#unless they bring in new rewards

[eorzeanflowers]

Got 3 wins tonight! Typhon is a little boring, but crystals is annoying. >.>

[imagine-nerd]

Something something the same as it ever was

[coweye]

Just Logan

The worst Logan part ii

Logan Howlett x Reader!Loganverse| smut | 10k words

Summary: You return from the void ready to navigate your new reality with the not-quite-love-of-your life. Second Part to worst Logan.

Warning: Mentions of drugs, Canon Typical Violence, gratuitous Laura paternal love. smut, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, assplay mentioned.

AN: Fair warning my loves - this hasn’t been proof read… unless you’re reading this after the 26th August! I’m currently posting this on my phone at an airport 💖 I love you all so much and can’t express how much your love for my stories has meant to me!

Achilles once said “I would recognize you in total darkness, were you mute and I deaf. I would recognize you in another lifetime entirely, in different bodies, different times. and I would love you in all of this, until the very last star in the sky burnt out into oblivion."

For seven excruciating years you’d been without him. 

Eventually, time had dulled the ache, made it so you forgot what it was to have another hold you through the night, to make you feel safe and loved. Love was like a drug; one you had unknowingly spent the past half a decade weaning yourself from.

Then he appeared; ‘The worst Logan’ as Wade had not-so-affectionately dubbed him, and in one fell swoop undid years of hard work. He came and reminded you just how fucking good drugs were - that motherfucker was class-A narcotics and he was addictive as hell.

By mid morning you were already desperate for another hit, your eyes searching for him around every corner.  Part of you was afraid you had gotten him all wrong, that perhaps you didn’t know this man as well as you thought you did. Though at the last second Logan had shown up, unfolding him from the boot of the Honda and joining the fray, every inch the hero he insisted he wasn’t. 

You and Laura sliced a path through your enemies, side by side, the two of you moved in perfect synchronisation. In the years since his death, she had taken Logan’s position in your formation, and now the two of you fought together as naturally as breathing. 

Logan couldn’t help but watch the two of you together for a moment, though after a knife to the ribs as reward for his lack of awareness, he shakes his head free from the indulgence of his ready-made-family and returns to the task at hand, carving his way through the enemy to get to Cassandra. 

 It had been a hard-won battle, though Laura had been extraordinary. You, yourself had been outmatched with the Juggernaut, only in a position to bend the light keeping yourself from sight as you inflicted shallow cuts with your blades along his arms and torso creating confusion and pain that allowed Laura to find her openings.

Your girl sliced through his Achilles bringing him to his knees before she ended his life with four claws through his chest. 

In your eyes, as she stared down Goliath her soft features melted into a renaissance painting. A woman in her own right, overflowing with untold power, those shades making her look every inch the badass motherfucker you knew she was.

You can’t help your untimely realisation that your daughter has grown into a formidable woman as you propel her through the air with bubbles of psionic energy to deliver the helmet to her not-quite-father and Wade.   

The brief moment of triumph as you overcome Cassandra’s men is followed in quick succession by the sobering loss of Logan for a second time, as he leaps through the golden shimmering portal.

It had been the plan all along, and yet you couldn’t quite account for the stone in your stomach weighing you down at the realisation he is gone yet again.

Laura’s deep brown eyes, all too often full of difficult emotions, are hidden behind the colourful sunglasses, though you can tell from the fall in her shoulders that your girl feels the same grief. She had held out childlike hope that the two of you would stay with him despite his earlier brush off and you are far too ashamed to admit you had been harbouring similar hopes.

To have gotten him back for a single day only to lose him again, for you it is painful. For her, it must be torment.

So, you put a pin in your pain for now. Loss is an old friend, one that will no doubt visit in the dead of night when sleep inevitably evades you, but Laura needs you.

Swallowing your grief deep down, you begin by tucking her wild dark hair back behind her ears and with the bone of your knuckle you wipe an errant splatter of blood from her brow.

Around you, your team bask in the defeat of Cassandra and her people, yet the two of you mourn losing yet another Logan.

“The time we had with him was a gift.” You whisper to her. The second you touch her palm with your finger tips; her claws instantaneously retract. You interlock your fingers with her own bloodied ones. 

For a moment the two of you stand together like this, coming to terms with the loss. It doesn’t destroy you the same way North Dakota had, but it has certainly taken the air from your lungs. 

“What now?” Laura asks, burying her emotions, more like Logan than you care to admit.  

“Now we find a way to get back home, Cassandra’s not hunting us anymore, maybe we can-“

“Miss Y/LN, Miss- “At the sound of an unfamiliar voice your head whips round and you are armed with a knife before you even make the decision and from the telltale ‘snikt’ behind you so is Laura.

 “Holster your weapons.” The agent shouts as the group of forgotten heroes turn their gaze on the TVA squad who have appeared from the orange glowing doorway. “You have been offered a pardon on order of the time variance authority - please come with us.”

 Laura steps forward, though you place a steady hand on her shoulder stopping her in her tracks. “The last time we trusted you people, we ended up in this dump.” You shout across the gulf that the agents have left between you. 

When has anything in life been this easy?

 “Mr Howlett and Mr Wilson saved the multiverse. All they have asked in return is for a second chance for the people who helped them do it.”

Whilst remaining utterly compelling it still feels far too good to be true. You look at your daughter; she pushes her sunglasses to the top of her head and nods once. She’s not a little girl anymore and she wants to go through the damn doorway.  With little in the way of options you decide with a deep sigh to be an optimist, which is how you end up in Wade Wilson’s apartment.

Five people (six if you include Dogpool) living in a two-bedroom apartment was …  to put it lightly, snug. Wade being the secret gentleman he was, offered up his room to you and Laura.

Nights he didn’t spend at Vanessa’s were spent sharing a bed with Al, much to her delight, which left Logan sleeping on the couch.

Logan: This Logan was nothing short of an enigma to you. 

The two of you had been friendly, smiling and laughing, sitting together at the party Wade had thrown to celebrate saving the universe.

It felt good, easy even to joke with him and Laura. You had felt like a real family as you sandwiched the young girl between the two of you, taking it in turns to make her laugh.

When she had abandoned the two of you to talk with Yukio and Ellie,  you had fallen into comfortable companionable silence. The simple fact of the matter was that you didn’t have much in the way of small talk, all of your talk was massive talk. A mountain you’d soon have to overcome, but neither of you wanted to break the spell.

So, you simply enjoyed each other’s company and when your knee knocked against his under the table, you didn’t bother pulling back. Instead, when he didn’t immediately recoil, you left it there pressed against the warm muscle. 

This casual touching was new to both of you and you were drunk on it, occasionally you’d brush his plaid covered bicep as you leaned across to stroke the monstrosity that was Mary Poppins or you’d brush your fingers against his with a smile when you handed him a fresh beer.  

It’s fair to say, you are both black belts at emotional avoidance. 

Her abandoned airbed, more electrical tape than plastic at this point, lies deflated in the corner of the bedroom, dual holes from slender claws having led to its untimely end.

With a sigh you rise, stretching your aching back. 

Wincing as it cracks from contorting on the edge of the double mattress- even in the goddamned void, you’d had more personal space than this.

Sparing a glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table, you see it’s 6:23am. In a vain hope you just listen to the sounds of the quiet apartment, no one else has awoken yet. You sigh with relief, desperate for some alone time, after living for a week with everyone underfoot. 

Closing the bedroom door behind you as silently as possible, you tiptoe with bare feet with the honest intention of going to the kitchen for some coffee.

Only you’re sidetracked by the man sprawled across the sofa looking like he was carved from goddamn marble.

The blanket is wrapped around his plentiful jean covered thighs as his bare size twelves extend comically over the arm of the sofa. Logan’s thick, veined and extremely bare arm hangs off of the leather cushion, whilst the other clutches a pillow under his head. Logan is wearing a white vest that leaves very little to the imagination, so much so you’re unable to help the flashback of stroking the abs you know linger below the almost transparent white cotton. You’re unsure how long you stand there, but it can’t be more than 30-seconds before his eyes wearily blink open, startling you.

“Paint a picture, it’ll last longer, Bub.” When he speaks, his voice is even thicker than usual with sleep, it’s like honey on gravel and it makes your skin tingle.

“Uh-” You’re lost for words after being caught ogling the sleeping man. All you can do is a quick apology as you carry on through to the kitchen.

When you’re safe from view, you slap palm to your forehead - Why? Why couldn’t you for once in your life just be smooth? 

The second you're out from under his searing gaze a million infinitely suaver responses flood your mind. ‘Don’t mind if I do.’ ‘Don’t tempt me.’ 

You’re nearly (Y/A+7 years) old, not the idiot girl that pined after the unattainable bad boy of the mansion. For the love of all that’s holy; two different versions of that man have been inside of you, and you ran away!

You’re pacing in front of the fridge when you hear his body slide against the leather of the couch. Honestly, you’re praying for the void to swallow you back up as you try to act casual, filling the coffee machine with water.

 “Mornin’.”

“Good Morning, Logan.” You reply though you can’t quite meet his eyes as you flick the switch for the drip to begin. 

“Back on the couch - Eh, I was just kiddin’ around, Bub.” He scratches his neck awkwardly.

“Oh. I, uh, I know.” You reply, finally meeting his eyes. Those hazel eyes stop you in your tracks as they scan your face for any trace of emotion. He’s as out of his depth as you are, and that thought alone calms you. “I’m sorry, If i’ve been strange the past few days… I thought…I just assumed I would never make it out of the void and I was there for months and uh-”

“Bub… y/n... I don’t hold you to what happened that night.”

“What?” You narrow your brows in confusion, you were only going to talk about the uncomfortable adjustment period to regular life.  

“You were vulnerable, I look like your guy. I get it.” His voice is still deep and he’s trying to be so understanding and noble, you can’t help as you reach out and grab his bare wrist, your forefinger can't even meet your thumb as you hold onto his thick warm flesh.

“Logan, no that’s not what I meant at all. I-” 

“-Mornin’ love birds! Don’t let me stop ya’ from takin’ care of that mornin’ wood, just getting some delicious nectar of the gods.” Wade comes from the bedroom wearing Al’s lilac dressing gown and what looks suspiciously like the older woman’s pyjamas, riding far too high up his shins to be his own for the much taller man. Wade leans against the counter next to you and the coffee machine, burying himself in the neck of the dressing gown and looking pointedly at your hand around Logan’s wrist and whispers. “Pretend I’m not even here.”

“God give me strength, Wade.”  Somewhere along the way, Logan’s rage with the mouth has dampened to the point there’s no real threat behind the warning.

As there’s probably about a few teaspoons of coffee in the machine, every fresh drop plinks against the glass jug only enhancing the newfound silence in the kitchen.

“Good Morning, Wade.” You sigh finally, rubbing your thumb against the hair covered flesh of Logan’s wrist in a promise as you try to use your eyes to communicate; we will discuss this. 

“Honestly, I’m not even here. Just go back to staring longingly at each other, talk amongst yourselves.”

“Fu-” Logan starts, his nose flaring at the man beside you, his finite patience already slipping.  

“Incoming.” Wade sings-song lowly, as he drops his head onto your shoulder.

“What are we all doing in the kitchen?” Laura asks through a yawn, her bed head innately ridiculous standing up on all sides - probably from a night spent tossing and turning, kneeing you in the spine. When Logan tears his wrist away from your hand it stings a little, but you understand, the last thing Laura needs in her life is more confusion.

“There’s a line for the coffee, kiddo.” Logan gives her a look that's somewhere between a smile and a grimace. The man’s sharp edges were slowly being worn away again and he was really trying with his daughter, though a tiny growl leaves the young woman at his words.

“She’s not a morning person.” Is the only answer you have for him when he looks your way both confused and quite frankly a little frightened as your daughter takes the first cup of coffee and returns to her room slamming the door behind her with her foot.  

“Teenagers, huh? Whatcha’ gonna’ do with them?” Wade sighs, still leaning his head on your shoulder having made no effort to stop the queue jumper.

Logan gives Wade a meaningful look and tilts his head towards the door, which the man currently invading your personal space bubble continues to ignore. 

There’s something about Wade you can’t find it in yourself to be annoyed by. 

Those years on the run with Charles, Logan and Caliban had been so hopeless, so void of laughter, that the man with the constant jokes puts you at ease, makes your heart feel lighter. Wade makes you smile which has been a rare commodity in recent years.

Perhaps it's the fact he makes the world feel a little lighter that makes you so willing to tolerate the overly familiar head on your shoulder. 

The two men are having a silent conversation, as you stare at the fridge awkwardly.

“I…uh… I think I’ll jump in the shower.” You detangle yourself from Wade and place a meaningful hand on Logan's arm. “Talk later?”

He looks to your hand, and then to your face and simply nods. 

Only, you don’t end up talking later, because after your shower, you return to your bedroom hell bent on getting dressed and heading out into the city for the day to get some distance before you start your new job tomorrow.

That’s when you find Laura twisting her hands and waiting for you. The second you close the door behind you, she stands.

“You alright, bug?” You ask, giving her the opening she so desperately needs. 

“I, um, have some news.” She can barely meet your eyes, a trait you’re sorry to say she’s picked up from you. 

“Yeah?” You prompt, taking her hand in yours.

“I want to join the X-Men.” Your mouth opens involuntarily to reply, but no words can find their way up your throat; you’re irrevocably thrown. 

In the years since the devastation Charles had wrought on the manor, you hadn’t been able to muster the strength to return to West Chester.

“I know, you might not be sold on the idea but I want to use my powers for good, I don’t want to get a normal job - not that the coffee shop isn’t great for you - but I’m-”

“It’s great, Laura.” Your voice sounds wrong even to your ears. “I’ll do my best to get used to being back in the Mansion-”

“No.” You can tell it slips out, she honestly doesn’t mean it to. “I … I, uh, want to join the X-Men, me. I want to go alone.”

“Oh.” You can’t help the deflated sound of your voice, you hadn’t foreseen your daughter breaking up with you when you woke up this morning.

“No, mamá,” She takes your hand in hers, desperate to fix it. “I love you and I can’t ever repay-”

“No, Laura.” You tell her. She looks terrified before you rush to finish. “You don’t ever have to repay me. You are fucking magnificent, so you go be an X-Man. I love you so much.” 

She wraps her arms around your middle, buries her face in your  shoulder and squeezes, she's just as tall as you are now at nineteen years old and fuck if it doesn’t break your goddamn heart.. “If you get yourself hurt with those do gooders, I’ll fucking kill you.”

After dressing and many more tearful hugs as the two of you talk logistics, it's decided she’d be heading over to the mansion in the morning. 

You start work and so does she.

Your heart drops when you hear she’s put off telling you for the past five days, ever since she’d had the offer from Ellie and Yukio at the party. 

Later that evening telling Logan goes, well, about as well as you might expect.

“No.” He growls furiously. “Absolutely, no fuckin’ way.”

“Logan-” You try.

“You agreed to this?” He’s blind to reason as he turns on you. Al and Wade both sit in the living room, having called an ‘urgent family meeting’. 

“I for one think it's a great idea! - not that we haven’t loved having-” One look from Logan does what you had up until this very moment thought impossible and shuts Wade up. 

“Logan, she’s an adult - she wants to join them. We should be supportive.”

“Supportive?!” He’s incredulous as he laughs harshly, voice utterly brimming with condescension when he continues. “You forgettin’ what happened there, huh, bub? You and I are the fuckin’ sole survivors - Last of the class! How's your Storm doing? Your Hank? Your Scott? Oh wait, their all fuckin’ dead!”

Your Logan never spoke to you this way. Never directed that fire within him at you, it's unfair, the comparison, you know this but your brain is misfiring with shock. 

Had your Logan ever truly cared about anything this much when you’d been together in those dark days? Had all the fight truly left him back then? Had the two of you just ended up together out of mere convenience?

When you don’t reply, he just stares your way, his nose flared still utterly furious, at you, your betrayal, at Laura, at this situation he’s not emotionally equipped to deal with. This Logan’s shoulders are squared like he’s preparing to go a few rounds with you and not in a sexy way. 

It's not a situation you’re entirely sure you’ve been in before; you’ve never been his enemy.  So you’re not sure how to approach this cornered animal, ready to swipe out at you in his fear. 

“If I didn’t go to that school, I never would’ve met any of you. I would be back in Y/H/T (your hometown) and I’d be lesser for it.” 

It utterly disarms him, he’d clearly been prepared for harsh words to combat his own.

Pacing like a tiger locked in a cage, he finally sighs rubbing his forehead irritability. Logan turns, grabbing his leather jacket making the doorframe shake as he slams it after himself. 

“I think he’s secretly happy for you, Laura.” Wade’s voice is light and full of sarcasm.

“That went just about as well as to be expected.” Al huffs from her position at her side as she takes Laura’s hand in her own. “I’m sorry, Sweetie. He’ll come round to the idea.”

“Yes, he fucking will.” Seeing your daughter's face crumble as he storms off like a child is apparently your breaking point.

You follow after him, though as you’re a grown adult in charge of her emotions you simply allow the door to close behind you.

“Haha! - She’s gonna beat the shit outta’ him! Its gonna’ be like 454 when she-” You hear Wade cackle as you take off.

It doesn’t take long to find him, you know the man better than you know yourself, though it does certainly help that he’s predictable as shit.

The closest bar to the apartment is where he’s pulled up a stool, his nose flares the second he smells you.

“I mean it this time, I’m not looking for damn company.”

You ignore him, just as you did the time before. 

“Two Corona’s please.”

“I don’t drink that shit.” he huffs. “Corona and a Blue Ribbon.”

It shouldn’t hit you the way it does. 

Just like before, this miniscule insignificant difference, it utterly devastates you.  

A simple fact; his favourite beer. The drink he ordered at every bar he entered without fail - is suddenly, without warning, repulsive to him. 

It just serves to remind you that the man slouched on the bar stool beside you is a complete stranger wearing the face of your dead lover.

Perhaps your Logan drank it simply because he didn’t want to hurt your feelings? 

Had he hated it all along? 

Did he only drink it because you did? 

Maybe the beer is a pertinent metaphor for your entire life.

He only drank the beer because it was there, just like he only fell for you because there was no one better around. 

Your mind is moving a mile a minute, you’re only bought out of your spiral by a bottle being placed down in front of you.

Shaking your head, you will yourself to calm down. After a few centering breaths, Logan is looking your way. 

“Thought you were comin’ to give me a talkin’ to.”

It's funny, in a way, your spiral actually has calmed you, reminded you that this isn’t your Logan. 

He’s a different man with his own set of wounds, trying to navigate this awful situation just like you are. 

“I was going to. You were a dick to her back there.” You sigh, taking a sip of your beer. “Then I remembered everything… everything you’ve lost and I thought maybe I could just cut you some slack this time.”

“That's generous.” He shakes his head, sipping his own beer. “This whole things a fuckin’ mess.”

You can’t help but agree with a nod. 

The two of you sit in silence, which would appear to be the norm these days, you have so much to say to one another, yet you can’t seem to find the words. 

Speaking to him, finding out more of the things that are different about him, terrifies you.

Little do you know, Logan is fighting a similar battle.

He hates the weight of your gaze, how it seems to hold the expectation of the great man you’d lost with every glance, it's a constant reminder how short he falls of the anchor being this world lost. 

“Where am I in your world?” You ask the question you’ve had on your mind since meeting him. He knows almost everything about you, and yet you know so little.

“Dead.” He sighs rubbing at his eyes. “With the rest of them.”

“Did we ever?” He looks your way sharply at this question, then gives a harsh shake of his head. 

It hurts a little to know you were always in the background for him - it's difficult to think of a world where you always loved him from afar, never getting to feel his skin on yours. 

“I mean - you’d have had to pay attention to someone other than her for that to happen, I guess.”

“How the fuck’-” He growls voice filled with a new emotion, one you’re not quite familiar with. Bemusement? Disbelief?  “-has this turned into me being the bad guy for not noticing you?” 

“Eh - you were a real asshole upstairs.” Smirking, you take another sip of your drink. “Question for a question? - Take it in turns?”

“I don’t wanna’ know anythin’ about your world.” He snaps, turning his head back, though you can see him watching you in the mirror beside the booze. 

It's like a countdown, you watch him battle his volatile emotions. 

5, 4, 3 , 2, 1.

“Fine.” He grunts into his beer bottle. “How’d they die?”

That throws you, you’d expected how’d we meet? What happened to Charles? Instead he hits you with that straight out the gate.

“Uh - Charles had started showing signs of a degenerative brain disease. I mean,  he was old, prone to seizures. We were desperate to find a way to control them. We were blind… to the reality of the situation.” You take a sip, resting your forehead on your hand as your eyes ache and threaten to water, this was the first time you’d ever discussed this out loud.. “Then, he had a fucking grand mal … it … it wiped out everyone within a 100,000 foot radius.” 

Unable to help it, you pick at the skin around your thumb. “It was… devastating. He killed them all. All the kids in their classrooms, our friends and family. Not even Jean could stop him.”

“He… he killed Jean?”

You're a little ashamed of the flare of jealousy at his devastation about the woman you’d always come second to. But you push that deep down, it's not the time nor place.

“How’d you survive?” He questions. 

“I was away. I’d heard of a neurosurgeon in Germany, he was developing… Well, it doesn’t matter now. But I was away, whilst everyone I cared about died.” 

You’d never had a need to speak of it, Logan had lived it alongside you - there was something cathartic about saying it all out loud. You wipe at your cheek as you gulp down the last of your drink, a heavy stone weighing your stomach now. 

“Your turn.” Logan’s voice is deep in thought as gestures to the bartender for another. He’s extending an olive branch, a kindness in the face of your vulnerability. 

You think about it for a moment, what you’d like to know. 

“We were friends at least?”

“Oh yeah, we were the best of friends, Bub. You were… uh … a lil’ younger back there, never really looked at you that way.” He scratches at his bearded chin, he’s avoiding looking your way again, uncomfortable sharing these parts of himself. “You… uh… you were gonna have pups with Pete.”

“With Maximoff?!” You squeak disbelieving, whilst taking a sip of your beer prompting a coughing fit to end them all, as you gasp for air. 

Logan sighs, slamming his open palm between your shoulder blades. He rubs the spot he just hit in a circle pattern, reminding you somewhat of the last time he drew circles.

“I had a baby with Peter?” You push your hair back from your face. “...That's why he used to stare at me … y’know there was one time…” 

You smile fondly recounting a time you caught him staring creepily across your classroom before you remember that sweet silver haired kid in your memories is dead. The smile drops from your face in an instant; you didn’t have children with him because he’s six feet under. 

“No. You were pregnant when….” He grunts, his voice has a raw edge to it. For two people constantly at odds, your souls were in the same state of flux, continually aching for vastly different reasons, yet at the root, the same cause. 

The two of you sit in silence for a moment or two, you’re processing the fact that you almost had kids with Quicksilver and he’s no doubt regretting ever playing this game.

The game. 

“It's your turn.”

“This is why she shouldn’t join them, everyone we know is dead.” Logan has had enough of the game as he sighs, rubbing at his eyes. “Being a goddamn hero gets you killed.”

“Logan.” You touch the back of the hand currently gripping the beer bottle neck like it owes him money. “She’s strong, stronger than me. Laura is you in every way that counts. She’s ridiculously stubborn, headstrong - even when she’s wrong - and she has a kind heart. She wants to use those gifts you’ve given her for good. How can you stand in the way of that?” 

Logan’s hand flips over, his warm callused fingers coming to link around your own. 

“The kind heart is all you, bub.” 

The beers have loosened your tongue, made your anxieties seem a little further away.

“I don’t know. You have your moments.” His fingers dance along your palm, stroking the broken planes.

The two of you enjoy this easy intimacy you’d been forming over the past few days. 

“How’d we get together?” Those instruments of death you’ve seen take countless lives, glide over the soft skin of your wrist. Your eyes, usually so afraid to meet his, can’t leave their hazel captivity as you process his blunt question

“Oh, uh…” Tucking your hair behind your ear with your free hand, your eyes dart to his fingers still drifting across your flesh.

“Don’t get shy on me now, bub.” He smirks, though his heart’s not in it. 

That asshole. 

Taking a deep gulp of your third beer, you rely on the liquid courage, before raising your eyes back to his.

“One night. It was a few days after everything, we had finally got a sedative for Charles. We had a moment to take stock of everything we’d lost. You … uh … he came to me and … he cried. The first time I’d seen it.” His hand pulls back, but you can’t help it, you refuse to release your hold. You don’t want to lose this connection. Your thumb dips, rubbing at his knuckle, at the joint where his claws always caused the bone to ache. “I held him and he kissed me, it was messy. It was desperate but I think we both needed to feel something that wasn’t grief.” 

“And I thought I was special… ” His voice holds sarcasm though you can tell the sentiment behind it is anything but humorous.

“You are special to me.”

“Yeah.” His voice is dismissive, like he doesn’t believe what you’re saying.

“You are.”

“I look like the guy who’s special to you, darlin’. I’m not him, as much as you may wish I am. Hell I wish I was.” He has snatched his hand away as he slams cash down on the bar.

Logan has started the short walk back to the apartment, cutting through the alley.

He’s hurt, burying it deep beneath the rage. His anger is an old friend. One he’s comfortable confronting.

“I’m done with your stupid games. I’m done with it all. Haven’t you got the memo? I’m the worst Logan.”

“I’m so fucking sick of that! You’re so goddamn cruel to yourself.” You cry out at his leather covered shoulders, that in itself seems to stop him in his tracks. The Y/N from his world was a mousy wallflower through and through, nothing he’d seen from this world led him to believe you were any different and yet his ears weren’t deceiving him. “I loved my Logan - I fucking adored him. Yes, sometimes it's hard to separate the two of you, but I care for you.”

He stands motionless in the alley as you bare your soul. 

“I’ve known you for a week. I can’t love you the same because you’re not the same person, not entirely, but my soul knows yours. You’re Logan.” You’ve closed the distance but he still wont turn around and perhaps that's what makes it easier to say the things you’ve been desperate to say for days. “I look in your eyes and I feel safe, when you touch me everything feels like it's going to be okay. You’re not the worst, you’re not the best. You’re Logan; you’re just Logan.”

Logan is on you instantly, silencing your words with a scorching kiss. It's the kind you see in movies, desperate, filled to the brim with passion, usually taking place in the rain.

His hands find your lower back, pulling you to him as your wrap your arms around his neck, making sure he can’t escape from your grasp, as he growls and pushes you against the brick wall. 

Your nose aches from the pressure of his cheek pressed against it as he devours your mouth with his own. He is claiming your mouth with a week of pent up emotions. He grips your thigh, hiking your leg up around his waist, pressing the hardened bulge of his jeans against your core. 

“Mom? … Logan?” 

There in the street light Laura is illuminated. Her face gives nothing away, she may as well be wearing those sunglasses for all you can garner from her expression. 

“Hey Love! - I.. We…uh-” Logan slowly releases your thigh, slyly adjusting his jeans in an attempt to hide his erection. You do your best to stand in front of the -ahem- sizeable bulge. 

“How's it going?” You ask with a faux air of casualness as you place your hands on your hips, though your voice has a weird edge.

“Pretty good. How’s it going for you?” Her own voice has a coy little smile to it, which puts you at ease just a little. 

“Great, I’m great. Logan? You great?”

“Great.” He grunts behind you. 

“Great! - Everyone’s … great.” 

The three of you stand in silence for a second or two, processing what's just happened or perhaps trying to decide if great is still a real word.

“You’re so weird.” Laura snorts. “For the record I’m happy that you both pulled your heads out of your asses.”

“Baby-”

“Kid-” You and Logan speak in sync. Your eyes lock as you both try and decide how the other was going to finish that sentence.

“Laura - me and your Mom… uh… things are complicated… and we don’t want to drag you into this.” Logan, the man of very few words, has managed to find them. You’re stunned into silence as he takes control of a conversation… about feelings… with his daughter.

This is not any Logan that you know.

Laura looks to you, waiting for your seal of approval on the message.  

“I know how confusing things are already, Bug.” You close the distance between the two of you, linking your fingers with hers.  “Me and your dad, we’re working through some things.”

You notice Logan’s shoulders setting straighter at his new title, like a welcome weight has been placed upon them. She nods at your words, smiling devilishly.

“It was just a matter of time, Mama. He has a staring problem.”

“No, I fuckin’ don’t.” He growls from behind you both. Your heart feels lighter than it has in a decade as the two of you cackle at his defensive response.

He digs his hands into his pockets glaring your way, though it has no heat whatsoever behind it, in fact he looks like he’s fighting a smile.

With your hand still firmly in Laura’s you pull her back towards the apartment, linking your arm through Logan’s warm, thick leather clad one. He doesn’t take your hand, but he also doesn’t pull away as the three of you walk back to the house. 

“Can we get pizza? - For emotional trauma?” She questions.

“Baby, I’ll buy you all the pizza in New York.” You reply rolling your eyes.

“Not with fuckin’ pineapple on.” Logan groans.

“Pineapple on pizza is objectively delicious!” Laura defends from her place on your otherside, she pulls on your hand still hanging between the two of you. “Back me up.”

“I will always have your back … but…. pineapple on pizza is in fact a crime against humanity.” 

Logan lets out a guffaw of victory, as Laura snarls his way. You take a mental picture, the warmth in your chest, bracketed in by your two favourite people in the world. Life is good.

Laura leaves the next morning. 

It is a difficult pill to swallow, after seven years by her side. You can’t quite make the leap to take her to the mansion, it's something she understands. So when you embrace her at the doorway after Ellie reassures you for the 30th time she’ll look out for her, you find it hard to let go.

There hasn’t been a day you’ve been without her since you first met the scrawny 12-year old in Mexico. Laura is an extension of you, like your heart is on the outside of your body and you’re not ready for your heart to go to West Chester without you being there to protect it. 

At that moment you understand why she needs this independence, she’s 19 years old. She needs her own life, to experience everything it has to offer but that doesn’t make letting go any easier.

“You call if you need anything, anything at all.” You tell her as you push her hair behind her ears. “Don’t stay up too late but also don’t go to bed too early to make friends but make sure you get plenty of sleep.”

“I will get the perfect amount of sleep, don’t worry.” She grabs your wrists, removing your hands from her hair.

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” You sigh, your anxiety is eating away at your stomach. She’s not the vulnerable child being hunted anymore, you try to remind yourself. “If you need me-”

“-If you need us. We’ll be there.” Logan cuts you off, interjecting his own amendment. 

In a show of affection you’re not quite expecting, he hugs the girl. It's somewhat awkward and clumsy, the two have known each other for a week, but when they pull back, you can see the gesture was all that really mattered.

He hands her her backpack, which she throws one strap over her shoulder. The two smile at each other in their silent language, both such quiet souls. 

When she turns back to you, you ask. “We can walk you down?”

“Stay here? It’s easier this way.” She looks so small as she pleads with you.

Taking mercy on her, you nod. 

“Okay.” Waving you watch her turn for the door. You don’t expect however when she turns back and barrels into your chest for a final time, burying her face in your neck.

“I love you, Mama.” She whispers, you can’t help it as your eyes water. You wrap your arms around her, squeezing her tightly to your chest. 

“I love you. You are my world.” You know she needs you to let her go for her to be able to walk through that door. So with a deep inhale of her hair for the road, you pull back gathering your strength. You pull her other strap onto her shoulder and push her hair back from her face. You wipe her tears from her cheeks and give her the biggest smile you can muster, despite your teary eyes and broken voice. “Give them hell, baby.”

Laura nods, giving her own matching teary smile. Her back straightens and her shoulders square as she follows Yukio and Ellie down the hall. The duo waving at you as they descend down the stairs.

You’re so busy watching your world disappear down the hall you barely feel the heavy warm hand wrap around your shoulder in comfort. You melt into Logan’s side as your heart shatters.

You wait for him to leave in a hurry, only he does the last thing you expect of the Wolverine. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you to his chest. You close your eyes as the tears begin to fall against your will. 

Logan strokes your back. He doesn’t offer any words of comfort, but he doesn’t need to, his presence alone is enough.

His trimmed beard, bristles against your hair as he places a kiss on the top of your head, burying his nose in your hair as he holds you. 

It's hard to say how long the two of you stand there like that. Only when your body stops shaking do you finally look up through tear streamed eyes.  Logan looks down at you, his face is lined with concern. 

“You good?”

“I will be.” Your voice is broken from crying. “I-”

“I know, Bub.” He smiles your way, one you’ve not seen, perhaps ever.

It's soft, sympathetic but filled with adoration. He pushes the strand of hair, now sodden with tears, back behind your ear. His finger lingers on the curve of the bone for a moment or two before he pulls back. 

“Bar?”

“Bar.”

Things change when Laura leaves. Not massively, and not entirely for the worst.

You and Logan had started sharing the bed, not like that (unfortunately), but sleeping next to one another. It was comfier than the sofa and his body curled around yours made you sleep a hell of a lot more soundly. Suddenly years of insomnia were cured by his muscled warmth curled around you like a safety blanket.

He never made a move to further it, even if you had once or twice tried to entice him by grinding your backside against his morning wood. The man was nothing if not resilient as he rolled away, grunting.

The two of you had been getting to know one another, you had resolved to treat him like a whole new man. This revelation meant that their differences weren’t such a blow anymore, you didn’t actively compare the two of them as much.

You had created a clear picket line in your head and it seemed to be working. They were two different versions of the same man, each with their own merits and disadvantages. 

They weren’t to be compared.

The two of you had started a ritual of movie nights, evenings where you’d sit a little too close on the couch and pretend it wasn’t happening. He’d share a blanket he knew he didn’t need just to get close to you. It was a little uncomfortable when Wade asked to come under the blanket but you enjoyed the time spent with the clown,  

In fact, your favourite night had been when you, Wade and Al had all sat down to watch the Notebook - the movie Logan point blank refused watch.

Yes, the movie he objected to so strongly, then proceeded to watch from behind the couch, standing awkwardly on the threshold of the lounge. Where he lingered for the first half an hour pretending to have no interest in it. 

When the end credits came around he was back under the blanket with you and Wade, utterly refusing to admit that he’d cried. 

That argument with Wade had gotten heated and he’d put three little tears in your blanket, but it was one of your fondest memories in this apartment. 

It had been three weeks now. Only two of them had been spent hunting for a room that you could afford on a barista’s salary, which was the only job you were qualified for after dropping off the planet for the past ten years.

Colossus had offered you your old teaching position though you didn’t want to cramp Laura’s style and you didn’t think you could face stepping foot back in that mansion, too many of your ghosts lingered there. The same could be said for Logan, though he had found much better paying work at St Margarets.

He and Wade did odd jobs, merc work to pay the rent. They killed bad guys and got paid for it, and boy they got paid a hell of a lot more than you.

The coffee shop below Wade’s apartment, or waking hell, as you’d come to know it was your slice of a regular life; trying to push your circle peg into a triangle hole.

Its a 24-hour coffee shop, cause who doesn’t need caffeine at 3am? Tch. New York. You’re leaning on the counter a million miles away, contemplating if the graveyard shifts are worth the illusion of paying your way when Logan makes up most of your share of the rent anyway.

Your singular customer is a young guy typing away on his laptop, desperately trying to finish what looks like a college essay. He’s eleven espressos in and has been here since before your shift started at 5pm. You haven’t been told if you can cut someone off, but surely that much caffeine must count as overserving. 

The bell above the door tingles loudly, the warm lights illuminate his red mask. 

Wade.

“Hey angel baby!” He comes to the counter, pretending to read the board as if he hasn’t been here a million times before.

“Hi Wade.” You smile tiredly at the man. “What’cha want? It's on the house!”

“Ooooh, gimme’ a Caramel Macchiato but hit me with like 6 shots espresso, extra caramel and don’t skimp on the whipped cream - I like to call this the don't stop til dawn.”

“Your insides must be a mess.” You shake your head and get to making his drink. 

“How’s the soul crushing service industry treating ya?” He asks, leaning one hand on the counter.

“It’s okay. A little boring, but not so bad, nobody's shooting at me.” You motion downwards with your eyes to the fresh bullet holes in his red suit.

“Ha! Yeahhh. But it's good old fashioned fun, beating guys to a pulp, saving kids from trees, taking candy from cats.” You roll your eyes at the man. “But they say, if you love your job you never work a day in your life! And boy, I love my job.”

You're steaming the milk when he speaks up again, shouting loudly over the machine. “You should come and work with me and Logi Bear. He’s 10% less of an old grumpy fuck when you’re around.”

He’s still shouting when the machine quietens, making your cringe a little as the kid looks your way. This isn’t the first time Wade’s broached the subject with you.

“I get you wanna move out, we love having you, but I get that Al’s old lady smell can get sorta’ overwhelming after a while.”

“Wade.” You sigh, admonishing his jokes about the lady who you’ve grown to care for in the past month. “If you didn’t live in a two bed, I’d love to stay, but it's just too small and I want you to have your bedroom back. I hate feeling like a burden.”

You secure the lid to his drink when its finally complete. “One heart attack in a cup.” 

“My favourite.” His mask contorts around the eyes showing his smile. “Oh Wolvie’s upstairs in bad shape. Something took a fuckin’ chunk outta him.”

“What the fuck Wade?! Why didn’t you lead with that?” You’re pulling off your apron and halfway around the counter before you remember your shift isn’t over for another hour.  

“Cause’ then you wouldn’t have made my fast juice.”

Ah fuck it.

“Don’t steal the cash register.” You warn the kid looking your way. “He’ll hunt you down and beat the crap out of you.”

Wade waves at the kid behind you, he has his macchiato in one hand and baby knife in his other for special effect. The kid gives a look of ‘Jeez’ before returning to his work.

“You coming?” You ask when your almost half way through the door.

“Nah - saving innocents makes me hungy. Fork hands has his healing factor. He'll be fine.” Wade replies dismissively.

Huffing you turn on your heel and practically run to the apartment. 

A chunk out of him? 

Logan's healing factor was significantly better without the adamantium poisoning but surely he could die. In an instant you’re back in North Dakota, holding his hand as he fades away. 

Your breath is heavy as you take the steps two at a time. 

Not again. 

The door is thrown open and instead of chaos you find the lights dimmed, candles all over the apartment and there Logan stands in a new plaid buttondown and his finest wranglers. He’s holding a bouquet of sunflowers in those veined hands you love so much. It's like something out of a Danielle Steel novel and you utterly melt.

The panic that had clutched your heart recedes. Your anxiety releases its grip on you. 

“You’re not hurt?” 

“No, bub. I’m fine. Sorry for the clown. He offered to help and I…”

You shake your head and smile at him, hesitantly you take a step forward. When you’re close enough he hands them your way. “I have it on good authority, they’re your favourites.”

“They are.”

“I wanna give you what you deserve, sweetheart.” He starts, it's like he’s rehearsed it in his head. Little do you know it's all his thought about for the past three weeks. “You deserve more than a romp in the woods, or an alley.” 

He seems to cringe at this before continuing.

“I’m not like the other guy. He was a goddamn anchor being, hero through and through from what I hear about him. I’m angry, I kill people and I drink too goddamn much, but when you look at me, I feel like I could be him.” For the first time, it is him that takes your hand in his much larger one. “Do you know how jealous of that asshole I am, Bub? That he got you first? That he got to have your uncomplicated love. If you’d been older in my timeline, I would've’ met you first, I wouldn’t have looked twice at another and I’d have fallen for you the second you looked up at me from beneath those eyelashes, how could I not when everything about you is so easy to love?” 

You’ve always been a crier, and this is no different. The man is stamping down every single one of your insecurities, reassuring you as you go. Making you feel more loved then you’ve ever felt before.

“I adore you. From your crappy cooking-”

“-Hey.”

“Your porny books you think I don’t see, to the way you cry at movies, how much you love our daughter. I fuckin’ love you Y/N. Its messy and complicated, I’m not sure if you could-”

In a total role reversal it is you who cuts him off, grabbing his face in your palms and dragging his face down to yours. Your mouths join for the first time in weeks, it is hot and full of desire and love. It's like the two of you are releasing all of your tension into this kiss, finally the air has been cleared and it's rejuvenating. 

You press your forehead to his, gasping for breath as his kisses steal the air from your lungs.

“Lo, I guarantee every version of me loves you, even if you were too blind to see it in your world.” 

“You were a married woman in my world, bub.”

You gasp theatrically. “Adulturerer.”

“You’ve spent too much time with that fuckin’ idiot.” He kisses your lips, though you don’t let it turn into anything deeper, as you pull back rubbing your nose against his. 

“Fornicator.” 

“tch… stop.” He groans, grabbing your ass pulling you into his bulge, you bite his lip with a giggle. “Why do you have these lined up?”

He never gets his answer as he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his back and carries you through to the bedroom. You pull away from his mouth, looking over to the set dinner table.

“The food… you went to all that effort!” He is kissing your neck, nipping and lathering the bites with his tongue. 

“Can’t cook for shit, darlin’. It’s take out, we can heat it up. I’m hungry for your fuckin’ sweet cunt right now. “

Your lower stomach clenches at his positively filthy words, you join your lips back to his. His teeth nip at your lip as he plunges his tongue into your mouth, running the tip along your teeth. 

Before there had been need, but now, you’re both desperate. You’ve had a mere taste of what the other has to offer and now you’ve starved yourself for months. 

“Not gonna’ last long on the first, darlin’.” He groans into your mouth as your hand works its way into his pants. He is eager as he throws you back onto the bed and is already working at peeling your black jeans down your legs. “Those fuckin’ shorts you sleep in, fuck. I’ve been dreamin’ about buryin’ myself in ya’ for weeks.”

“Please, Lo.” You’re not sure what you’re already begging for but you are desperate. You’re left in your uniform tee and panties, as he slowly unbuttons his button down, slowly revealing the white undershirt beneath. You’ve never found collarbones particularly attractive, but the tanned skin stretched across his is quite frankly delectable. 

You pull your shirt over your head, all too eager to be rid of the reminder of the job you should by all rights be at right now. Your bra is quick to follow.

“Those gorgeous tits, been thinking of these every fucking night.” You groan at his admission. He himself is shirtless, you have half a mind to return the same complement as your hands brush against his perfectly sculpted pecs. 

This man was the perfect specimen, it was unfair, t shirts should be outlawed for him. He grabs the waistband of your panties. 

‘Snikt’ and a rip sound and you are utterly bare before him, laying across Wade’s bed. 

Those gorgeous strong hands trace the planes of your body, circling your nipples before his mouth takes their place. 

He groans as his hands descend to your core. “All this for me? I’m gonna’ fuckin’ slide in, Baby.” 

And he does, two fingers push through your tight slick opening, three weeks of foreplay have left you soaking wet and wanting. How can you live with a man who looks the way he does, who consistently works out in the living room shirtless and not have the ocean in your panties. 

It seems Logan has had all he can take as he slides a third finger in, pumping it in and out of you, rubbing at your clit with his thumb. Gasping you grab at your sheets desperate to anchor yourself. 

He kisses up your breast, lavishing your chest in kisses and bites. Never enough to leave a mark but just enough to excite you. 

When he’s at your neck he leans in, whispering into your ear. “I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin that pussy.”

You can’t help it, maybe you’re a whore for this man, but you don’t fucking care. Your legs part even further on the bed.

“Please, Logan. I need you to fuck me.”

He grins savagely, pushing his already undone belt and jeans down his hips. He’s back up and claiming your mouth, your legs wrapped around his ass, pulling you down to him before he knows it. 

One hand is bearing his weight as the other disappears, he lines himself up at your entrance, the head of his cock breaching your folds. He’s thick, thicker than you remember, but there isn’t any discomfort this time. He settles for a moment, his forehead against yours. His mouth dips to join your lips, his tongue lashing out and fucking your mouth as his hips leap forward spearing you on his cock. The bed creaks with the power of his hips as he fucks you hard into the matress. 

Skin slapping on skin is all that can be heard as he readjusts onto his knees, he’s desperate to be as deep as possible and you need the same thing. 

“Lo-”

“I know, darlin’.” He grabs your waist, lifting you as if you weigh nothing at all and flips you over. Suddenly you’re astride him, your knees either side of his hips as his head rests in the pillows. 

His eyes are distracted by your tits as he smirks, happy with the view. 

You ache for him, so you reach down, lining his thick purple headed member with your core before you sink down in one stroke, his extended groan absolutely wrecks you as his big hands come to rest on the meat of your hips. 

You rest your hands on his amply hair covered chest, using his pecs as leverage before you raise your hips before slamming back down and bottoming him out. 

He’s so deep inside you, the tip of him must be brushing your goddamn cervix as you raise yourself once more, until he almost slips out before meeting his hips once more. 

Logan’s strength never fails to surprise you as his hands follow your lead yet help lift you through the manoeuvre. 

You’re bouncing on his cock, quick rise and fall sporadically grinding your clit deliciously into his pelvis. 

Logan feels fucking amazing inside of you, maybe its been the buildup of weeks but you find yourself heading towards the dive faster than ever before. 

“Ride my cock,sweetheart. That’s it, make yourself feel good.”

Gasping at his words and the change of position as he sits up, wrapping his arms around you and claiming your mouth. The second you find the angle that feels amazing against your clit, you hit it again and again, grinding hard against him.

“Lo - I’m gonna … I’m gonna -” You crash before you can get the words out, your toes curl by his knees and your whole body seizes in ecstasy. The world feels right as the stars appear behind your eyes.

The world stopped for you for a moment but not for Logan. He has bought his knees up and is pistoning his hips into your contorting body. He’s holding you against him, groaning into your neck as he continues to fuck your clenching pussy relentlessly.

“Oh fuck … your so fucking tight. Fucking perfect cunt- made - for - me.” He growls into your neck, but you’re too cock drunk to hear it properly, as he frantically thrusts his powerful hips up and into you. 

“Where? ” He pulls back, never slowing his hips as he grabs your cheeks with one hand. Your sweat laden face, vacant and looking back at him, your cunt hasn’t stopped clenching around him as he plunders your depths, his voice is strained as he asks again  “Darlin’...you gotta … tell me … where?”

“...inside, Lo. Please come inside me…” Your so overstimulated, you could cry.  The sound of his balls slapping against skin as he thrusts upwards deep inside of you, whilst he pulls your body down. He’s so fucking deep inside of you, your pussy squelching from a mixture of precum and your arousal.

With another string of lewd words he’s coming hard, Logan’s head has fallen back against the headboard exposing the thick chords of muscle, you can't help sinking your teeth into it, you dip your hand and rub at your clit clumsily, you’re so fucking overstimulated from watching him you follow him over the precipice once more, giving him an insanely tight sheath to come in. 

“That’s it, take it all, sweetheart” He groans as he continues to slowly pump his seed deep within you

Gasping you fall slack in his arms, your bones are jelly and your muscles ache, you really are a pillow princess. 

“Still with me?” You manage to nod your clammy forehead against his pec, you currently have your cheek squished against. He chuckles, as he lies back against the pillows, leaving his cock still inside of you, you can feel him leaking out of you as he softens a little, recovering for what you imagine will be another enthusiastic round if history is a teacher. 

You are utterly fucked out as you lie on his chest, listening to his breath with his cum slowly leaking from your abused hole. 

The two of you have never needed words, you lie against his chest, the hands you adore so much, come out to stroke your hair.

Rubbing soothingly at your scalp before running his calloused fingers through the locks and repeating. 

When you’ve finally gathered enough strength you lean on your hands, looking up at him.

“Welcome back, bub.”

“Hello.” You smile shyly, like you hadn’t just sunk your canines into his neck whilst wantonly riding his cock to oblivion. 

“You okay?” He asks, his hand rising to stroke your swollen bottom lip.

“Someone fucked me brain dead - but yeah, I’m good.” You smirk, nipping at his thumb.

He grins wolfishly and chuckles with his whole body, the movement causes his cock to move inside of you. Slowly you feel him hardening once more.

“You can still talk, Darlin’. Means I haven’t done my job properly.” The predatory gaze in his eyes excites and scares you in equal parts. Though you’re probably asking for trouble when you take his thumb back in your mouth. 

It's light outside when you finally have to tap out. 

Your pussy is aching, your ass is stinging from the new sensation, your jaw throbs and your entire body is boneless. 

You can’t quite catch your breath and your cunt is leaking so much cum, that you’re probably 10% Logan at this point. 

The Wolverine has utterly devoured you, making up for three weeks of torment in one night. Though he’s not all bad as he feeds you noodles from chopsticks as you lay on his muscled hair laden thighs. 

When Logan had suggested food, you’d had to stop him from eating Wontons from your belly button as none of your holes were currently operational. 

The two of you have dressed, though that is a strong use of the word as you’re wearing only his button down and him only his underwear. 

You’re lazing on the couch watching reruns of Friends as your bed sorely needs fresh sheets and a new base. Poor Wade, you’d have to replace it before you move out. Like he could read your mind, Logan begins. 

“I found a new place, its nothing fancy but its got four walls and no roommates.” You smile at him around your mouthful of noodles as he takes his own bite.

Sitting up you smile. “That’s great news, Lo.”

“I uh- wanted to see, if you’d wanna come with me.”

You can’t help your grin. 

fin.

I am currently posting this at the airport before my flight. I love you all! 💖

[shirecorn]

Changelings! Six legged insectoid beasts grown to the size of ponies, their target mimic species. Rather than evolving perfect physical mimicry, changeling imitation is a two-pronged process. In addition to a color-shifting carapace, magic distorts and twists the silhouette to match the mimicked subject. The spell is weaved with a rapid beating of the the wings, which creates a delicate network of invisible magic threads that tie the changeling's physical form to the projected mirage to make it move. After casting the spell, the changeling needs to recast it periodically, so if you doubt your friend's identity, listen for the buzzing of wings.

It takes a lot of concentration to keep the illusion in place, and changelings are naturally much taller than ponies when standing at their full height. Inexperienced or agitated changelings may forget to crouch, which breaks the illusion in a terrifying way. Because the features of the mirage are bound to the underlying insect body, moving wrong will distort the perceived form before it reveals what lies beneath.

The reason changeling bodies are so much longer than their target species is to allow a changeling to mimic creatures many times their size, provided they have the wingspan to reach the entire length of the target individual. A full wingspan is the sign of a healthy changeling, one that has enough magic to cast their illusions without much effort. Without sufficient magic, a changeling must constantly refresh their spell, and the ceaseless beating tears their delicate wings to shreds.

There is one changeling with enough magic to spare: The Queen. Drones store magic in their tails and bring it back to feed her. The queen of years past has been bleeding them dry and soaking up all their magic, leaving what should be a healthy reservoir in their tails as a withered pocket. This new style of ruling could possibly have started as a response to the ascension of the Goddess of Love, and the resulting magicification of feelings of romantic and platonic love.

For millennia, changelings evolved to feed on emotions directed at them (or rather the being they mimic) and convert it into magic. Positive emotions were the most stable, but any emotion worked. But when Love started to feel an entire meal, and gave the drones strength to subsist on their own, their queen demanded every drop of intoxicating love for herself, leaving them in a constant state of starvation and desperation.

Just a little love can go a long way. Changelings are forbidden from changing their colors or illusions to express themselves, as they must be seen as "mindless drones" and part of a single hive mind, despite their potential for individuality. Instead, they remain black unless imitating a pony or other creature. Each section of a changeling's carapace has a clear top layer with liquid suspended above the actual armor layer beneath. Microscopic grooves display different colors and shades based on how much of the liquid fills them, and how much pressure it's under. With the base colors set, wings spin the illusion of form to completely disguise the changeling beneath.

But what if they didn't have to save all their energy for disguises? What if there was enough love to go around?

The Changeling Revolution is an ongoing battle, but it has a hopeful, vibrant spark. Led by a mild-mannered former "drone," a growing faction are discovering peace, safety, and individuality by feeding off love directed not at illusions they cast, but to the people they truly are. It's a scary, vulnerable first step to allow others to see your true nature, but the rewards of loving and being loved are worth it.

Revolutionaries are not "reformed" so much as healed by embracing individual love. It turns out when each changeling allows themself to have their own color, preferences, and name, then the love felt from one changeling to another can be converted into magic, and a hive can become a thriving ecosystem within itself.

Nymphs, once destined for a viscous cycle of deception and starvation, are now able to bask in love given to them by hivemates, and they grow up stronger and kinder than any generation before. Though they can only shift into pastel colors until their carapace fully hardens and darkens, they still express by choosing their own look, name, and destiny.

The healing of the changeling population is as varied as their prismatic colors, and as beautiful as their glittering wings.

[autistichalsin]

One thing that fascinates me with Halsin is how sometimes, the only way to get him to admit certain things is by being profoundly cruel to him as a player.

For example: the infamous post-Drow scene. He refuses to use the word "captors" to describe the Drow that held him (which is part of why I never got the impression he had actually healed, honestly, but that's a conversation for a different post). Even in the new scene, there is only one way to get him to call his abuse, his rape, what it was. If you are a Lolth-sworn Drow Tav, you have one of the evilest dialogue options in the game-

"So the mighty bear is an escaped pet, then. I wonder if there is a reward for your return..."

To which Halsin responds with a terse, "you would be unwise to attempt it, trust me. In any case, the house of my captors is long extinct." Then he pauses and looks thoughtful, "interesting. Part of me still thought of them as hosts. But I suppose 'captors' is indeed more accurate."

This is the only option the player has that gets him to admit it, and it requires being unspeakably evil to him, threatening to sell him back to his captors.

He romanticized his past as a sex slave (both as a reaction to the Shadow Curse's stresses, and to make his slavery safer in his mind), but when you threaten to sell him back, you make it real for him again, and he is forced to admit it didn't matter if he did "some things that were less than necessary," he still didn't enjoy it, and yes, they were his captors, not his hosts.

The other example is getting him to admit he loves you. Unless you are playing as Origin Karlach (in which case he will use the word under different circumstances near the ending), he won't use the word love to/about you except as a term of endearment. He might use the words "my love", but never says "I love you."

Unless, of course, you decide to be an asshole and say you are breaking up with him, only to change your mind, multiple times, ignoring how increasingly upset he gets each time, accusing you of liking to see him crestfallen. And then, eventually:

"Why would you test my patience like this? Sometimes it is difficult to love you." (Emphasis mine).

Difficult to love you- but he still does. He doesn't break up with you after this, doesn't say this is the last time and next time you bring it up is it... nothing. He still loves you despite you toying with his heart. And much as above, it is the only way to get him to admit out loud that he loves you- by being a complete and utter bastard to him.

I just find it interesting. Sad, but interesting.

[hellyeahscarleteen]

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of Scarleteen: queer sex ed for all since 1998❤️

[muwapsturniolo]

♱ 𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐆𝐨𝐝, 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐞’𝐥𝐥 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤 ♱

IN WHICH…A virgin meets the new priest of her church, father Matt, and her world of all things holy begins to crumble.

WARNINGS…Religious figures, god is mentioned, Demons, innocent!reader, and blood.

APOLOGIZING NOW TO ANYONE WHO IS SUPER RELIGIOUS! THIS IS NOT MEANT TO DISRESPECT ANYONE, I JUST GOT THE IDEA FROM OTHER SMUTS I'VE READ, THE SONG BY PATD!, AND THE MOVIE MOTHER!

From the time she was born, Y/n was introduced to the church, her 1-week old body being bathed in the tub of holy water. Her parents made sure to bless her quickly, not liking the idea of their child being tainted instead of pure. As she grew up, her parents kept that going.

They didn't let her go to public school, opting for her to be homeschooled. Except it wasn't the typical version you see in movies and TV shows, it was a school system that was based on their religious views. every day at 6 AM, the girl would get ready, walk to church, pray with the other church children in the community, and sit in the cathedral, and learn the bible. At 4pm, she would make the walk home and do her homework at the table, as her mother cooked dinner and her father worked. By 7:30 she would be in bed sleeping.

She didn't see anything wrong with it, none of the children did. Their parents never let them go into town with the heathens, they never let them watch TV or movies unless it was holy.

It was a very strict and mundane lifestyle, but it's all she knew so she had to be ok with it.

However, there was a certain day that was her favorite.

Saturdays.

It was her favorite day, but she would never say that out loud. It was a day she had to herself, being able to do whatever she wanted within reason. She would usually spend the day at the park, nose-deep in a book as she ate the snacks her mother packed for her.

That brings us to today.

She was giddy as she pulled on her pink Mary Janes, the sleek material complimenting her white frilly knee highs very well. She bounded down the stairs with ease, her steps light and fairy-like. Just as she makes it to the last step, her father comes out of the kitchen holding her lunch bag for the day.

"Park today?"

"Yes Daddy," she gives him a soft smile, which he returns. He hands her the brown sack as well as a few dollars. She frowns in confusion as she stares at the money in her hand. "Did you need me to grab something from the market?"

Her father chuckles and shakes his head, "You've been good. I heard from Father Jon that you did well on your test, so I decided to reward you. Why don't you get yourself some ice cream before you go to the park? it's a hot day."

She gives him a wide and joyful grin, her mouth salivating as she already tastes the vanilla ice cream in her mouth. She gives him a tight hug and a quick kiss before rushing out the door.

Her movements are childlike as she skips towards the park, the ice cream stand soon coming into view.

"One vanilla cone please!" She hands the worker the money and watches as he scoops the ice cream into the sugar cone. She's soon walking off with the cone, her tongue licking up the sides of the dripping desert. She hums in delight, thanking her god for such a delicious treat. She was in her own little world, oblivious to the pair of eyes trained on her. She didn’t feel the piercing gaze watching her tongue swirl along the cream, but she did feel the heat on her body. A thin sheet of sweat forming as the sun burned bright.

Sadly, she finishes the cone quickly, but her sadness is replaced with joy as she sits under her tree. She sets her bag next to her and pulls out her lunch sack and her book.

She wasn't allowed to read certain books, her parents monitoring whatever media she consumed. She managed to convince them to let her get versions of the Bible and stories from the Bible that still had a bit of freedom and new world views in them.

She knew it was a sin to be sneaky and lie to her parents, but it wasn’t that bad of a lie…right?

She hums as she pulls out her book, The Handmaid's Tail. It was a pretty dark book, but she loved the storyline, eager to see how June finally would make her escape.

She sets her book down due to the heat and begins to search through her bag, looking for one of her handkerchiefs to wipe her face. Suddenly a looming shadow forms over her, blocking out the blazing sun of California. She looks up from her bag and sees a man, a very tall man at that.

“Sorry to disturb you angel, I was just wondering if you were ok. You seemed a bit…parched.” She swallowed thickly as his bright blue eyes bore into her, everything about him making goosebumps rise on her skin.

“Oh-I umm-it’s a bit hot and I was just looking for my handkerchief.” The man hums and hands her a bottle of water, a smile on his face. "Take this, seems like you need it." She couldn't tell if it was the sun making her cheeks heat up, or if her face was hot in bashfulness. His smile was angelic, gracing his face as his teeth shined bright and white.

"T-thank you, that's very kind," she says softly as she shakily takes the water from him. The man watches with pricing eyes as she takes a sip of the cooling liquid. He watched the way her lips wrapped around the rim of the bottle, some of the liquid dripping out the sides and down to her chest. He licks his lips as the water collides with the cross on her neck.

"And what is your name angel?"

"Y/n"

“Beautiful name…Tell me Y/n, do you follow the path?”

She gives a firm nod, “Yes sir, it’s the right way to live.” The man smiles at her words, his eyes soon landing on the book in her lap.

“The Handsmaid Tale? That is a pretty heavy book, especially with June defying the natural order of Christ.” Y/n tenses, feeling scolded like a child by his words. She knew the book was taboo, anyone in her town who read it would hate June's defying personality. It was known to her that everyone agreed with the mindset of Gilead.

She looks down at the book, now feeling bad about tricking her parents into getting her the book. She knew if they found out what she was really reading, they would lose their head. They'd probably burn all her books and have her wash the floors with a toothbrush again.

“I um, I-I won’t tell.” Her breath catches in her throat as he winks at her. He chuckles at her shy and timid demeanor, enjoying how flustered he's made her.

Suddenly Y/n catches a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye that makes her turn her head. Her eyes land on a person who’s standing far away, their outline being a simple black figure, but it doesn’t seem right.

Their body is curved slightly to the right, their head looking like it’s going to fall off their body. Their arm was raised halfway, giving her an eerie wave. It unsettles her, her body suddenly feeling cold and tense. The person reminds her of the shadow people she would see late at night in her room when she was younger.

“W-who’s th-“ She turns to the man only to realize he’s gone. Her brows furrow in confusion, where could he have gone that quickly? She looks back where the assumed person was standing, only to see them walking towards her, only they aren't walking,

They're running...Quickly.

She scrambles back, her eyes wide and breathing ragged. She feels her back hit something making her scream in fright.

"Calm down angel," She quickly turns around and sees the man holding a plain white rose. She turns her head back to see if the figure is still running at her, but they're gone. She looks back towards him in a panicked confusion.

"They-It-But you-" She pants heavily not understanding what just happened. The man ignores her confused jumble of words and holds the rose out to her.

She stares at the rose in confusion, not understanding why he's offering it to her.

"Take the rose angel, all angels deserve a rose."

She's hesitant for a moment but slowly reaches her hand out for the flower. She takes it and stares down at the rose fondly, examining it's fragile petals.

"I'll see you around angel," He whispers as he walks away. It takes a moment for her to realize, but she shoots her head up and calls out for him. "Wait I never-" She winces feeling one of the thorns prick her finger.

She brings her finger closer to her face, watching as a pool of crimson trickles down the side of her hand. It's almost as if she's captured in a trance, her eyes void of all emotion as she focuses on the blood. Her eyes land on the petals of the rose, the once bright white flower now tainted with the crimson fluid

She stares at it, watching the substance soak into the petals.

"Y/n there you are! It's late and time for dinner!" She jumps in shock and drops the rose, her head darting up to see her mother. "let's go! you've been out here for hours! And what happened to your hand?" her brows furrow in confusion.

Hours?

Her mother rolls her eyes and motions for her to grab her things, "it's already 5 o'clock!" Y/n's lips parted in shock. It couldn't be 5 o'clock, she didn't even get to eat her snack yet or read more than a page of her book.

Seeing her mother's frustrated look, she quickly gathers her things and stands up, following her mother back home and listening to her rant about being inconvenienced.

She's soon showered and dressed in her pajamas, dinner having already been eaten. She lays in bed and stares at the ceiling, her mind swarming with the thoughts of what happened at the park.

She couldn't understand that shadow figure, how time moved so quick, nor could she understand the man she met today.

She'd never seen him before, was he new in town? How religious was he? Would he be at church tomorrow?

It seemed as if her slumber flew by, as soon as she closed her eyes, they were opening once again.

It's Sunday, meaning it's time for church.

She goes through her routine quickly, making sure her church clothes are modest and not a hair is out of place. It wasn't long before she was sitting in her usual seat of the church, listening to Father Jon preach as her pink bible sat in her lap.

It was the usual sermon, Father Jon preaching about how it's important not to stray from the righteous path of the lord, and how you should devote your whole life to thy heavenly father.

"Before we end our day with our prayer, I would like everyone to welcome a new face to our church. He came all the way from Boston to be with us so I hope all of you give him a warm and heavenly welcome. "

The girl looks up from her bible and gasps softly when she the man from the day before. He was wearing a long-sleeved clergy shirt and suit jacket, his rosary hanging from his hands that were clasped together.

"Thank you all for having me, i'm joyful to see what this church is like. I wasn't satisfied with how they ran the church in Boston." The man speaks with a soft smile.

"How rude of me, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Matthew, but you all can call me Matt, Father Matt to be precise. If you don't mind Father Jon, I'd like to read a quote from Proverbs and debrief on it a little."

Father Jon nods firmly and steps to the side, allowing Matt to have the podium.

He clears his throat and looks down at the bible, flipping to the page he was looking for.

"Proverbs 26:28..." Matt's eyes search the crowd before landing on Y/n, making the girl tense. His gaze was firm and unwavering.

"Proverbs 26:28 states that 'a lying tongue hates its victims, and a flattering mouth works ruins.' .'' His voice bellowed through the speakers of the church.

Y/n can't help but shrink in on herself, she knows why he chose this scripture. She anxiously begins to tap on the hardcover of her bible, not being able to break her eyes from his.

"Lies are tools, harmful tools that hurt others and grant the liar whatever they want. Proverbs is trying to tell us that liars don't care about their lies hurting others, and that liars are selfish and greedy. The second half of the scripture states that when we flatter others to get what we want, we are causing damage. "

A loud thud is heard as he slams the bible shut, his gaze finally breaking with Y/n and scanning the rest of the attendees.

"So you see... This is a very important scripture. I don't like liars, and I'm more than certain the church doesn't either. I'm under the impression that confessions are to take place after our sermon today, so I suggest you take the opportunity to confess your lies and sins to be forgiven."

Y/n looks down, nibbling on her bottom lip anxiously. She felt guilty about her actions.

Why would she lie to her parents? The people that gave her life and love her...all for a few books?

She was a sinner.

They get through their ending prayers and stand up from their place in the pews, "Let's go greet Father Matthew and let him know how grateful we are to have him." Her father states. Y/n quickly shakes her head.

"N-no! I'm sure he's tired of all the greetings! How about we just g-Hello you three," She tenses hearing the all too familiar voice. She turns around and comes face to face with Matt who has a mischievous smile.

"Father Matthew! It's a pleasure to have you join our church!" Her father's voice is joyous as he shakes Matt's hand firmly. "Thank you for having me, I'm hoping this church is a better fit for me. The church in Boston seemed to...stray from the path and warp their views into the bible."

Matt's eyes move to Y/n who is staring at him with wide eyes, "Y/n, nice to meet you again."

Y/n stares at him nervously, her whole body frozen. Besides the fear of him exposing her lies, she's not sure why he makes her so nervous, something about him is off...and she doesn't like it.

It's like that feeling when you're on a roller coaster, at the highest point anticipating the drop.

That's where she was currently, at the top of the roller coaster, waiting for Matt to drop the ball and tell the truth, exposing her lies and manipulative tendencies.

However, it doesn't come.

"Forgive me, your daughter and I met yesterday at the park. You all are raising a wonderful, and holy-spirited girl. I can't wait to see how she performs in class tomorrow."

She blinks and suddenly she's back home and lying in her bed, staring at the ceiling. She doesn't know how she got here, she still remembers being at church and standing in front of Father Matt. She huffs and pulls her blankets higher up. As she does so, she notices something moving in her closet. She turns her head just in time to see a shadowed hand clench the side of her door from inside the closet. Her eyes widen seeing the long talons scratch the white wood, creating an ear-piercing scratching noise. Her whole body is stricken with fear, frozen in place as the small hairs over her body stand up, alerting her of danger.

Before she can scream, her door is opened, the hand reaching from the closest quickly retreating as light floods the room. She whips her head towards the door and sees her parents standing in the doorway.

"No book tonight?" Her mother asks in confusion. Usually, the girl would be tucked into bed, nose-deep in a book. "N-no, I umm...I don't really feel like reading anything tonight," She answers softly, trying to make sense of what she just saw moments before.

"Well, we just came to say good night and also tell you how happy and proud we are that you made a good impression on Father Matthew. Make sure to keep that up, maybe he can put in a good word to get you in the choir."

She says nothing, just pulling the blankets closer. Her parents go to leave the room but she quickly stops them, "Can...Can you leave the hallway light on with my door cracked...Please?" She questions timidly. Her parents give each other a look before looking back at her.

"You're not seeing things again are you?"

"No No..." Another lie.

"It's just...I actually might read a little bit before I fall asleep." Another lie.

"Alright, that seems fine. Just don't stay up too late, you have school."

Her parents do as asked, leaving the door cracked and the hallway light on. Y/n tries to go to sleep, closing her eyes and saying a soft prayer as she begins to drift off, the hallway light casting a soft glow on her face.

As she falls into a deep slumber, doesn't hear her closet door opening, nor does feel the shadow looming over her, watching her.

AHHHHH PT 1!!!! PLZ LET ME KNOW WHAT YALL THINK SO FAR! CHAPTER 2 REALLY DIVES IN DEEP FOR THE PLOT SO I CAN'T WAIT FOR YALL TO READ THAT NEXT!!!

𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 🍑: @mattslolita @thenickgirl @guccifrog @luverboychris @zayyluvz @mrsmiagreer @chrisssluttywaist @78yaz @hoesformatt @freshloveforthefit @3lizaluvs @mattsturniolosgirlfriend @jetaimevous @luxy-nyx @ts-is-my-spirt-animal @iihrtsturniol0 @idontexistman @katw4shereee @madisturn @starlace111 @zivall @adoreindie @imwetforyourmom @sturnsxplr-25 @sturncakez @theyluvme-2315 @moonk1ss3d @@babyalliah-777 @sturniololol @oliviasturniolo21 @ariithereyet @blahbel668

[stxxryvoid]

˚₊‧꒰ა Silly Things That They Do ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Genshin Impact

✧ Silly (and sometimes annoying) things that they do, but it's okay you love them anyway <3

✧ Featuring ✧ Childe, Heizou, Kazuha, Kaeya, Venti, Kaveh, and Itto x GN! Reader (Separate)

✧ Content Warnings ✧ Some swearing

✧ Childe

"Rise and shine sleepy head!" No further explanations needed.

He'll roll you up in your blankets for no apparent reason and then leave before you can escape the soft prison he put you in.

If you're going to jump on the bed he'll mf snatch the pillow and you fall on the bed itself.

When he's cooking he'll def shape the food into cute shapes.

He'd probably find something you're looking for and say he doesn't know where it is, but a while later will give it to you so you can praise him and give him a kiss.

Comes up from behind you and puts his hands over your eyes saying: "Guess who?"

Tells you to stay out of trouble when he's gone even though anything you do will never amount to the shit he does when he's working.

✧ Shikanoin Heizou

Kicks your feet under the table like he's a damn child.

Anytime he does something he expects a kiss as a reward.

He could literally open a jar you couldn't open and expect a big kiss and cuddles.

If you ask him to make you coffee he'll definitely make it!

You just won't get it unless you get up yourself because you only asked him to make it not bring it.

But if you ask him next time to bring the coffee he'll bring the whole ass coffee pot bc you didn't ask for it in a cup.

Will blame you for him waking up late on a work day when he's the one staying up late to work on cases.

Gets genuinely offended when you tell him no fried food bc it's not good for him.

He does a ">:(" and gives you one-worded responses for an hour.

He's not mad he's just the biggest tease to exist on Teyvat.

Start getting actually upset and he actually feels so bad and does anything to make it up to you.

✧ Kaedehara Kazuha

Comes up behind you without making a sound says "Hi." and scares the living daylights out of you.

If you catch him doing smth he'll use such poetic words you can't even understand to get out of the situation.

Starts spitting poetry out of nowhere.

It could be dead silent between the two of you and he gives you a romantic poem.

If he's cooking he will put food you do not like in there but hide it so well it tastes good to you.

While you're eating he'll stare at you like 🙂

Then you realized you fell victim to eating smth like brussel sprouts again.

If you're working he'll deadass show up in your office or smth.

Like how??

No notification from your coworkers and you js look up he's there.

Kazuha 10/10 horror movie killer material, silent footsteps, appears out of nowhere, unsuspecting, and has a sharp weapon

He knows so many cats like wtf

A cat comes up to him he pets it and says "Hi, cat name." AND DOES IT W SO MANY CATS??

✧ Kaeya

Okay I know I called Heizou the biggest tease but I changed my mind.

If Heizou is the king of teasing Kaeya is the all knowing, all powerful, all mighty god of teasing.

Flirts with you at the most random times.

Could be fighting some monsters he decides its the best time to try a new pick up line.

And it's always the best one's too, but he decides to save the horrendous ones for completely normal times.

He has no life.

With no cavalry to captain he can't be the cavalry captain so with nothing to do most of the time he's glued to your hip.

He'll play with your hair in front of someone no matter how many times you smack his hand away.

Claims he needs some random article of clothing on him fixed just so he can have your attention.

Y'know that thing where you bump your hip on someone to make them trip/fall over?

He does that.

If you stumble he'll act like he did nothing and turn the other way.

If you fall and it's hilarious he'll laugh before helping you up.

But if you fall and hurt yourself he'll actually feel bad and help you up and make sure you're okay. He's at your beck and call for the rest of the day.

He needs attention.

It's like taking care of a big cat.

✧ Venti

Also does the hip bump thing.

If you go to find him after he does some drinking he could be in the most random ass position ever.

Laying back down legs up against a building.

Passed out on some hay in a crate.

Sleeping under a bench.

You can't even be surprised anymore.

His feet are actually icebergs.

When he takes off them stocking things he puts his feet on you and your body temperature decreases by 20 degrees.

Styles his hair and yours in the most random ways.

If you wear makeup he took it once and ended up looking like a barbie doll got into a street fight and lost.

Sings you songs about the most random shit.

He turned milk and cookies into a song.

Meowing back at cats is normal.

But he barks back at dogs and really puts the enthusiasm in it..

✧ Kaveh

Plays with his food.

Moves it around on his plate to form shapes before he actually eats it.

Sometimes is drinking while he draws things and was painting once and ended up drinking the paint water on accident.

He spat it out and started rubbing his tongue while you and Al haitham were like 🤨

Thought all he loses are his keys?

Nah everything he's touched has been lost at least once.

He's still looking for some things that vanished into thin air.

He sometimes talks in his sleep.

Mostly about you, cats, dogs, and food.

He's actually so knowledgeable on beauty products??

You could be buying something for skin care and he snatches it and says "No."

"Don't buy this..." and yaps on for a good minute.

Then he'll go and pick up smth else for you and buy it for you and you're js left there shocked.

✧ Arataki Itto

This man is the epitome of silly.

He also cant whisper for shit.

Do NOT shit talk someone to him all of Inazuma will know within 30 minutes.

He has so many spare combs.

A backup comb for his comb a back-backup comb for the backup comb a back-back-backup comb for the back-backup comb and so on...

Don't give him hot sauce. Just don't.

Do NOT mess up his hair. He'll be ":(" the entire day.

He knows about lots of good food.

Can he cook any of this good food?

Hell no.

If you cook him anything he'll be so happy and eats every last crumb, would probably eat the plate to get all the macromolecules of the food.

(If he even knew what a macromolecule is)

If you make him something it's treasured forever and the only fingerprints on it are yours and his.

Definitely owns a diary somewhere.

-Stxxry

[godslino]

IN CONTROL | jeongin established relationship. college au. smut. minors dni.

pairing: jeongin x fem!reader word count: 4.7k warnings: explicit content, swearing, soft!dom jeongin, unprotected sex, sex toys (vibrator), public humiliation (kinda), fingering, piv, spanking, creampie summary: jeongin buys a new toy and decides to test it out in the library

· · · ♡ masterlist · · · ♡ taglist · · · ♡

“This is the best idea I’ve ever had.” Jeongin mumbles, his eyes dark, trained on your every move.

Jeongin is a menace, insatiable, constantly finding different ways to turn your sex lives up a notch or two when he has the time. And tonight, he’s trying something new.

Well, you both are.

The library is unusually busy for a Friday night, you realize, as you squeeze your thighs together and pull your bottom lip tight between your teeth. Jeongin’s still watching, probably has spit pooling in his mouth at the sight of you squirming in your chair. He does little to hide the slight upturn of his mouth, and it only serves to turn you on more.

There wasn’t much that could have prepared you for what he had waiting the minute you strolled into his apartment earlier, his eyes sparkling when you planted an innocent, unknowing kiss on his cheek.

“What’s that look for?” You had asked, raising an eyebrow when his smile only grew.

“We’re still going to the library tonight, right?” He asked, hand on your waist as he caged you in against the counter of his kitchenette. His fingers flexed atop the fabric of your jeans, already excited, itching to touch.

“That’s the plan. Unless you don’t want to, but I really need to study for my philosophy debate next week and—wait. What is that?”

“Surprise.” He said, pulling a small box out from behind his back. You let your eyes dart between him and the gift, something like anticipation swimming around in your gut. It wasn’t a holiday, or an anniversary, and Jeongin really only ever got that look in his eye when he—

You pulled the lid off, eyes going wide at the site of a pair of lace underwear sitting in a bed of tissue paper. Beside it, a small remote.

“Is this…”

“Mmhm,” Jeongin hummed, placing the box on the counter so he could pull you in by your hips for a kiss.

Painfully slow, his tongue worked your mouth open with force, cock already pathetically hard beneath his sweatpants at the mere thought of having you at his full disposal.

“You put these on before we leave, and if you show me that you can handle it,” he paused, dropping his voice an octave lower, the resulting growl enough to send a shiver down your spine, “I’ll bring you back to my place and reward you.”

That’s how you found yourself here, seated at a table towards the back of the library, the soft lull of a vibrator against your core as Jeongin controls it with a remote hidden in the pocket of his sweatshirt.

“You seem to be—mmnf—enjoying this.”

Jeongin smirks, wets his lips. Even with the way his hair falls into his eyes, it’s hard to miss the hunger in them.

“You have no idea.”

Despite his outward facing, saccharine sweet demeanor, Jeongin harbors an almost animalistic desire beneath toothy grins and shy rubs to the back of his neck.

When you first met, you found him cute and quiet, too reserved to even spare a glance in your direction for the most part. Not that you were any better, but to say you were shocked the moment you and Jeongin finally fell into bed together is an understatement.

Of course, it took a few times for him to let loose, to feel comfortable enough to let go and have you take him fully, but once he did he couldn’t stop.

Jeongin is all rough hands and filthy words, guttural moans and spit stained sheets from when he gets too drunk on the taste of you that he can’t be bothered to clean it up. The worst part? You love it. You love the praises he whispers and the secret touches he gives when no one is looking, love the way his eyes will find you from across the room and undress you inside and out, your stomach twisting and turning from just a single upturn of his lip. Jeongin throws your world on its head, satisfies you in ways you never thought possible.

“Jeongin—ah.” His name comes out as a broken moan, the vibrator pressed tight between your legs. He must be cranking it higher, the sensation getting more and more intense, the squeezing of your thighs barely enough to contain it.

“What was that?” He asks innocently.

Jeongin leans back in his chair, far enough for you to see the way his hand twitches in the pocket of his sweatshirt, a stronger vibration following immediately after. “I didn’t quite catch what you were trying to say.”

Torture. That’s the best way to describe this. Jeongin’s been edging you for the past fifteen minutes, waiting until the last second, when you look like you’re about to come undone, only to lower the setting and leave you whining behind the screen of your laptop as you hide your face. It was more bearable when he had it set to a constant speed, but now, you’re barely managing to hold it together

You’ve waited too long, pretended to be taking notes for what feels like forever, when you finally decide to beg him for relief. “Jeongin, please, can we—”

“Hey lovebirds!”

The world, seemingly against you, decides that now is the best time to send a crescent-eyed Hyunjin waltzing up to your table. He’s got one hand wrapped around the strap of his bag, hair tied back into a ponytail, and he looks an awful lot like he has enough free time to make small talk. How cruel.

Unsurprisingly, Jeongin’s smile grows. The vibration increases between your legs. Fucking hell, he looks like a kid in a candy store, teeth on full display. “Hey Hyune! What are you doing here?”

“Oh Innie, I ask myself that every time Old Yeller over there tries to sweet talk me into taking her granddaughter on a date.” He jerks his head in the direction of the help desk where Mrs. Jung is already staring at him over the top of her glasses.

Hyunjin rolls his eyes before turning his attention to you, “Long time no see, y/n. Tell Yang to start bringing you along to hangouts so we can talk about him behind his back.” His eyes disappear into his smile, and you do your best to reciprocate.

“She would never.” Jeongin says, eyes narrowing in your direction at the exact moment the vibrator begins whirring with more intensity.

You take a deep breath, white-knuckling around your pen as you fight to suppress a moan, “Mmhm. Sure thing. Sounds fun. I’ll make sure to be there next time.” You pause after every few words, giving yourself just enough time to collect your bearings as Jeongin continues to wreak havoc against your throbbing core.

Hyunjin, bless his heart, doesn’t seem to notice. He smiles—beams even—before his eyes fall to the open philosophy book next to your laptop. “Oh, shit, you’re in that class too? Must be a different section than mine, but I haven’t even started reviewing anything. Seungmin’s going to beat my ass before the debate.” Jeongin’s thumb brings the vibrator up one notch. “Do you mind if I take a peek at your notes for a sec?”

Yes, you want to say. But you can’t, you know you can’t. And, more importantly, Jeongin knows you can’t.

“Yeah sure, I—hah—it’s uh, it’s all in here.” You say quickly, turning your laptop a bit so he can see the screen.

“Fucking bless. You’re a lifesaver.” Hyunjin says in relief, oblivious to your little slip up.

Jeongin saw it though, heard the way the moan almost fell from your lips. He’s been painfully hard the entire time, straining against his underwear, cock swollen from how badly he’s turned on. Hyunjin showing up doesn’t do much to help, only adds to the thrill of it all. You look so pitiful trying to hold it together, trying to hide how good you feel. To hide the way Jeongin is controlling how good you feel.

You’re being good for him. So good. He could bend you over the table right now if he wanted, fuck you so the whole student body can see for all he cares.

You visibly relax when Jeongin brings the intensity down, your legs shaking as you slowly relieve some of the tension off of your aching thighs. The knot in your stomach is still there, sitting on the precipice of release as the dull hum of the vibrator continues. You’re so close it’s almost terrifying, unable to predict what you'll do when Jeongin finally gives you the satisfaction of letting go.

As if he can read your mind, Jeongin’s foot knocks against your shin under the table. You shift your gaze up to him, cock an eyebrow as if asking What? Done for now? to which he replies with a wink. Challenging. You lick your lips. Jeongin’s dick twitches in his pants.

“I don’t know why,” Hyunjin says, squinting at the screen, “But I have this feeling that Professor Kang is going to give our class the question about free will. Like, whether or not we have it. So if I was going to argue from the standpoint of compatibilism, that means I’m only speaking for instances where external constraints are absent, right?”

“Well, yes,” you begin, leaning in closer, “But you have to remember that compatibilism doesn’t mean that humans are free, though. Always make sure that—” Jeongin’s foot starts sliding up your leg, stopping right at the inside of your knee, “—that, uh, you don’t confuse your stance with one of the other three perspectives.”

Hyunjin furrows his eyebrows. “Yes, but, if there’s an absence of external constraint shouldn’t that mean they’re free in a way? The constraints are what’s stopping them, no?”

You blink hard, eyes fixed on the screen as you try to refocus your attention on what Hyunjin is saying. “Y-Yeah, but, sometimes you—” Jeongin’s foot slowly pushes your knees apart until your legs are spread wide beneath the table, enough so that your folds are no longer separating the flat side of the vibrator from your clit. He gives no warning, no time to process what’s happening until your entire body jolts forward from the force of the vibration against your now exposed clit.

“Woah, are you okay?” Hyunjin asks, eyes wide. You let out a few hesitant breaths as you straighten back out. Jeongin’s foot is firm against your left knee, forcing it open as he innocently fiddles with the corner of his notebook.

He’s playing a dangerous game, tiptoeing the line between teasing and just being downright cruel. Jeongin supposes that the ideal situation would not be for you to come undone right here at the table, Hyunjin’s eyes on you as he waits for a response, lips parted in confusion and concern.

“I’m fine I’m just—”

“Actually, we have to go.” Jeongin cuts in, glancing at his watch. “I forgot that we have a dinner reservation at seven. Must’ve slipped my mind. You can email him the notes, yeah babe?”

You blink at him in surprise, swallowing when his foot trails the length of your leg until it’s resting back on the ground. The vibrator turns off, and Jeongin lifts his eyebrows in a silent signal.

“Y-yeah! Of course,” you turn to Hyunjin, “Sorry, I don’t mean to cut it short. You can definitely text me if you have any more questions though.” Your voice is strained, throat tight with anticipation. Jeongin is looking at you like he could eat you alive, and it takes everything in you to not moan right then and there even without the sensation of the vibrator against you.

“Oh, yeah! Yeah totally. I don’t want to keep you guys any longer,” Hyunjin says happily, his eyes taking on that familiar shape, “Have fun you two! Also, Yang, I’m watching you. You’d better invite her out with us next time!” He calls out, pointing two fingers at his eyes before turning them in Jeongin’s direction as he walks backwards towards one of the study rooms. Jeongin gives him a lazy wave before focusing his attention back to you.

“All of a sudden?” you ask, not bothering to lead in with anything else.

Jeongin doesn’t say anything, just starts shoving his things into his bag. You watch him for a few moments, eyeing him carefully. Is he…mad? No, right? There’s nothing you could have possibly done to piss him off. If anything, you're the one who should be mad at him for making you look like a fool in front of Hyunjin.

When it’s clear that Jeongin isn’t in the mood to talk, you slowly start packing up your own things. Your legs feel like jelly once you stand, aching from the knot of arousal that’s still sitting low in the pit of your stomach. Jeongin lets his eyes trail your body before he pushes away from the table.

“Come on, let’s go.” He mumbles, eyes dark. You open your mouth to say something but he pays no mind, just grabs your hand and heads straight for the door.

//

The walk is silent. Jeongin only grunts in greeting at the person behind the front desk of his apartment building, hurriedly making his way to the elevators as you struggle to keep up, his grip on your wrist the only thing making sure you’re close behind. Jeongin doesn’t say anything during the ride up to his floor, either. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t react.

You’re at your limit when he punches his code into the keypad of his apartment, flinging the door open and ushering you inside. You’re about to confront him, about to turn and ask what you did wrong and apologize for whatever it might’ve been when he slams the door shut and yanks you by the wrist, pulling you with enough force to have your back against the wood in a matter of seconds.

One hand above your head, palm flat against the door, Jeongin uses his other to cradle your jaw and slam his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. Your hands fly to his hair immediately, tangling themselves in the softness of it, pulling slightly to elicit a groan out of him just the way you know he likes.

“Did so fucking good,” he mumbles against your lips as he drops both of his hands to press your hips further into the door. “Gonna reward you now, yeah? Gonna make you feel good. Give you what you want.”

You clench around nothing as his words shoot straight through you, nothing but heat spreading throughout your entire body as his mouth works hot against your neck. You squeeze your thighs together for something, anything to relieve your want for more.

“Jeong—fuck, please.” You whine when his hand slips into your pants, and you feel him smile against your neck.

“Look at you begging. Always so good for me, so needy.” His fingers grip the end of the vibrator as he slips it out of the pocket of the underwear and tosses it somewhere on the floor.

You gasp, your eyes flying open. “You’re going to break it.”

Jeongin chuckles, “I’ll buy another one.”

“You can’t just waste money on that.” You groan and pull his head back by his hair, “I bet it was expensive too, wasn’t it?”

“I’d spend any amount of money if it meant I’d be able to see you look that fucked out in public again, baby, trust me.” Jeongin smirks. “Now, can you ride my face or are we gonna continue to argue about my financial responsibility?”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, smirking when Jeongin’s eyes flicker to them. He takes it as the okay, drops to his knees, and smiles in satisfaction at the hiss that leaves your mouth once he pulls your jeans down to your ankles and the air hits the wet fabric of your panties.

“Fuck, look at you,” he sighs, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to each of your thighs. Your legs start shaking almost immediately. “Can’t believe you’re mine.” He mumbles as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband and pulls them down your legs, helping you step out of it.

Jeongin cups his hands under your thighs, thumbs pressed to the inside of them, and then spares one last look up at you through thick lashes before he’s leaning in and licking a stripe up your folds. You nearly collapse then and there, but his hands hold you up, grip firm.

“Holy fuck,” you groan. Jeongin hums against you, licking and sucking at your clit like his life depends on it. He feels like it does. He can’t help but pull back and admire how red and swollen you are, sensitive as hell from all the edging, your wetness practically leaking all over his chin. He lets you fist at his hair as incoherent words tumble from your lips, lets you grind your hips into his face as he stiffens his tongue so you can fuck yourself on it, his nose brushing your clit every so often and sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

It’s good, so fucking good, Jeongin’s always known how to push your limits in a way that has you trembling and craving more.

“Right there,” you gasp, your thighs clenching as you shake in his hold, your peak reaching faster than you expected it to. “Fuck. Fuck.”

Jeongin flattens his tongue and begins lapping at you pathetically, bringing a hand up to start pumping two fingers in and out of you at just the right angle. You cum all over his fingers, hot white flashes clouding your vision as your hips stutter, his left arm keeping you firm against the door. He lets you ride it out, sucks lazily at your clit until you’re jerking with every touch of his mouth to your core, too sensitive for him to continue.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before standing up, hair completely ruined and pupils blown wide with desire. He leans in to kiss you, more gentle this time, and he laughs into your mouth when you all but melt into his arms and he has to tighten his grip to hold you up. You moan when he tilts your head back and licks your bottom lip, to which you open for him, and he kisses your own arousal into your mouth.

“Think you can keep going?” He asks.

You don’t answer, just snake your hand in between your bodies and cup him through his sweats. He’s hard, practically straining against his underwear.

“Your turn.” You whisper, walking him backwards until the backs of his knees hit the couch and he falls on to it. He spreads his legs wide, watches with heavy eyelids as you stand before him and remove your shirt, leaving yourself fully exposed for him to see.

“God you are…” he trails off when you move towards him and climb onto his lap, grinding your hips down against him and no doubt leaving a wet spot on the outside of his sweats, “…fuck.” He groans, throwing his head back as he presses his thumbs into your hips to help you press down harder.

“I’m what?” You ask when you begin trailing kisses down his jaw, loving the way his stubble scratches against your lips. You suck at the spot just below his ear, still grinding against him.

“Everything I’ve ever fucking dreamed of.” He sighs.

You pull back until your noses are barely brushing and stare into his eyes for a moment. “What?” he asks as he starts rubbing circles into your hip bone with his thumb.

“Nothing I just…” you trail off, eyes still searching his as he stares back at you with an overwhelming amount of adoration.

“…I just really want to suck your dick right now.”

Jeongin barks out a laugh, loud and punctuated, before his head falls forward onto your shoulder and the remaining giggles are nothing but choppy breaths that ghost your nipples.

“What?” You laugh, hitting his shoulder. “I’m serious!”

He picks his head back up to look at you, eyes disappearing into the smile that’s on his face, and leans forward to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “I know, I know, I just—I love you, that’s all. I. Love. You.” He punctuates every word with a kiss, but you chase the last one until his lips are slotted against yours hungrily once again, his hands dropping to cup you from behind.

You inhale deeply before sliding off his lap, dropping to your knees on the floor in front of him. Jeongin lifts his hips just enough for you to help him slide his sweats and underwear off in one fluid motion and then yanks his sweatshirt over his head, leaving him fully naked and sinking back into the couch cushions. With his legs spread wide, cock hard and swollen pink against his stomach, messy hair and wide eyes, you think about just how lucky you are to call him yours, to be able to have him in every way possible.

Without wasting too much time, you rest your hands on his thighs and lick along the underside of him, tracing the vein there with your tongue and then sucking off the precum at the tip. “Shiiiiit,” Jeongin moans, throwing his head back.

You grab at the base of his cock and take him fully without warning, sinking down until he hits the back of your throat. He’s big enough that he fills your mouth completely, spit dribbling out of the sides as you work the bottom half of him with your hand, moving in time with your lips as you bob your head up and down.

“Holy fuck, shit, fuck,” the words tumble from his lips as he keeps a steady hand on the back of your head. You look up at him, a single tear spilling from the corner of your eye. He watches with parted lips for a second before pulling you off of him, a string connected to where spit is pooling on your chin.

“I am not,” he says, out of breath, “Cumming unless I’ve got you around my cock.”

You smile as you scramble up and onto his lap, planting your legs on either side of him. He raises an eyebrow in question, “Aren’t your legs tired?”

“Not for you they’re not,” you say as you reach behind, your hand using your leftover spit to pump him a few times. “Now shut up.”

Jeongin laughs and puts both hands behind his head, arms on full display as he leans back, “Yes ma’am.”

The moans you both let out the minute you sink down on him is so pornographic you’re almost embarrassed. If his neighbors didn’t already know what you were doing, then they definitely do now. Jeongin’s shoulders are firm where you anchor yourself to him, using his body as leverage while you ride him to high hell.

“Jesus Christ,” he gasps, his hands finding your breasts immediately. Sometimes you forget how big Jeongin’s hands are, both of them cupping you completely, only your nipples peeking out between his fingers as he kneads your chest.

“Bet you liked knowing how wet I was for you while I was talking to Hyunjin, huh?”

Jeongin won’t admit it, but he loves it when you talk to him like this during sex. He likes to feel in control, likes to have his way with you, but on the flip side he loves when you take initiative too. You can feel him twitch inside you at your words, his hips jerking upwards to meet your movements.

“You liked knowing you were in control, that you could make me cum at any second and I’d have to hide it, maybe squeeze my legs to stop myself. And the poor guy, he wouldn’t have a clue. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if I started whimpering and shaking, would he? And it would all be because of you.”

Jeongin responds by bringing a hand down on your ass with a loud smack, your body jolting forward into him from the force. It only spurs you further, your knees on fire from exertion.

You can feel the mark blooming, a big red handprint sure to be visible by the time you wake up tomorrow morning. Part of you wants to get it tattooed there, to have a permanent reminder of Jeongin on your body, to always know what it feels like to be wholly and unconditionally his.

“God you’re so fucking nasty,” he all but growls into your ear, his mouth hot as he connects his lips with yours, tongue licking eagerly into your mouth. “Close.” He grunts.

Jeongin sees stars when you lean back and prop yourself up on his knees, planting your heels into the couch on either side of him so you can fuck yourself onto his cock at a better angle. He brings his thumb to your clit, rubbing mercilessly while he bucks his hips up to meet your movements halfway.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna—”

“Jeongin—!”

The sensation of you clenching around him as you cum makes Jeongin’s own release follow shortly after, both of you moaning and swearing as you ride it out together. He lets you fall into his chest, rubs a soothing hand up and down your back as you both attempt to calm your breathing and reel yourselves back to reality. His skin is sticky with a sheen of sweat, your own forehead damp and legs shaking.

Jeongin sighs and brings a hand up to tangle in your hair while his fingers massage your scalp. You pull back, staring at him in confusion.

“What?”

Jeongin blinks a few times before he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, “I think you’ve definitely ruined me for anyone else.”

Although he meant it in a sweet, endearing way, you narrow your eyes and poke a finger into his chest. “Why are you saying that as if ‘anyone else’ is even an option?”

He throws an arm over his face, “You know what I meant.”

“No, actually, I don’t think I do—”

“You literally just rode me into oblivion. I bought you vibrating panties just so I could—”

“—I can’t believe that after I just broke my knees for you that’s the first thing you say!”

Jeongin bursts into a fit of giggles when you dig your fingers into his ribs, squealing when he tosses you off of him and you roll on to the side of the couch. “Okay, okay! Let me make it up to you, just stay there.” He says before disappearing into the bathroom. When he reamerges, he’s got a wet washcloth, which he uses to wipe you down before kissing the pout off of your face.

Not long later, when you’re both showered and he’s got you draped across his lap in a pair of his sweats and one of his hoodies, Jeongin chances a tap on your shoulder.

“Hmm?” You hum sleepily.

“So, you never explicitly said it, but on a scale of one to ten…if you were to rate my gift…”

You huff out a laugh, turning so that you’re on your back in order to look at him. “Definitely a ten. Could do without the borderline public humiliation next time, though.”

Jeongin leans down to press a kiss to your lips, smiling when you wrap your arms around his head to hold him there for a while longer. “Noted. As long as you never say one of my friends’ names during sex ever again.”

“Why? You sounded like you liked it.”

“Shut up.” Jeongin groans, resting his forehead against yours. It has to be an uncomfortable position, his entire body hunched over at nearly a ninety degree angle to even reach you. “I was balls deep inside of you when it happened. Completely out of my mind. But then, when I was in the bathroom taking a piss five minutes ago I was like, what the fuck? So yeah. No public humiliation as long as I never have to hear Hyun—”

Jeongin’s phone vibrates a total of three times on the couch next to him, cutting him off. He eyes it for a moment, confused as to why anyone would even be messaging this late, and then laughs when he finally picks it up to read what was sent.

“Speak of the devil,” he scoffs before turning the screen towards you.

hyunjin

yo yang

sorry to bother

you think y/n could email me those notes now?

© all rights reserved. godslino 2024. please do not steal, translate, or re-upload.

[strwberri-milk]

I want to make a request for LnDs fanfic pls ♡

Im not sure if this is a kink or something so ill try to be specific.

Mc is a bit shy and inexperienced at sex but she want to try something new with her boyfriend (xavier and rafayel are my favs, if i need to choose), she wants to lead things and make him feel good (or shes a the top but the boyfriend still in control kind of telling her what he wants her to do), while they do it her boyfriend guide her with a lot of compliments about her and her "performance", and hes not shy to be lewd and be excited

ughhhhh i call this topping from the bottom LMAO i did this w kaeya a couple times iirc im too lazy to check my anthology LMAoo also i hope you mind that its not like. a fic fic bc i just have to be in a certain mood to write fics

Xavier won't tell it to your face but he thinks you look adorable like this. He loves the flushed expression on your face, the way you look like you're going to fall apart on his lap. You're so innocent it makes his mind spin, eyes unable to look away as you try to get him to tell you what he wants you to do.

You whine and whimper, not yet quite used to how much teasing Xavier actually wants to subject you to. He acts like he's innocent, hands teasing your body as he slowly grinds into you while you whine and complain about how mean he's being to you. When you start insisting that he let you take charge if he won't tell you what he wants he decides to lean back and watch to see what you do.

You struggle for a little, trying to figure out how to make him hit that spot inside of you that makes you see stars. His eyes watch you adoringly, hands snaking back to rest on your hips as he starts to tell you how to move on top of him. You're a little resistant at first, telling him again how you wanted to make him feel good.

He refuses to take no for an answer, gently telling you that he doesn't mind and doing this does make him feel good. Slowly, you find yourself listening to his instructions, bouncing and grinding on him at just the rhythm he's craving. You let go of all your reservations and his cock twitches in anticipation as your moans get louder.

His hands stay on your hips, guiding your pace. You're glad that he's not making you think anymore, mindlessly following his directions. Even the slightest suggestion he makes you take as an order, wanting nothing more than to do absolutely everything that he wants you to do.

Rafayel loves to tease you slightly about how despite how inexperienced you are, you want nothing more than to fuck yourself on him. His eyes always rake over your form needily, committing every curve of your body to memory. If it were up to him, he'd have you sitting on his cock with a sketchbook in hand to record it on paper.

You try to deal with how bratty he is by fucking it out of him but unfortunately for you, you haven't quite figured out how exactly to go about that. Rafayel won't expand either unless he's feeling particularly needy and impatient. That tends to happen so you're used to it when you feel him starting to fuck into you, biting back your moan to try and prevent him from getting the satisfaction of taking you by surprise.

He's a little mean about it too, bringing a hand to run over the most sensitive parts of your body. He loves to tease you, hissing slightly in the way that you clench around him as he continues to fuck into you. He teases you with his words, telling you that he knows you'll do anything for him and that it's awfully cute of you to try and pretend that you could be in charge. Truth be told he adores it when you get even warmer with embarrassment when he flusters you, telling you exactly what to do and rewarding you with a particularly deep thrust whenever you listen to him.

[charliemwrites]

How does kidnapper ghost reward good behavior from reader?? I am so curious/ LOVING this series thank you for it :)

Hi, thank you so much!!!

He has a similar philosophy to most zoo keepers. Treats and items are high value rewards!

You come out of hiding to greet him, even if you don’t say anything? He’s got a new book for you! You eat all your dinner? Dessert! You don’t bite him when he pets you? Well, the pets aren’t a reward on their own, don’t worry. You get a whole hour out in the yard!

You call him out pretty early on for trying to bribe you and he’s not ashamed to admit that he is. That said… youre not immune to him trying to get into your good graces when it’s… things you actually like????

Now of course, I bet you’re wondering about…. Spicy Rewards. The trick is, it’s something he won’t give unless you ask. It’s not a reward because it’s something you’re entitled to, just like food, water, blankets, clothes. It’s part of your “care.”

For him though… well. Certain things he does gets him certain… accesses. He brings you a pretty puzzle? You’ll sit in his lap while you do it, might even cockwarm him if it’s especially interesting.

A new, extra soft yarn? He’s allowed to eat you out for at least thirty minutes. Maybe more if you’re feeling generous.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: The Ending

The perfect last line will:

Immediately make the reader want to re-read the novel from the beginning

Hook the reader into reading your next novel

Leave your reader chewing on the last scene long after closing the book

Types of Endings

The Perfect Loop

This ending back to the beginning.

It can bring the reader back to the opening scene or first line, but provides added depth.

It requires planning and editing to craft both an ending and a beginning that feels easy and authentic, not forced or artificial.

The Surprise Ending

Completely switch up the story and take the reader by surprise.

Maybe a new detail is revealed or the narrator is proven unreliable.

It’s unexpected, but it should always make sense upon reexamination.

Remember this: All endings should be satisfying.

If you choose to twist the ending with a surprise, be sure that there’s plenty of foreshadowing spiced throughout your story.

The Moral of the Story

Sometimes, the last line should just spell out what you really want the reader to get from the story.

It doesn’t have to be in the preachy tone used in children’s fables, though.

It can be a realization of the narrator or protagonist.

The Cliffhanger

Sometimes, you don’t want to give away everything about the character. Perhaps you’re not even certain yourself.

Or you may have a sequel in mind, and there’s no sense in tidying up the lives of characters you’ll revisit in the future.

In these cases, rely on the trusty cliffhanger.

This ending feels like the close of a chapter, and gets the reader excited about the next story.

The best way to create a cliffhanger ending is to tidy up the main plot points you’ve introduced within the course of the novel, but let the reader know there’s still more to explore with these characters.

The “Happily Ever After”

Alternatively, we may call this one the “crystal ball”, because not all endings of this type are happy.

In this ending, you’ll explain what happens in the future.

Follow the eventual lives of the characters you’ve introduced.

Oftentimes, this type of ending occurs as the finale in a series.

A way to tie up loose ends without writing a new book.

Happily ever after endings can feel rushed, if you don’t write them correctly. Remember that each character’s story arc should be foreshadowed within the text.

Example: A prim and proper Southern belle who, in the epilogue, has run off and joined the travelling carnival doesn’t make much sense unless you’ve planted seeds along the way.

The Vagueness of It All

Some authors choose to provide a vague and murky ending.

This is the type of ending where things are left unsaid.

An ambiguous ending is often exasperating.

Readers oftentimes don’t want to take your story and come up with their own conclusion.

They want to know what you, the writer, think.

They want a chance to say goodbye to the characters.

By leaving important plot points up in the air, you rob the reader of a rewarding end.

Avoid this type of uncertain ending and rescue your readers from the agony of unanswered questions.

Edit With the Ending in Mind

When you first set off to write your novel, you probably have no idea where it’s headed.

You may know where you’d like to go, but the characters often take off in their own directions and instead of being the dictator, you become the record keeper.

So, how do you have the ending in mind when you don’t even know what the ending will be?

Easy. Take care of that with the editing process.

Editing is essential to writing because the first draft will always be just that—a first draft. It merely helps you blurt out the words and get everything down.

The second draft, and so on, helps you mould those words into something masterful and worthy of your reader’s time.

Once you start to edit your draft, start shaping it so that the ending seems inevitable from the beginning.

Remember: Inevitable, but not obvious.

Threaded throughout your novel should be a foreshadowing of the ending that’s only revealed in retrospect. While you don’t want the reader to predict the ending from the beginning (how boring is that?), you do want the reader to go back and look for clues to how this ending was always going to happen.

Examples of Great Last Lines

The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald:

“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”

This is one of the most praised last lines in all of literature.

In one sentence, it perfectly captures the mood and underlying theme of the novel.

It poetically describes the human struggle to improve one’s condition even when it’s only an illusion.

Nineteen Eighty-Four, George Orwell:

“He loved Big Brother.”

This heartbreaking end to a biting social commentary will likely leave the reader with feelings of hopelessness, but the truth is this ending was inevitable from the beginning:

The crushing tyranny of Big Brother leaves no survivors.

The House of the Spirits, Isabel Allende:

“Barrabas came to us by sea…”

What stands out about this last line is that it’s also the novel’s first line.

It brings the reader back full circle to the story’s beginning.

Even in its simplicity, this line carries much more weight than it did when the reader first began the novel, because the reader now has a deeper understanding of what this line means.

The Book Thief, Markus Zusak:

“I am haunted by humans.”

As narrator, Death offers this profound insight on humans.

What’s so astounding about this line is that most humans are afraid or haunted by death, but in an interesting twist, Death is actually scared of humans.

Write an ending that makes the heart ache and then ponder. Craft a line that echoes in your readers’ minds for a long while after. The last line is your elusive entrance into literary immortality.

Source

[yameoto]

Hey so you're just about the only person I feel decent asking this question, Would you happen to have any tips to make messages more...interesting? I find myself using the same adjectives, ending up in the same spot with different characters, etc, etc. And was just wondering if you had anything i could use to spice things up again.

don’t just “react” to the bot. be proactive! lead the scenario where you think is interesting, get out of the first location, and don’t be afraid to make it wild. roleplay as if you were actually roleplaying with an individual—thread context n backstory in there. the longer and more detailed Your message, the same for the bot.

your own imagination is important! if you’re struggling, it helps to build off the contextual world of the specific bot, and what makes sense.

i.e letting stepsister!quinn drag her poor innocent stepsister out after curfew to see a sleazy rock concert is a vastly different scenario than singlemom!quinn letting you meet her daughter for the first time. OR, these above two would be very different to any theboys!au bots, in which the world means inherent danger, such as using the soldier boy bot (brainwashing him, forcing him to nuke vought etc). BUT, frankly, you can do ALL those scenarios with ALL the bots. how willing you are to suspend your disbelief is the only limit here. quinn can be a merc in training if you wish, just as ben can be your pervy step!brother. woah. might make both bots.

nor do you have to take the bot greeting as holy grail. you can start off the same bot with an entirely new scenario. bots are adaptable! and they’ll follow the new input. i’m guilty of this when i’m too lazy to make a new bot for a character but i still want to rp a different scenario.

basically, bots are NOT fixed. everything can be soft-rewritten by YOUR messages. i tend to get bots out of their starting location as fast as possible.

same goes for YOU! {{user}}. you can be anyone you want to be. you could be a pop star. an olympic gymnast. a member of the mafia. you can bring in so much of your own angst or backstory and thread it into your responses, and lead it in ways that play off your backstory.

i can’t help you with vocabulary unfortunately! this is something that comes with a lot of reading/writing. unless you want a list of synonyms you rote-learn with flashcards. if it’s any comfort to you, nobody is judging you on how many times you use the same words! just be wary the bot may copy your prose and end up very repetitive.

+ for smut, if you’re searching for new scenarios. whatever you find hot.

examples (with explanation) below

doctor!quinn.

one; is almost purely reactionary, however it has a bit of context that alludes to the greater history of the role-play.

two; reactionary, with context threaded through. bot reads subtext just as people do, and can pick it up on the idea 1. quinn/user have been working together for a long time, and that there is familiarity/routine/casual intimacy in their relationship.

three; split. mainly background, though the second paragraph is the actual reaction/response (and what most people would ONLY write!) the first paragraph gives a heapload of info to the bot that it can use to inform their interactions.

fair warning! you don’t need to write as much as me, i tend to get carried away when i actually do roleplay because else i get terribly bored repeating scenarios or not exercising a little bit of effort. i will say, however, it makes for much more rewarding roleplays.

hope this helped <3

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

What do you think about Sabrina? Are you like her, dislike her or neutral?

I don't have strong feelings about Sabrina beyond a general distaste for her "redemption." Sabrina was played as way too much of a willing bully for me to absolve her of her past actions without some serious apologizing on her part. Just look at these matching smirks from the Derision flashback!

[Image Description: Chloe and Sabrina smirking evilly while plotting to hurt Marinette]

That was the episode that blamed Chloe for all of Marinette's problems while showing Sabrina doing all the actual dirty work, which is very much a running theme in this show. Most of the things that Chloe gets blamed for should see at least part of the blame going to Sabrina, too, but that's not what we get in canon. Sabrina spends multiple seasons helping Chloe torment people only to be welcomed on to team Miraculous before she even reaches her "redemption" moment (see: Penalteam). Now that Sabrina has done her one good dead, she's redeemed and is a permanent holder as a reward for that single good act, I guess?

The whole thing makes me deeply uncomfortable when I compare it to the way that the show handled Chloe. I only bring that up because, when it comes to Sabrina, I can't avoid thinking or talking about the Chloe thing because you never see Sabrina without Chloe! They're a matching set! They even have similar base stories with Chloe's parents influencing her behavior via their abuse and encouragement just like Chloe influenced Sabrina (which could have been a great discussion about abuse leading to abuse if this element of their writing had been even remotely intentional). Redeeming one and not the other invites you to make the comparison and it's unfortunately a comparison that's deeply lacking on multiple fronts.

If Chloè didn't earn a redemption - and I really don't think that she did, her redemption never truly stated - then neither did Sabrina. A sob story doesn't undo the harm that you've caused. A redemption doesn't even undo the harm! You can fully "redeem" yourself and still be rejected by those you hurt because your victims don't owe you a relationship. (Side note, this is where Chloe and Sabrina fall for me. In the early seasons, you could redeem them onto the team. Now? The writers took these two way too far to the point where they feel like totally different characters and even break early canon episodes because Marinette's treatment of them doesn't match who they supposedly always were.)

If they really wanted to redeem Sabrina, then they needed to highlight what makes her story different from Chloe's. As is, it feels massively hypocritical to welcome Sabrina onto the team after all that she's done to cause harm and after how little she's done to right that harm. At best, canon Sabrina should have just gone off to a new school to get a fresh start without Chloe. At worst, she should have become someone else's minion. Either way, she should not be treated as one of the "good guys."

Outside of that mess, Sabrina is just your standard minion character who gets minimal development, so it's hard for me to have a strong opinion on her. I think she's used well in the first few seasons, but she's still one of the characters that I'd cut or at least cut back on if I had my way with canon simply because she's not really necessary for the show to work and the cast needs to be cut down significantly. It's not that I hate her or anything like that. I just don't see why Chloe needed a minion or what Sabrina adds that another character can't.

For example, you could give Sabrina a solid character arc around developing healthy friendships and letting go of Chloe's influence, but why give that to her when you could give it to Mr. I've-never-really-had-friends-before-and-I-really-should-have-a-character-arc-around-that who also happens to have grown up with Chloe as his only friend? (That's Adrien by the way. Why go with Sabrina when you've got him unless you're using Sabrina to contrast Adrien in some way?)

[thatswhywelovegermany]

Die Moosweiblein

Moss Women

Moss Women are female forest spirits from German legend. They belong to the poor souls.

Moos Women occur in Saxony, Thuringia, on the Saale, in Orlagau, in the Harz mountain, in the Vogtland, in Upper Palatinate, in the Bavarian Forest, in Franconia and Upper Franconia, in the Bohemian Forest, around Warnsdorf in the northern Czech Republic, in the Giant Mountains and in Westphalia.

Depending on the region, Moss Women have a different appearance. Most often, they are as short as a three to five year old child. They have an ugly appearance, often entirely covered in moss, and are hunchbacked. They appear to be very old with grey, wrinkled faces abd blackened, blind eyes. They have long black or white unkempt hair. Their voices are high-pitched and squeaky. They are always barefoot. They often carry brushwood in a pannier on their back or in their apron. They use a walking stick to support their unsteady gait.

Moss Women are living in the forest, where they are dwelling in underground caves or hollow trees. They are sleeping in beds from moss. They are living in large families and can have children from Wood Kobolds or humans. They like to bake delicious cake, and when they do, mist is coming out of the forest. When politely asked for, they serve the cake also to humans.

Moss women know herbs and are skilled at both sending and healing illnesses. If people mock them, they send them ailments. This can happen in a variety of ways. They can squeeze people so hard that they become sick and miserable, and they can sit on them so that they become lame. They can also breathe on them, which causes people to get bumps or ulcers on their faces. Moss women also have knowledge of the future.

Moss women reward people by giving them wood shavings or leaves that turn into gold. They also give balls of yarn that never end unless you deliberately look for their end, or webs and knitted items that bring luck and blessings into the house. The moss women also show their gratitude with well-intentioned advice and warnings. They also look after children in the forest, lead people out of the forest at night without getting lost, or help them find deer and roe deer antlers.

On the other hand, moss women steal bread and dumplings. They cannot tolerate caraway bread, however, which is why they cry out: caraway bread, our death. The same goes for "piped" bread, i.e. bread into which the tip of your finger has been pressed. They cannot touch counted baked goods either. On the other hand, the moss women rightfully own some of the hay cuttings and the water that drops on the rim of the vessel when scooped out, as well as some of the linseed, flax stalks, ears of grain and tree fruit, as well as the flour that sticks to the frame of the bucket and any leftover bread crumbs. Moss women allow people to gather wood in the forest if they first receive a piece of bread or a dumpling as a gift

Sometimes moss women help people with deeds and advice. They visit people's houses and do various jobs, for example they spin flax and wool at night, they scrub, feed, milk, mow, help with haymaking and harvesting. If moss women receive food from shepherds, they bless their cows, which then produce more milk. For craftsmen, they protect their tools from thieves. As household spirits, moss women bring luck and blessings, but also require to receive food offerings in return. They detest people's cursing and vices. They love silence, hate quarrels and curses, and are driven away by them, just as they disappear never to be seen again if they are given new clothes. Whenever bast is peeled from a tree, a Moosweiblein must die.

On the river Saale, the Buschgroßmutter (bush grandmother) is known as the queen of the moss women. Strictly speaking, the bush grandmother is the mother of the moss women (here: moss girls), with whom she travels around the country, usually in a small cart. She has messy hair and a fixed gaze. The bush grandmother is also a bogeyman. The bush grandmother also appears in Silesia, where she is called Pusch-Grohla.

[thevoidscreams]

Something with Russ.

Here's the setting (pre heresy): A female serf that usually tends to the general inhabitants of the main council fortress on ultramar, now accidentally becomes a play thing for a drunken Russ. Today was a special occasion as for seven of the primarchs had gathered for an important meeting with Guilliman, afterwards, a large banquet was held with many of the Primarch's serfs seemingly all working together to satisfy their Lords. Russ, having brought his own drink, had over done it as usual and eyes one serf. She's working hard yet trying harder to tend many of the somewhat distracted patrons of the imperium. The tipsy wolf king seems to be entertained enough by her efforts, picks her up to disappear with her for the afternoon. The whole experience is completely unheard of yet exciting for the serf, however there is one thing she didn't expect from Russ, his more feral yet playful side.

Day 18

Pairing: Leman Russ x reader

Warnings: possible power imbalance, abduction (lightly), knotting, biting

Russ's tongue ran over his lips, licking away the mjord that'd been left behind after his last sip.

Such a spry little thing you were. The wolf king had seen you all day, since before the meeting even. Working. 

Haven't you heard of a break? Probably not if you were the tax man's serf.

You were pretty, maybe a bit small but for Russ. Unless he wanted an ogryn he'd have to make do with his woman being a bit smaller. Besides, little women were quicker and ran so prettily. Like little rabbits running away from the big bad wolf. The hunt was always so much fun and the reward when he caught them was so very sweet.

He downed the rest of his drink, coming to his feet and belching. It made his warriors roar with laughter and he smiled at them, showing his teeth.

You hadn’t noticed still working away, filling glasses, bringing plates, mopping spills, the works.

“My wolves. I have eaten my fill of meat with you. I have drunk my fill of Mjord with you. And I've had my fill of stories with you. Unfortunately this next appetite is not one I can satisfy with your company.” His smile broadened and he snatched you up by the waist as you tried to skitter past.

His astartes hooted and hollered, raising mugs or thudding them on tables as they laughed and egged their primarch on.

“New pups for the pack eh!?” One shouted and his brothers slapped his back.

Some of them howled, like actual wolves.

You were dumbfounded as Russ carried you off to the room that his brother had prepared for him.

He was already hot under the collar and wanted to satisfy this burning need with a woman who he found enjoyable to look at.

“Be gentle brother.” Vulkan called after him and the other primarchs looked worried.

‘Should I be worried?’ 

Was the first cohesive thought you'd had since the primarch scooped you up into his arms.

“Do not worry little rabbit. I only bite for fun.”

Well, that answered that. But your heart did beat with fear at being grabbed up by the handsome wolf king. In fact you were rather excited, having stolen glances at him all day, thinking about how nice those big arms must feel wrapped around me.

The room prepared for him had fur pelts on the bed. And a fire crackled in the fireplace, chasing off the chill of the evening.

He set you down. His eyes were drinking in every part of you.

“Disrobe.”

You sprang to obey his command.

“Eager? That's good. I've been watching you all day. I'd hate to have to go and find another rabbit to satisfy my needs.”

Your brain ran that information and you felt a sudden bit of comfort. He wouldn't have forced you? 

No he may be a wolf, but he was also a man. And an honorable one from what you knew.

His own hands began to peel away the firs covering him, revealing light armor that he pulled off as easily as cloth.

His upper body was marred with scars from many battles.

Gingerly your fingers reached for one.

He stopped your hand before you could, looking at you.

He seemed to understand without asking as soon as he followed the line of your sight.

He guided your hand to a set of three parallel scars along his chest. 

“A bear got a lucky swipe on me here.” He explained, then moved your fingers to touch another. “A sword, during a spar with my brother.” And then another. “I took an orks bolt here.”

“You have so many.”

“I am a warrior, I fight and I win. Every one of these scars is a victory, proof that I survived.”

You felt oddly jealous. Such a grand and noble life, Russ was truly something to be admired.

He began to remove his pants and I dropped my dress.

He stooped and looked at me in only my undergarments.

“I see I indeed picked well.” His hands pulled you close, resting on your hips as he knelt and pressed his lips to your tender neck.

You moaned softly as he nibbled at your skin, hard enough to leave a mark gently enough that he didn't break skin.

You felt compelled by the action, leaning forward you sank her own teeth into the spot where his neck met his shoulder.

His hands tightened on your hips and he let out a sound somewhat between a snarl and a moan.

And suddenly you were on your back underneath him.

His cock was hard and his eyes shone above you in the fire light.

His lips caressed the shell of your ear. “You'd better run, little rabbit.”

He growled.

Your body responded in your stead, shooting out from under him with speed you didn't know you possessed. Running blindingly as you darted away from him in the big room.

His bulk came barreling down on you capturing you in his massive clawed hands, you back pressed to his and your front pressed to the floor.

You expected something but it wasn't him, letting you go. You body doing its old trick of shooting off as he ran you down.

Your heart beat so fast in his chest.

He took you by the hips, grinding his cock against your wet hole through the thin fabric protecting between you.

His hands slackened, you ran.

It was a game, but it got so real as Russ shot after you again with an excited growl.

He gave you a nip on your thigh, causing you to cry out in shock and pain. He immediately reeled back and took you gently into his arms.

Looking over the mark he’d left behind. “My apologies little rabbit. I got ahead of myself. I am sorry.” He kissed the spot. It left a warm feeling in your belly as he kissed me there, even warmed then you had already been.

He continued to kiss until he got to the apex of you. His tongue lapped over the damp spot between your legs.

“So very ready for me. Like a good rabbit.” His teeth sunk into the fabric, pulling it away from your body.

He inhaled deeply, his cock twitching. “Such a beautiful thing, a woman who desires my cock and is as eager as you.”

The heat of his tongue collecting your juices was otherworldly. “Lord Russ.” You groaned and he chuckled.

“I am going to put my cock in you little rabbit. You might as well call me Leman. It is easier to scream than Lord Russ.”

He buried his face between your legs, eating like a man starved, his tongue delving to depts you didn’t know were there. And this was all to prepare you for the mass of throbbing flesh between his legs.

Your fingers locked in his hair and held him close, at some point your head had fallen back to the floor and your voice echoed in the expansive room.

Russ chuckled and slipped a finger into you as he worked your clit with his tongue.

That was all you could take, cumming all over his hand and mouth.

“That’s a good girl, what a good rabbit.” He licked his hand clean and kissed his way up your body.

His cock nudged your lower lips, catching as he pushed the head in, stretching you further.

“Does my rabbit want some more? Does she want to be devoured by her wolf?”

“Yes~!”

Leman growled and forced several inches in, your back arched under him and your hands flew to his tough skin. Nails leaving little crescents in his skin.

“Marking me for yourself, little rabbit?” 

Russ grunted as he felt the pressure.

“Well…” you began, cheeks read and eyes half lidded, “if you're going to be as good a lay as I believe you'll be, then I might just have to start fighting other ladies to keep you.”

It was meant as a jest but something about it very much stuck with Russ and he wasn't sure why.

Outwardly he laughed, but inside he was intrigued.

“That would be quite the sight. Perhaps I should take you away as my own and train you.”

His cock filled you completely and Russ wasted no time in taking his pleasure, which subsequently gave you just as much if not more.

You writhed under him, his weight pinning you down as he rutted into your inviting heat.

“So good.” He growled, his fangs gleamed in the light of the fire as he grinned. “And what does my rabbit have to say for herself?”

Your brain felt as if he’d fucked every bit of sense from it. Your mouth worked but hardly an intelligible sound came out.

“Nothing to say little rabbit?” he panted “Or is your mind too full of pleasure from my cock for your mouth to form words?”

You stopped trying to reply and simply nodded.

It gave him no end of amusement.

The heat building in your body was about ready to boil over. Leman noticed and kept his pace content to drive you to the edge as many times as he could before he himself came. He took your hands and nibbled the soft skin of your wrist. 

It was sure to leave marks as well. The thought drove you over the edge and you came, crying out for him.  He quietly hummed his words of approval in your ear before leaving down to kiss and bite your neck. 

He'd steadily begun leaving the evidence of his claim on you the bruises and bite marks the proof that he'd been there. 

And whether he took you or not there would be no denying what had transpired between the both of you. 

“Leman~♡” You whined as you grew more sensitive, his ceaseless rutting giving you another climax.

It had driven him over as well and he pushed into you fully with a growl. His knot swelling to keep the seed he was spilling into you from escaping.

Leman huffed in satisfaction,holding you close as he felt your body expand slightly to accommodate the sheer amount. 

“Such a good rabbit, taking her wolf's cum so eagerly.”

You nodded against his shoulder, fingers grazing over scars, touching them lovingly. 

“Th-thank you.”

Moving gave you a shock. 

“Huh?”

“Oh, I did not tell you, I should have. We will be together like this for a while.”

“What happened?” You asked confused.

“I have knotted you. It is.. one of my strange abilities as a son of the emperor.”

His fingers played over your hair soothing you. 

As Leman lifted you and carried you to the bed he was sure that he would indeed take you. His brother wouldn't miss just one serf.

Laying on the bed he held you close as his cock settled and his knot began to decrease in size slowly. 

As his hand ran over your hips he found it a pleasant sensation. 

His hearts beat with a strange quickness and he found himself excited.

He held you, fingers brushing through your hair till you were fast asleep.

After an hour he slipped out of your warm clutch and slipped from the bed with surprising grace.

He laid a blanket over your form and pulled his pants on. 

Roboute hadn't been expecting his brother but welcomed him nonetheless. 

“I am almost done with these reports, did you have a good time?”

“Yes brother, I did.”

“Then what draws you away from your sons at this hour?”

“I wish to take the serf with me.”

Roboute sighed as he steepled his fingers and looked at Russ.

“I assume you mean the one you've been scoping out since your arrival several days ago?”

“Yes, her. My rune priest had assured me that it is a good match. That she will carry my sons and daughters well.”

Roboute looked at his brother, leaving forward on his desk. 

“Has she consented to this?”

“Oh,” Russ chuckled and grinned wide, “she had consented to many things this night. You should have seen her taking my-”

Guilliman stopped him with a hand. 

“Once the papers are filed and her consent given in front of a witness, you may have her.”

Russ whooped and left the office, Guilliman knew there was little point fighting him over it. 

Leman pulled you into his chest, keeping you close in his arms. Soon, he assured himself. Soon, you'd be all his. He kissed the top of your sleeping head and fell into a deep slumber himself.