes your lungs as he licks a stripe along your pussy, groaning at the taste as he does so. he buries his face in you, licking and nudging your clit with his tongue as he devours you. logan swears it feels better for him than for you, could eat you out all day, but that's not what he's here for this time.

"you're so wet, holy fuck," he swallows, panting softly against your skin, "so good for me, so good, just-" giving a few quick kisses to your pussy, he pulls back and removes his shirt, "don't move."

you almost laugh, why would you want to go anywhere? with a man like logan who worships the ground you walk on, kisses you like it's the first time every time and fucks you within an inch of your life every time - you'd be crazy to want to be anywhere else but here, beneath him, where you belong.

he's worked himself out of his jeans and boxers too, admiring the view beneath him as he takes his cock in his hand, slapping it against your slit. with each squeak that escapes you, his smirk grows wider, "love those noises you make, just for me."

you gasp and arch your back as he begins to rub his tip against your wet folds. you're not sure who he's teasing more, himself or you. a moan slips from your lips each time his cock glides up against your clit, sending sparks to your core.

"that's it, feel how hard i am?" he whispers, "yeah, gonna cum so hard in that pretty little pussy, baby, is that what you want?"

you can hardly take it anymore, "god, yes."

he grins, positioning himself as he hooks your knees on top of his arms as he presses down, almost folding you in half. you gasp and grip the sheets at this new position, and gasp even louder as he quickly and easily slips inside of you. "fucking hell," logan huffs, "i hardly even had to move, you want it so fuckin' bad don't you? feel how deep i can get like this?"

and god, you can. you're not sure you've ever felt him this deep. all you know is how good it feels, his cock straining against your tight velvet walls, finally filling you.

when he begins to move, it's like nothing else. he starts at a slower pace, slow deep strokes as his hips meet yours, driving his cock even deeper as you open up to him. his eyes flutter shut and you admire him above you, knowing you're making him feel as good as he's making you feel.

you find your voice again, and speak up, "your cock feels so good baby, don't stop. . ." you get what you secretly wanted, a moan sneaks from his lips. it's soft, wanting, mirroring the need in your own voice. "fuck, love it when you moan for me. . ."

his eyes snap open, a flash of vulnerability and then his lips are crashing against yours. he kisses you with a deep passion as he moves inside you. logan loves the man he becomes when he fucks you, loves that he can let go, be soft, be rough, be whatever he feels. you'll accept him either way, because you're always a spent mess in the end. all for him.

"takin' my cock so well, always do," he huffs against your lips, driving himself a little deeper, wet sounds filling the air as he slips in and out, "gonna feel even better when i make you cum a few times, when you're so sensitive, taking every last drop i give ya."

you moan and pant, nodding, wordlessly begging him to continue.

"and you'll take it, huh, baby? take it cus you wanna make me a daddy again?" he growls, pace increasing as he fucks you harder, primal instinct taking over, "wanna make me proud and let me fill you as many times as i can? many times as i want?"

holy fuck, you can hardly think straight. in fact, you can hardly think at all. there's one thing, one thought swirling around the base of your skull, you don't want him to ever stop.

you clench around his thick cock and his brows lower, pressing his forehead against yours as he pounds you into the mattress. the bed is squeaking, begging for mercy as he continues, but you feel too good for him to hold back anymore. "baby please-"

"baby please what?" he snaps back, panting as he leans further into you, pushing your legs back until they're almost at your ears. you'd be shocked at your own flexibility if you could think at all. "please fill you up? please make you a mommy again? please what, huh? speak, baby, i can't hear you."

gasping at his tone, you feel your pussy flutter around him. he's gonna make you cum, fuck, you're gonna cum so hard. "i- baby i'm-"

but he doesn't let you finish your sentence, not that you'd make much sense at this point anyway. his cock twitches inside you, almost begging to be milked, begging to fill you until you can't take any more. "gonna cum?" logan whispers, already knowing the answer.

and you can't answer, because you're a mess, gasping and moaning and writhing as his cock makes light work of your wet pussy. his thick length glides in, and out, driving deep to meet your cervix with every thrust.

"cum on this cock," a firm command punctuated with a deep thrust that knocks the air from your lungs, "c'mon, make me cum, you wanted it, didn't you? want me to knock you up nice and good."

your orgasm approaches, a warmth spreading through your lower stomach, rising and rising each time his hips meet yours in his relentless pace. you want to tell him that it feels so good, but your words get caught in your throat. and all at once, your climax rips through you.

it comes in waves, building until your walls are spasming around him and he's cumming too, hot white ropes of cum pushed deeper and deeper as his pace quickens. you're both cursing, panting as his cock pushes it deeper and deeper as your pussy flutters and gushes.

even as the climax fades, he doesn't falter. "told you," logan growls, leaning up to grip your thighs, lifting your lower half to the perfect angle as he keeps it suspended in the air in his tight grip, "gonna cum in that pretty little pussy as many times as i can, 'till i know you're carrying my baby."

it's so overwhelming, in the best kind of way. you wriggle as he begins fucking you again, the new angle causing your eyes to roll back as he hits a certain spot that has you sobbing. it feels so fucking good, both his words and his actions causing you to throb.

"that's it, i know you can take it," he soothes you, "that's my girl, c'mon. . ."

tears prick at your eyes, the pleasure once again building to a crescendo. you don't want him to stop, don't want him to ever stop. though you're so very sensitive, and so very tired, you don't fucking care, all that matters right now is him and the messy love you're making.

he feels a tightening in his gut, his mind spiralling, obsessed with the idea of having another child with you. "you like it when i breed you?" he whispers suddenly, testing the waters.

fuck, that word. did he just say he was. . . breeding you?

logan feels the way you clench around him at the mention of the word and he grins, "yeah, you like that don't you? take that fucking cock like a good girl, let me breed you."

"please-" you beg, feeling his cock twitch inside of you. he's really into this, and so are you, unlocking a whole new side to one another as he fucks you fervently.

how can he resist when you beg so sweetly? he's so sensitive, but his need for release chases him, overwhelming him with how intense his second orgasm is. he spills into you, gasping and grunting as his grip on your thighs tightens. "oooooh f-fuck," logan groans, "feel that? feel me fucking my cum even deeper?"

you're both lost in pleasure now, and with his stamina you know he's not done yet. he grips your hips, flipping you onto your tummy as he grabs your ass, pulling it up for him. keeping his cock nice and warm inside you, he pauses for a few moments.

"can you take another one?" he asks, panting. he'd never push you past your limits, leaning down against your back to give you a gentle kiss on your neck.

your second release is coming, and though you're exhausted, you need more. "yes," you reply, gripping the pillow as he immediately begins to move.

his head tilts back, his palm sliding down your spine, feeling your soft skin beneath his calloused hand and the sensation of your body bouncing back against him. one hand grips your hip as he begins his movements, slowly fucking you, taking his time.

he knows you're close, and he knows your second release will have him cumming a third time, so he focuses on your pleasure. "that's it baby, taking it so well. . ."

you groan into the pillow beneath you, muffled by the fabric. it all sounds so wet, both your release and his dripping from your aching cunt. you know you'll be sore tomorrow, but who the fuck cares? he's fucking you so good you're not sure you'll ever be able to think clearly again.

he's reduced you to a puddle, wet and begging for more.

"such a good girl for me, lettin' me breed you. . ." his hand trails around your front, tickling down along your tummy until he finds your clit. it's swollen, sensitive, and as soon as he begins to play with you, you're a squealing mess.

he grins against your ear, groaning roughly, "you can take it, know you can, make me cum one more time."

you bounce back against him, feverishly chasing each movement, each time he pounds you sending you spiralling further and further into pleasure.

"gonna fuck a baby into you," he kisses behind your ear, "feel all that cum?"

a whine is all you can manage, sweat causing your hair to cling to your forehead, whole body hot and desperate. all for him, always for him.

"yeah you do, take it," he snarls, huffing as he feels his own release build once more. oh god, this one might destroy him. you feel too good wrapped around him like that, the way your wet pussy takes him in so gladly, cause it's his. you're his.

"'m gonna cum-" you cry, sobbing into the pillow as your thighs shake till you can't take it anymore. you're flat against the bed now, his body behind you, taking, pounding against you relentlessly like a man deprived.

but he can't speak, can only communicate in growls and gasps as he explodes inside you, sending you propelling towards your orgasm. it hits you like a bullet, deep, hard, teetering on painful but quickly replaced with so much satisfaction that your screams sound like howls.

he continues working your clit beneath you, slowing his pace until you're both a sweating, panting mess of limbs.

it takes him a while before he can find words, bringing a hand to your face, tucking your hair behind your ear so he can see those features of yours he loves so much. "you alright?" logan asks with that rare soft voice he adopts when he's caring for you. his warm baritones make everything better, voice alone better than any sex.

"mh," you nod, world slowly returning to you in bits and pieces. he pulls out of you, taking a second to admire how very full of him you actually are. he can't help but bite his lip at the sight, watching as his cum leaks from your tight hole, fluttering from the loss of contact.

"didn't go too hard?" he asks, carefully and tenderly turning you onto your front as he grabs some spare pillows.

you shake your head, a smile curling on your lips as you bask in the afterglow, loving how sweetly he takes care of you. he lifts your hips with ease, placing some pillows below.

your eyes lock on one another and he grins, "what?" he asks, "said i was gonna get you pregnant, didn't i? gotta keep your hips elevated, keep me inside."

a flush falls upon your cheeks and you laugh breathlessly as he relaxes into the bed beside you, nuzzling into your neck. he fits against you so perfectly, arm wrapping around your waist while he presses gentle kisses to your skin.

but you feel a mischevious smirk tug on his lips against you, "what is it, logan," you ask in a drawl, grin taking over your features.

"well, was just thinkin'-"

"never a good idea, you, thinking. just leads to trouble," you tease.

he scoffs, "shut up," before continuing, "what're we gonna name out third baby?"

your eyes widen, "third?" he must have made a mistake, maybe he's too fucked out to think straight. you know you are.

"yeah," he grins, his hand snaking from your waist to rest on your tummy, giving it a gentle pat, "after this one."

"more?!" you gasp, slapping his hand with a giggle. "logan howlett." ugh, he's the worst.

he loves that reaction from you, he thinks it's cute you assume he's joking.

except, he isn't joking.

"yeah, c'mon, you think i'm gonna be able to stop at just two?"

you flush deeper, feeling his warm palm splay across your stomach as you tilt your chin down to look into his eyes.

"need names. lots of 'em." logan's eyes sparkle, he's trouble, always has been, and you love it. but you start to wonder if you should have bought a bigger house.

"start makin' a list. now."

[kentopedia]

nanami kento, who hates dating, and didn’t do much of it in his early twenties. but now, he’s almost thirty, watching all the people he works with settle down, have kids, and he thinks he wants that. so he might as well try.

so satoru sets him up on a few dates — friends of friends, he calls them. and at the end of every one of the dinners, kento goes home empty, exhausted, because he knows what they want is not the same.

still; he thinks maybe he’s being a little self-destructive, maybe too picky, maybe he just got so used to being alone. with satoru’s insistence, he gives all the women another call, invites them over to his apartment.

the first time was a disaster… kento had barely set the dinner on the table before his cat had hissed at her, scratched her down the arm in a thin gash. and though it did draw blood, it was hardly enough to warrant that reaction.

he didn’t even try to stop her as she picked up her bag and left, huffing like she’d been morally offend. kento, though, could only smile to himself in amusement.

because maybe kento was a poor judge of character, a man who was secretly hoping nothing would pan out — but his cat could certainly tell the good from the bad.

it became a little game to him, after that. seeing if anyone could win his pet over, and if they could, perhaps they were the one. his darling animal was a fickle thing anyway. a bit too defensive, quick to bite anything threatening after years on the streets.

naturally, no one came back twice.

he was close to giving up, accepting his solitude because he was tired of empty conversations over dinner. but then, he ventured out over the weekend to a new coffee shop, during hours he normally didn’t spend out of his home, and met you.

though you only talked for a moment, kento felt like maybe he’d known you in a past life. a part of him thought maybe it was strange, the way he kept coming back to talk to you, catching you at the end of your shift to see if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime.

by the second date, kento started to think you could turn out to be his best friend.

by the third date, kento wondered if soulmates were real.

on the fourth date, almost two months later, an appropriate time to get to know someone when you were as reserved as kento, he invited you over for dinner. it was, perhaps, the final confirmation he needed to let himself be with you.

he let you through the door, smiling softly as you told him about the book you were reading, and hung his coat on the rack. a moment later, you stopped, distracted, hands covering your mouth in a gasp.

“kento! she’s the cutest cat i’ve ever seen, you didn’t even show me pictures!” you exclaim, and, a few feet away, crouched down. “look at her pretty eyes…”

“careful,” kento said, “she’s not very—“

but the cat approached your outstretched hand, sniffed once, before letting you scratch her under her chin, purring loud enough for kento to hear across the room.

“shes such a sweetheart, you told me she was mean!” you smiled, making a cooing noise as you threaded your fingers through her fur. “kento’s a liar, isn’t he… you’re so precious.”

a few moments later, she snapped her jaw at you in a biting motion, and you only laughed, withdrawing your hand. “alright, i get it, i won’t bother you anymore.”

though she still brushed against your legs, just as she did kento’s, and seemed to communicate some sort of message to him.

“do you want any help cooking?” you ask, tucking your hair behind your ears. “i’m a disaster in the kitchen, but—“

“sure,” kento said, his chest tightening as he blinked back at you, only in his apartment for minutes and already looking as at home there. he wondered if it was possible to fall in love so quickly. “but only if you want to.”