#unsure if will continue but like the idea and wanted to get it down

[loveanddeepthroat]

can i mc reader and sylus where mc ends up in hospital after a mission gone wrong and sylus shows up but she wants him to leave in case someone sees him there

Careless

Pairing - Sylus x f!MC

Summary - You landed yourself in the hospital overnight after a mix up at HQ had you fighting too many Wanderer’s alone. You’re already bummed about being stuck at Akso, so the feeling of dread when Sylus turns up unexpectedly only adds to your unease.

Word Count - 2.3k

Warnings - Set in a hospital. Angst and fluff.

The incessant beeping of medical machinery echoing throughout the ward was getting to your sore head.

Akso Hospital was rammed full of casualties and emergencies, seeing as it was a Friday night. You felt a bit out of place amongst the partygoers and adventurous folk who had taken their fun a little too far.

In your opinion, you didn’t really need to be here. The eggplant coloured bruise on the right side of your forehead definitely looked a lot worse than it felt, but the doctors weren’t buying your claims that you weren’t in any pain.

Likely because you were wincing when you’d said it.

A night under their watch was what the doctor ordered, and it wasn’t up for discussion. You were just relieved that Doctor Zayne was working away for a week. He’d have checked you in indefinitely and scheduled an hour long lecture on why you needed to be more careful.

A mix up at HQ had the system only requesting that you attend a spontaneous Wanderer attack in Linkon Library. Just one had been reported, but seven of the ruthless bastards had accosted you the minute you stepped foot in the evacuated building.

Confident that you could handle them, you didn’t bother calling in for more Hunters. As it turned out, that confidence was misplaced, and the last thing you remembered before blacking out was a loud screeching sound. You had no idea what it was, but it hadn’t been important in your unconscious state.

When you eventually awoke in the hospital, Jenna had been hanging over you, immediately giving you the third degree for continuing alone. You should’ve known that the alert for only your assistance had been a mistake in the system, and you should’ve insisted that someone accompany you no matter what it had said.

She made sure to drill that into your head more than once.

Admittedly, you were glad to see the back of her once she had finally left. Your head was starting to throb with the volume of her voice, and all you wanted was the bliss of being unconscious again.

It was late now, and you were exhausted. Sleep was looking to be impossible tonight, however. There were several other patients on the same ward, all admitted with varying ailments. The injured man opposite you had done nothing but stare coldly from the moment he was wheeled in in a full leg cast.

You tried to speak to him. You offered him a polite smile, which was met with a sneer. Whatever his problem with you was, it was beginning to get on your nerves.

You just wanted to go home.

“Miss,” a softly spoken nurse greeted as she approached your bed. “There’s a visitor here to see you.”

You frowned, wondering if you heard her correctly over the hustle and bustle of the ward. It was well past visiting hours, and you couldn’t think of anyone other than your colleagues who knew that you were even at the hospital.

The man with the broken leg frowned, too. “What? She gets special treatment because she’s a so-called hero? I should get visiting rights, too!”

“Would you like me to let him in?” The nurse asked, ignoring the grumbling patient.

Him. That didn’t exactly narrow things down.

“Uhh,” you faltered, a little unsure. You didn’t want to cause any issues with the other patients. “Are you sure?”

The nurse nodded and smiled, though it looked a bit forced. It almost seemed like she was desperate for you to say yes to your mystery visitor.

“Okay,” you finally agreed. 

The look of relief on her face was not lost on you. She quickly hurried away to retrieve whoever came to see you, leaving you to endure the displeasure from the man opposite.

“I used to be a mailman, you know? If it weren’t for me, people wouldn’t have had their mail. Do I get special treatment, though? No, of course not. You Hunters get all the glory and adoration. And I’ll tell you another thing—”

“You’ve told her plenty.”

Prominent footsteps sounded from the doorway, the atmosphere immediately becoming heavy and tense. You almost choked on absolutely nothing at the sight of him.

Sylus.

Your eyes flared, heart hammering against your ribcage like a drum. He couldn’t be here. The risk was far too great.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” the grumpy man sneered back, looking him up and down, “…vampire.”

It was a colourful insult, and one that made your unwelcome companion chuckle. “If you’ll excuse us,” he began, the swirling red vines of his Evol appearing to drag the man’s cubicle curtain to a close at a leisurely pace. “Mailman.”

To your relief, there was no backlash from the irritated patient across the room. Although that did make you wonder if he wasn’t retaliating by his own choice, or if Sylus had silenced him somehow. The latter wouldn’t have surprised you.

“What on earth are you doing here?!” you hissed quietly. “You can’t be here, Sylus.”

Crimson eyes didn’t meet yours, his cold gaze set only on the bandages around your head as he approached your bedside, closing your curtain behind him. He didn’t quite look like himself. His hands were balled into fists at his sides, green and blue veins prominently making an appearance.

“I’ll think twice before taking advice from a woman who was very recently knocked unconscious amidst a 7v1 Wanderer fight,” he rebuked monotonously. 

You scoffed. “I’m fine, if that’s why you came. Feel free to go back to—”

“Fine?” His face quickly turned from emotionless to severely unamused as he cut you off sharply. “That’s quite the contradiction, sweetie.”

You raised an eyebrow barely high enough for him to see your questioning expression. The gesture hurt, which wasn’t helping your case. “To what?”

He dragged a plastic chair towards your bed before sitting down, his ankles crossed in front of him. You couldn’t really read his demeanour. He almost seemed cross with you.

“To what I saw from Mephisto,” he responded tightly.

Mephisto. 

That explained the screeching you heard before you slipped into unconsciousness. “And what exactly was Mephisto doing there?”

Sylus merely shrugged, offering nothing verbal in response. The lackadaisy gesture did nothing but piss you off. You’ve told him countless times to stop sending Mephisto out to keep tabs on you, and each time it seemed to fall on deaf ears. 

He clearly was not pleased with you, but you weren’t stupid. He was here because you had concerned him. Sylus was a busy man, especially at this time of night. He wouldn’t have come just to berate you with words that could’ve been put into a text message.

Not that you knew where your phone was.

The atmosphere between you both fell into silence, only the sounds of medical machinery filling in the lack of conversation. You didn’t really know what to say to him, and he wasn’t typically the type to lose his words. But it was clear to see that he didn’t know what to say, either.

After a long moment, he cleared his throat, his hands flexing in his lap. “I told you those guns of yours were pathetic.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my guns,” you mumbled with a roll of your eyes.

“So it’s a skill issue?”

You glared harshly at him, flinching noticeably as you did. You weren’t sure what was bothering you more, the pain in your head or the mood that Sylus was so clearly in. 

His features softened ever so slightly as he recognised your pain. Still, that didn’t stop him from being an asshole. “It’s one or the other, kitten.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. If there was one thing you didn’t want Sylus to think of you as, it was weak. You weren’t sure why you cared so much, but you did.

“I suppose my guns are a little on the outdated side,” you murmured begrudgingly.

He smirked, his hands finally relaxing a little in his lap. The awkward atmosphere was slowly fading, which you were grateful for. You didn’t want to pry into his mind and make things worse again.

You buried your head a little further into the pillow beneath your sore head, letting your eyes fall shut for a moment. Fatigue was starting to settle in your body, almost dragging you into a swift sleep before your chilly hand was captured in a warm embrace.

Your eyes shot open again, finding Sylus out of his seat and leaning over you. His eyes were a bit wider than usual. “Have they checked you for a concussion?” 

“Yeah,” you told him gently. The close proximity had you flustered. “I’m a little concussed, but I’m allowed to sleep.”

His brows drew together slightly as he studied you. You’ve both had these strange little moments before, when his mask slips away just enough to see his true feelings.

“I’ll be fine,” you whispered in reassurance. “You should go, Sylus.”

He shook his head, his hand tightening slightly over yours. It looked like an effort, but he managed to smirk at you again. “Trying to get rid of me already?”

Beneath that facade of humour, he was a little bit wounded. You wouldn’t point it out, but you could see it. He was a stubborn bastard who wasn’t going to let you push him away, but he also didn’t like that you were trying to push him away.

It wasn’t as if you wanted him to go. Your relationship with him was…complicated.

Complicated in the sense that you weren’t in a relationship, but he had a habit of establishing a level of intimacy between you both that you weren’t blind to. Good morning and goodnight texts, constant invites to events as his plus one with no other reason than to be beside him, and random gifts left on your doorstep so often that your elderly neighbour recently asked if you were ‘getting some.’

A relationship with him would be very difficult to maintain. You both come from entirely different worlds that just could not merge. No matter how much you desired him, you had to maintain your composure.

“I’m not trying to get rid of you,” you sighed. “I just don’t like how careless you’re being by showing up here. Some people do worry, you know.”

He slowly lowered his loom over you so that his nose was just inches away from yours. You couldn’t help but swallow, feeling his steady breath on your lips as he spoke. It was intimidating and yet so intimate that you didn’t know whether to cower or cut him off with a kiss you never knew you wanted. 

“You don’t think I’m worried about you?” he drawled in a rather serious manner.

“That’s not what I—”

“Do you not realise how it looked through Mephisto’s eyes when you were walloped a great distance across a library and crumpled to the floor like a lifeless body.” His teeth were gritted in his mouth, the word ‘body’ coming out tightly like his tongue was rejecting the word. “You’re not the only person who is worried here. Do not brand me incapable of such feelings.”

Your mouth went a little dry, tears threatening to invade your eyes. It wasn’t that you didn’t believe in his worry, and you hadn’t meant for it to come across that way.

“I just don’t want you to risk your freedom for me,” you whispered shakily.

He lifted his hand from where it was holding him up beside your free hand, carefully moving some strands of your hair that had fallen over your bandages. 

“I’d risk it all for you.”

He had never said such a thing to you in all the time you’d been acquainted. You knew that he would carry out every need you might have of him. You knew that he would listen to you sit and ramble on and on about anything, never interrupting you. You knew that he cared about you.

But you were still in the dark when it came to the extent of that care.

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” he murmured.

Thankfully, you caught yourself before you were about to shake your sore head. “Just…trying to figure you out.”

A smile slowly spread across his lips. A real smile. It was enough to make your heart flutter, embarrassingly made noticeable by the heart rate monitor you were hooked up to.

“It would require a lot of brainpower to do that, sweetie. Maybe lose the concussion first,” he said in his typically sarcastic tone.

You managed your own small smile, which blossomed into a chuckle. This was the side of Sylus that had you coming back to him whenever he asked for your company.

His real side.

He kept his hand atop your head, avoiding the bandages completely. His thumb swiped gently over the parting of your hair, pulling you off to sleep again. You were pretty sure that he was doing it on purpose to force you into rest, but you were in no position to argue with him. You were officially exhausted.

“Would you really like me to leave, kitten?” he asked in a soft whisper as your eyes fluttered.

The very thought of him leaving made you a little upset. Despite your attempts at convincing the doctors you were fine, you damn well were not. You needed his comfort, and he needed to know that you were safe and on the road to a speedy recovery.

“No,” you whispered, succumbing to the soothing strokes on your scalp.

A soft brush of his lips was the last thing you felt before you finally drifted off, feeling secure enough to do so with his company.

“Good,” he’d whispered back before you fully clocked out. “I’ll always be careless so long as I get to you.”

A/N - Long time no fic post. I apologise, life has been crazy. I haven’t proof read this cause honestly I’m just too tired so I’ll read over it in the morning and edit any mistakes. Hope you’re all doing well! 🖤

[harrysfolklore]

can we have a little honorary wag blurb where she’s freaking out about meeting charles’s entire friend group but when she does , she gets along with them really well and baby chiara ADORES her 🥹

thank you for sending this request, i really missed writing about these babiesss 🥺🥺 i hope you like thisss

READ THE HONORARY WAG HERE

A few weeks had passed since Kika and Pierre’s wedding, and life had settled into a pleasant routine for you and Charles. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and you were sprawled on the couch in Charles’ living room, a cozy blanket wrapped around you as you watched TV.

Charles was in the kitchen, making coffee. You could hear him humming to himself, a soft, contented sound that made you smile. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind, but you were finally finding your rhythm together, and it felt perfect.

Being his girlfriend felt perfect.

“Do you want anything with your coffee, mon coeur?” Charles called out, his voice carrying into the living room.

“Just some cookies, if we have any,” you replied, stretching out and snuggling deeper into the blanket.

Charles appeared a few minutes later, balancing two mugs of coffee and a plate of cookies. He handed you your mug and placed the plate on the coffee table before sitting down beside you.

“Thanks,” you said, taking a sip of the coffee. It was perfect, just the way you liked it.

Charles smiled and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “I could get used to this,” he said, his voice soft and full of warmth.

You leaned into him, feeling a sense of contentment. “Me too. It’s nice to have some time to just relax and be together.”

He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering for a moment. “So, I've bee thinking."

You turned to look at him, curiosity piqued by his tone. "Oh? About what?"

Charles took a sip of his coffee before continuing, "Well, we've been together for almost a month now, and things have been going really well…"

"They have," you agreed, smiling up at him.

"And I was thinking," he continued, his fingers absently playing with a strand of your hair, "maybe it's time for you to meet my friends. My whole friend group, I mean."

You felt a small flutter of nervousness in your stomach. You'd met some of Charles' friends in passing, of course, but the idea of meeting his entire friend group felt significant.

"Your whole friend group?" you repeated, trying to keep your voice casual.

Charles nodded, his eyes searching your face. "Yeah. Joris, who you've already met a few times, Riccardo and Marta, and a few others. They're really important to me, and… well, you're really important to me too. I'd love for you all to get to know each other better."

You almost melted at his words, his green eyes looking at you with a tenderness that made you regret not looking at them for so long.

It wasn’t just the idea of meeting his friends—it was the way he phrased it, making you feel special, like you were becoming an integral part of his life. But at the same time, your nerves fluttered in your stomach.

“Charles, that sounds… great,” you said, trying to sound confident, but the slight edge in your voice gave you away.

He narrowed his eyes at you, gently setting his coffee cup down on the table. “But?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m just a little nervous," you sighed, shifting so you could look at him fully, "They’ve known you for so long, and I don’t want to feel like the odd one out, you know? What if I don’t fit in?”

“Mon amour, you’re not an outsider," Charles’ expression softened even more as he reached for your hand, interlocking your fingers with his, "You’re my girlfriend, and that means you’re already part of my world.”

You bit your lip, still feeling a little unsure. It was a lot of pressure—meeting the people who had been with Charles through thick and thin, who knew sides of him that you were still discovering.

“I’m sure they’re great,” you said, leaning into him a little, “but it’s still kind of intimidating. I mean, Riccardo and Marta have a baby. What if I’m awkward around Chiara?”

Charles let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Chiara’s a baby. All she cares about is who makes her laugh and who gives her food. And knowing you, you’ll have her wrapped around your finger in no time.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that, imagining a tiny baby giggling in your arms. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Charles replied, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Look, I get it. Meeting new people, especially people who are important to me, can be overwhelming. But I promise, they’re going to love you. And more importantly, I’ll be there with you the whole time.”

His words calmed the nervous buzzing in your mind, and you found yourself nodding slowly. “Okay. Let’s do it. I’ll meet them.”

Charles’ face lit up with that boyish grin you adored, and he kissed you softly on the lips. “That’s my girl. I’ll talk to them, and we’ll make a plan for next weekend.”

You smiled against his lips before pulling back. “Next weekend, huh? No pressure, right?”

He winked, squeezing your hand, “None at all. Just you, me, and my crazy friends.”

The following weekend came quicker than you expected, and before you knew it, you and Charles were standing outside Riccardo and Marta’s house, your heart beating a little faster than usual. The sounds of laughter and conversation drifted out from the backyard, and you could already hear Chiara’s high-pitched giggles.

“You okay?” Charles squeezed your hand as you stood at the front door.

“Yeah, just…" you took a deep breath, nodding, "You know, trying to remember how to be a functioning human.”

"Mon coeur, it's fine!" Charles gave you a huge grin, "Just think bout the first time you came to a race with Kika and met everyone. You were a natural."

You chuckled at the memory. "Yeah, and from that moment, I thought you disliked me for the longest time."

"Baby, we've talked about this," Charles raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "I was just... reserved," he said, his tone teasing but with a hint of sincerity.

You nudged him playfully. "You were cold! Barely even smiled at me. I thought, 'Great, Pierre’s friend is grumpy and doesn’t like me at all.’"

"And now, look at me," Charles laughed, pulling you closer, "Head over heels for you. Who would've thought?"

You felt a warmth bloom in your chest at his words. His eyes softened, and before you could respond, he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a gentle kiss.

When you finally pulled away, Charles rested his forehead against yours. "I promise, they’ll love you. Just be yourself, like you always are."

You nodded, a small smile on your lips. "Okay, I’m ready."

With that, Charles opened the door, and the two of you stepped inside, the lively sounds of his friends filling the space around you. The air was warm, the atmosphere welcoming, and as soon as you stepped through, Joris waved at you from across the room, and Marta smiled brightly, holding little Chiara.

"Well, well, if it isn't the girl who used to roll her eyes every time Charles spoke," Joris teased, approaching you and pulling you into a friendly hug.

You laugh, feeling some of your nervousness dissipate. "What can I say? He grew on me."

"Like a fungus, I'm sure," Joris winked, earning a playful shove from Charles.

Marta spotted you both and beamed, making her way over with Chiara balanced on her hip. Riccardo followed closely behind her, grinning widely.

"Ah, there he is," Riccardo greeted, pulling Charles into a hug before turning to you with a bright smile. "And this must be YN. It’s so great to finally meet you."

Charles stepped to the side, his hand still holding yours as he made the introductions. "Riccardo, Marta, this is YN, my girlfriend. YN, these are two of my closest friends in the world."

You smiled nervously but warmly, offering your hand to Riccardo, who brushed it aside to pull you into a friendly hug. "We do hugs around here," he said with a wink.

Marta followed suit, hugging you carefully while balancing Chiara in her arms. "It’s so nice to meet you, YN," she said, her smile warm and welcoming. "Charles has told us all about you. It’s about time we finally get to meet the girl who’s got him smiling all the time."

You chuckled nervously, your cheeks flushing a little. "He exaggerates."

"I don’t think so," Charles teased, his arm slipping around your waist again as he beamed at you.

Another one of Charles' friends raised his glass from where he was standing. "And here she is—the woman who tolerates Charles better than any of us."

You laughed at that, feeling some of the tension slip away as everyone welcomed you with open arms. The introductions continued as more of Charles’ friends trickled into the conversation, each one greeting you warmly, making you feel like part of the group in no time. It was clear that Charles’ friends were just as kind and friendly as he had promised.

“I’m so glad you could come," Marta said as she sat down next to you, little Chiara still in her arms.

“Thank you for having me,” you replied warmly, already feeling more at ease with her friendly demeanor.

Baby Chiara’s curious eyes darted toward you. You waved at her with a soft smile, and to your surprise, Chiara giggled, her little hands reaching out toward you.

“She’s been so excited all day,” Marta said with a chuckle, adjusting Chiara on her lap. “I think she knew we were having company. You want to hold her?”

You hesitated for a moment, but before you could even reply, Chiara was practically leaning over to get closer to you. You couldn't help but laugh, your heart melting at the sight of her small, chubby hands reaching out.

“I think she’s made up her mind,” you said, taking Chiara from Marta. The little girl settled in your lap immediately, looking up at you with wide, innocent eyes before giving you a sweet, toothy grin.

Charles, who had been chatting with Riccardo and Joris nearby, turned around just in time to catch the scene. His expression softened as he watched you interact with Chiara, his heart clearly in his eyes as he leaned against the counter, completely mesmerized.

“She loves you already,” Marta said softly, watching the way Chiara kept reaching for your face, fascinated by your hair and earrings.

“She’s adorable,” you said, your voice equally soft as you gently played with the little girl’s hands. Chiara giggled again, her laughter filling the room, and you couldn’t help but beam at her.

Charles crossed the room, his eyes still glued to the two of you. "She’s not the only one," he teased, placing a hand on your shoulder as he bent down to kiss your temple. "She’s got good taste."

"You're such a sap," Joris called out from where he sat, grinning as he popped another cookie into his mouth. "Look at you, all gooey and soft."

“Careful, Joris,” Charles replied, smirking at him. “Don’t make me start telling embarrassing stories about you."

“Oh, I’d love to hear those,” Marta chimed in, clearly enjoying the playful banter.

“Hey, I’m not the one who once locked himself out of the house without pants,” Joris shot back, earning a chorus of laughter from everyone around the room.

Amidst the laughter, Marta leaned closer to you, her voice just above a whisper. “You know,” she said, glancing at Charles, who was still gazing at you and Chiara with that adoring smile, “I’ve never seen him like this. I can tell he’s really happy with you.”

Her words made your heart skip a beat. You glanced up at Charles, feeling a warmth spread through you as you caught his eye. He winked at you, completely oblivious to Marta’s words, but it only made the moment more special.

"Thank you," you replied quietly, feeling a bit shy under her knowing gaze. "That means a lot coming from you."

Marta smiled, patting your hand. "I'm really glad he found someone special. You fit right in."

Before you could respond, Chiara began fussing slightly in your lap, clearly looking for something. Charles noticed immediately and knelt down beside you, offering the small toy she had dropped earlier. As soon as you handed it to her, Chiara calmed down, grabbing the toy and happily gnawing on it.

"I told you she'd love you," Charles grinned as he watched the two of you.

"You're right," you replied with a smile, gently bouncing Chiara in your lap. "She's perfect."

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter and easy conversation. You found yourself quickly settling into the group, enjoying the way everyone seemed so at ease with one another. Joris and Riccardo were relentless in teasing Charles, often making jokes about how smitten he was, while Marta continued to shoot you knowing glances, clearly pleased with how everything was going.

At one point, as the evening wound down, Chiara started to get sleepy. She nestled into your arms, her little fingers curling around your shirt as her eyes fluttered closed.

Charles, who had been watching the whole time, leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. "You’re amazing with her," he whispered, his voice filled with warmth.

"She’s the sweetest," you whispered back, glancing down at the tiny girl fast asleep in your arms.

Charles’ gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his heart completely full. He had never imagined that watching you with Chiara would have such an effect on him, but here he was, absolutely melting at the sight.

As the night drew to a close, Riccardo and Marta thanked you both for coming. “Next time, we’ll have to do it at your place, Charles,” Riccardo joked, clapping him on the back.

“Sure, as long as you bring Chiara,” Charles replied with a grin, his arm wrapped securely around your waist as you stood by his side.

Marta gave you a quick hug before you left. "Seriously," she whispered in your ear, "We're really glad you're in his life."

You smiled at her, feeling the warmth and sincerity behind her words. "Me too."

[munsonsmixtapes]

Touch Me

virgin!Eddie x fem!reader

summary: you get your nipples pierced and your best friend, Eddie is the first one you want to show

cw: MDNI (18+) nipple play, thigh riding

part two part three

You hadn't told Eddie that you were going to do it. He knew that you had been wanting to get your nipples pierced, talked about it at length, in fact. you thought it would make you look hot and Eddie couldn't have agreed more. Not that he would have ever told you that. How attracted to you he was and how often he got himself off at the thought of you, piercings included.

So when you showed up on his doorstep with your piercings peeking through after having gotten them done a few weeks ago, he was trying to keep himself from getting hard. He was trying to think about literally anything else, but all that was happening in his mind was flashes of him with his mouth on your tits, toying with your piercings as your back arched underneath him.

Little did he know that you had been waiting for them to heal a bit because you were thinking the same thing. You were going to take a leap and ask him if he wanted to have his way with them. Ever since you had that dream the night before your appointment, you couldn't get the idea out of your head. And now you had to make it a reality before you drove yourself crazy.

"So you finally went and did it," Eddie pulled you out of your thoughts.

"Sure did," you nodded, trying to arch your back subtly as you sat down on his bed. "Do you...wanna see them?" He could clearly see them through your very thin, very white shirt, seeing that you hadn't even put on a bra.

"Fuck yes." his words came out like a whimper and you tried your best to not think about how hot it sounded. You pulled off your shirt with ease, almost as if you had shown your best friend your tits all the time, which you didn't. Eddie definitely would have remembered that.

You let the shirt fall to the floor and pat the spot next to you, inviting Eddie to sit there. He was quick to sit next to you, his gaze on your tits the whole time. He hadn't seen many pairs (at least, not in real life) but he had to admit that yours were the best. And seeing the piercing going straight through your very hard nipples was just the cherry on top.

"You can touch them if you want." Eddie just blinked at you, unsure if he had heard you right. "Go ahead." You pressed your palms into the mattress, leaning back, giving Eddie perfect opportunity to touch you if he wanted to.

His hand reached out to one of them and he cupped it, not entirely sure what to do. He hadn't touched a woman period, let alone like this. But he was glad it was right, knowing that you would help him and be nothing but sweet while you did it.

"Here," you took his hand away from your tit and fixed it before putting it back so that his thumb was pressed against your nipple and the rest of his fingers were resting along the side, curling against your back.

His thumb moved back and forth along the piercing and you shut your eyes, feeling pleasure course through you. An involuntary moan fell from your lips and Eddie continued, seeing that you were enjoying it.

"That feels good," you told him. "Keep going." Eddie followed instructions, pressing even more and you moaned again, sounding even better than you did in his dreams.

He honestly couldn't believe it was happening, that he was touching his best friend in that way, but he loved it. The way you were pliant to his every touch was doing something to him. He was wondering what else you would have let him do if he had asked.

"Oh my god," you moaned again and Eddie looked down at your other nipple, desperate to have his mouth on it. He want to know what the felt like in how mouth. What it tasted like. The sounds you would have made if he sucked on it.

Before he could stop himself, his mouth was on your other tit. He immediately took the piercing between his teeth and let his tongue fiddle with it. It was cold, but he had to admit that he loved the way it felt. His tongue moved back and forth across your nipple and your hands moved to his hair as he began to suck on it.

It was gentle at first and then he used a little more force, loving to hear your cries underneath him. You knew that he had never done anything like that before so you wondered how he had gotten so good at it. Did he just have experience that you didn't know about?

The truth was that Eddie had watched a lot of porn and read a lot of smutty books to get himself familiar with it all and he had gotten very knowledgable about the subject even though he was a virgin. He never wanted to tell you about it, though. Not because he thought you would have made fun of him, but more because he wanted to keep it a secret. Something he had all to himself.

"Fuck," you whined. "Oh my god, how do you know how to do that?"

"Don't worry about it. Just lie back and enjoy." He helped you lie back on the bed then went in again, licking and sucking as hard as he could without hurting you. He was moving as slow as possible, wanting to soak up every second he had to touch you like this since he knew this was only going to be a one time thing.

Just when you thought he was finishing up, he took the piercing between his teeth and giving it a little tug, causing you to moan even louder. Clearly you liked that more than he was expecting.

"Do that again." He did as you asked, pulling a little hard this time which caused you to tug on his hair. He pulled one more time then liked a stripe across your nipple to diffuse the sting.

He then moved onto the other nipple, wanting to give it the same attention and you could feel your vision getting cloudy. You tugged on Eddie's hair even more as an orgasm ripped through you, a loud scream falling from your lips.

He gave one last tug before pulling away, leaving you to come down from your orgasm, unsure what to do. You stared up at him, your eyes glazed over and he swore you were the most beautiful you had ever been, lying there topless, your tits shining with his spit.

Eddie sat on the edge of his bed and you threw on your shirt before crawling over to him, spreading his thighs before straddling one of them. He didn't know what you were doing, but he sure as hell wasn't going to question it. He was going to let you do whatever you wanted to him considering that he had wanted you for years.

You hooked your finger under his chin and forced him to look you in the eyes, feeling like you could have looked into his with how pretty they were. Especially with the sun peeking through his window, giving them a golden tint.

Eddie looked up at you, his mouth slightly agape as he watched your every move, desperate to know what you were going to do next. He was literally on the edge of his seat and was eager to follow you in whatever you wanted to do.

"Can I kiss you?" You asked and all Eddie could do was nod enthusiastically since he had seemingly been rendered speechless.

Your grabbed hold of his hands and rested them on your waist while your arms wrapped around his neck. You then leaned in gingerly, wanting to take things slow since you knew he had never been kissed before. At least, not in the way that you were thinking. You had been each other's first kiss when you were thirteen, but that had just been a peck.

Your lips met his and he was quick to follow your lead, his lips moving with yours as his eyes shut tight. It was slow at first, but then you began to grind on his leg and his brain short circuited after that. The whole thing was becoming overstimulating for hi, but there was no way in hell that he was going to ask you to stop.

You continued to ride his thigh as you nipped at his bottom lip, a whimper coming from the back of his throat. You nipped again and then diffused the sting with your tongue before dipping it into his mouth, a full on moan falling from his lips as your tongue tangled with his.

As soon as felt his rock hard cock against your knee, you decided to put everything to a stop. You pulled away to see that his pupils were blown wide, his eyes glazed over with lust.

"Why'd you stop?" He asked, running his tongue over his bottom lip and you tried to hold back a laugh at your lipstick that had smeared all over his mouth and chin.

"Because I know you're not ready for the next step," you replied, swiping your thumb along his chin to get rid of the lipstick, but it had only made it worse. Eddie wanted to argue, but he knew you were right. He could do everything else no problem, but there was something about the penetrative part that scared him. And he appreciated that you understood him.

"Believe me, when you are ready, I will be the first person to volunteer to be your first. If that's what you want."

"You're the only person I'd want it to be."

"We'll I'm honored."

"Do you want to watch a movie or something?"

"I actually have to get to work, but I'll come over tonight and we can do more of this?"

"Sounds good," he nodded, already counting down the minutes. You pressed another kiss to his lips then climbed off of him before grabbing your purse, fleeing his room.

Eddie was quick to follow, watching to get in your car, trying to figure out what he was going to do in the few hours you were going to be gone, hoping that would be a regular thing between the two of you. Maybe if he played his cards right, it would be.

[teletubbyinlipstick]

More Hybrid!Poly TF141 x Reader pleaaasseeeee? 🥹

(ps, love your writing!)

OwlHybrid!Poly TF141 X Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading. You're all so sweet for the support! I'm negl. I didn't expect people to read it, haha. I'm so shocked by the love.

Thankyou @bina-passion-fruit for the morning after idea! See her reblog of the first part for the gist. And please feel free to send in scenarios you could see these birbs end up in!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day IS tense. The atmosphere has never been this suffocating.

Not in their own home.

Gaz sits curled up in Johnny's frame at the breakfast nook, head resting on the older mans shoulder, a deep frown setting into his face. His eyes are crusted a little, nose still deep red and cheeks puffy. He looks thoroughly exhausted, like he hasn't slept.

They all do.

Johnny has a cuppa sitting untouched. It's luke warm by now, but he can't bring himself to drink it. Face mirroring Gaz's, glaring down at the coffee like it has personally offended him. Every couple minutes, he huffs deeply, eyes darting away from the cup to glance around as if in thought, but he inevitably ends up gazing lost into his cup again.

Price and Simon are at the stove and counter. Quietly discussing things that need to be done for the day. There's lulls of silence in their convos, moments where their minds wander to the dove sleeping down the hall. Price feels guilt eating him alive. He's hunched a bit, chin tucked down in a clear sign of forlorn. Simon continues to run a hand up his spine soothingly, pressing closer to offer as much comfort as he can. But he can't deny the stabs of agony he, himself, feels.

It's raw. It sucks.

And Simon feels so fucking lost in this moment. He wants to gather all his mates in his arms (even you) and shush, coo, and coddle until there's nothing but purrs, chirps, and preened content lovers piled into a nest. He wants to scent you and rub you in their things to let you know you're safe and cared for now. He sees the trauma, the fear when Johnny reached for you. The self soothing you do by rubbing your arms.

He sees you. And in doing so, he sees himself. A scared fledgling unsure of the world, burned and bitten, spat upon by those who swore to love them.

Someone hurt you.

Tore at your feathers until you were too scared to take flight. And if Ghost ever gets a name he'd tear the motherfuckers wings from their spine.

The pitter patter of footsteps approaching the kitchen lifted them from their haze, four pairs of eyes snapping to you as you sleepily shuffled in. You wore a simple oversized t shirt and sweatpants to bed, hair rumpled from sleep, eyes and cheeks red and puffy from sleep. They can see the tear streaks dried from last night and it breaks their heart all over again.

Price makes the first move, taking a small step towards you with a plate held out. Buttered toast, sizzling eggs, and red srawberries sit on top.

"G'mornin' sweetheart, hope you slept well. 'Ve cooked some breakfast. There's coffee in the pot. Help yourself." Soft eyes gaze down at you. He's hunched inwards a little, head tilted down and the sweetest smile gracing his face. You feel very flustered, keenly aware of the 3 other sets of eyes intently watching.

Taking a deep breath, you offer a half smile, grasping the plate with slightly shaky hands.

"Uhm..t-thankyou, sir"

"John."

Wide doe eyes peer up at him, shock clear on your face. He feels his lips quirk at the sight.

"My mates call me John. Not sir. We're equal here, okay? You call me by my name." When his hand reaches out, you don't swat it away this time, only watching in marvel as he tucks hair behind your ears, crows feet aligning his kind eyes.

Taking a shaky breath, a soft, geniune smile spreads across your face, eyes darting to your feet and back up as you turn to the table. Johnny and Gaz are staring right at you, wings perked up. Gaz is quickest to his feet, pulling out a chair, a handsome grin settling on face. Pretty boy, you muse to yourself. Sitting down with a grateful smile and a hushed thankyou.

A hand reaches past your shoulder, jarring and unexpected. You whip your head up to see Simon offering a placate smile down at you, other palm face up to soothe. You tilt your head owlishly, blinking at him. It causes the older mans lips to quirk up on one side, brown eyes softening as he gazes down at you. He nods his head towards the table, and upon looking back to your plate, you realize he sat down a fork...oh.

Tears welled in your eyes, and a sniffle broke through. Simon's eyes widened a fraction, quickly backing away with both his hands raised, palm up.

"'M sorry luvie, didn't mean t'startle you."

It was sincere, filled with guilt. A small sob breaks past your lips. Johnny whines high in his throat, reaching out for your hand across the table, only to stop short, unsure if you'd appreciate the contact. His lips are once again pulled down, eyes saddened.

"Bonnie?..." Murmured so quietly into the air, the boys hold their breath, pulling their wings in to appear smaller. You wipe at your face again, sniffling, eyes glossy and cheeks rosy. And when you finally lifted your head, the last thing they expected was to see the brightest grin painted across your face, pure happiness shining, tear streaks lined with joy.

"No one's ever been so kind to me...thankyou. All of you."

Oh, dove, you haven't seen anything yet.

[rapplesart]

Random fic idea

Tim drake but instead of loosing his spleen he lost part of his leg.

Tim thought it was obvious he was missing his right leg from the knee down. It was a whole leg that was missing after all. Sure he was wearing a prosthetic made by Ra's' best people.

One he painfully earned after that crazy fucker made him fight a bunch of his assassins one legged in order to "proof himself as the true heir of the bat he saw in him" or something. So sure, the leg might be more advanced than most, and it imitated natural steps a lot easier and even made it possible to easily run without switching to a different leg. Truly it was a perfect leg be vigilante with. But he never even bothered to give it human like appearances.

But apparently the Fam didn't notice. When he returned with Bruce everyone was too reliefed to give Tim a closer look and it just never came up afterwards.

Tim thought they just didn't want to ask about it in a weird attempt of being polite or even caring. Bruce surely did enough research on how it happened on his own. The man spend the whole travel back to Gotham with Tim after all. Tim truly believed the world's greatest detective would have noticed his missing leg.

Except he didn't. Not if he interpreted the way they looked so incredibly disturbed by is nonchalant way of handlinh the boiling hot chemicals that landed on his metal leg. He just brushed it off, the battle continued and since nothing seemed to be injured no one pressed him when he said "Must've missed me after all"

Now, how do you deal with a family that didn't notice you're missing a leg? That's right you fuck with them.

First thing he did was buy himself a few more realistic looking prosthetic leg. It had to be custom made to fit his stump so it took a whole but it was a worthwhile investment.

The first one was Jason. Call it a twisted revenge for trying to kill him but Tim just really wanted him to be messed with the most. So one day when he knew it was only Jason and him on patrol he strategically set himself down to fall. Crunching some spaghettis to ass in a sickening way only to stand up and walk away as if nothing ever happened.... With his foot toned the wrong way around. Insisting on nothing being wrong and Jason being delusional whenever the older boy tried to get him to get medical treatment. He switched it up the whole evening, whenever he was out of sight he turned the fool right and wrong. Driving the guy insane.

Jason did not sleep well that night. He was also top weirded out and unsure if what he saw was real to talk about it with anyone else.

Then, he challenged dick to a flexibility contest seeing how far they han bend their knees and feet. Even Mr bones are a social construct gymnast Richard Grayson looked horrified as Tim stood there, food bend almost in half, knee twisted to the impossible and what looked lihe a bend in the middle of his leg. Dick claimed cheating except the thing that greeted him when he demanded Tim to puch up his pant leg to expose his trick was a normal looking leg. The first Robin did lots of stretches in the following weeks. His pride was hurt after all.

Finding a way to mess with Damian was a bit more difficult. The brat still made a bunch of harsh comments again and again and he really wasn't close enough with Tim to be easily gaslit. The kid was a trained assassin and was probably used to a bunch of weird shit considering everything Ra's. So Tim decided he could go a bit more gory on Robin than the others. So one night he sat in front of Damians room, in the dark hallway and waited till one of his pets passed him. Once Alfred the Cat came along he made some louder coping noise that would Definetly make the kid look out to check on his animals. It worked just as planned, Damian peeked out his door to see Tim, crosslegged and barefoot on the floor, seemingly cutting off his toe to feed the cat. In reality it was nothing more than a cat treat and carefully picked, animal safe food coloring.

The kid scremed at him, threatened to stab him, punched him real good for harming his cat and took off with said cat to find Alfred so the older man could check on the poor kitten. Of course not beforeaking sure Tim was in an adequate amount of pain on the floor, with his 'injured' food secured to the floor with another knife. Only to return with a worried Alfred on tow to see Tim, standing two whole bare feet with a confused expression and a bag of cat treats in the hall.

Tim got a broken nose for it but it surely was worth it. Especially once he quietly whispered a 'no one will ever belief you' to the kid in passing. He might have traumatised the boy a little but Tim fought it justified for all the attempted murder he suffered.

[triptuckers]

kissing it better - logan howlett

Request: nope Pairing:  logan howlett x reader Summary:  based on this post by @sarahsmi13s Warnings:  nothing but tooth rotting fluff ugh I love logan Word count:  1K A/N: this post… yes.. also logan deserves some soft love <3 enjoy!

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slow, domestic mornings with logan are few and far in between. it’s why you cherish every one you get.

life in the mansion is hectic, to say the least. even if you would take away everyone’s mutant abilities, there’s still a couple of dozen kids with a lot of energy swarming the place.

but you wouldn’t have it any other way. you’d been one of those kids once. unsure of your place in the world, scared, not knowing who you could trust. 

like many young mutants, you caused chaos and pain when your mutation manifested. your own parents were afraid of you. and then the professor showed up at your house and told you about his school. 

you’ve spent many years here now, teaching the children while also being a member of the x-men. you finally have a place where you belong, where you feel safe and at home. where you have friends and family who care about you.

meeting logan was only the cherry on top.

from the moment you met him, you’d been curious about him. one day you were teaching your class as usual, the next moment there was a guy with anger issues and adamantium claws in your classroom. 

at first you were stunned, as were the students, but you introduced yourself and told him to take a seat once he explained the professor thought it was a good idea for him to know what life at the mansion would be like.

ever since, he’s been sitting in on a lot of your classes. you thought it was because he was interested in the topics, but later on he confided in you that your voice and presence soothe him. 

after that conversation, logan was around you often. to learn about the mansion, he said, but you knew better.

the more time you spent with him, it became obvious he came to you when he needed to calm down. he didn’t need you to talk to him, just needed to be near you.

sometimes you would talk. it was mostly you who did the talking, though. you told him about your childhood, how you met the professor, your time at the mansion as a kid, teasing scott about jean when you were a teenager. and then you told him about the missions you went on with your fellow x-men, the classes you taught the children, how they continued to surprise you every day.

and slowly, as logan started to trust you more, he told you about his life. what it was like years ago, what he went through. you wanted logan to open up to you on his own, but you couldn’t deny you were curious about him and his life. sometimes you couldn’t help it. 

you were cradling one of his hands, taking a closer look at his knuckles as you sat on the edge of your desk. the classroom was empty, the students long gone. but logan was still there

you feel logan’s gaze on you, but you continue to study his hand. turning his hand over in yours, examining it.

‘you really can just get them out whenever you want?’ you ask him.

‘yeah.’ says logan.

‘can I see them?’

logan briefly hesitates. no one’s ever asked him that. most people who have seen his claws up close didn’t live to tell the story. but you’re being so gentle with him, he does as you ask.

you drop your hands as he pulls his arm away slightly. then he slowly lets his claws come out. you watch as the skin between his knuckles splits as the adamantium blades slice through. 

you briefly look up to logan and notice how he clenches his jaw slightly. 

‘does it hurt?’ you ask him. ‘when they come out?’

logan looks down at you. at this fellow x-men, a teacher, a lover. no one has ever been this patient and gentle and loving with him.

‘every time.’ he says, looking at the way you’re holding his hand.

it had been a long time since logan had slept in his own room. what few belongings he had, he added to your room. but because the mansion life was a busy life, you rarely get to enjoy each other’s presence like this.

logan is still asleep. his breath tickles the back of your neck. one of his arms is lazily swung over your body, the other beneath your head. you love waking up like this, safe in his embrace.

you reach out and softly run your fingers over his knuckles. it’s remarkable how fast his skin heals. 

your touch wakes logan, who stirs behind you. now that he’s awake, you turn around in his arms so you can bury your face in his neck. logan pulls you closer, wanting to go back to sleep.

he feels how you take a hold of his hand and move it. then he feels something on his knuckles. he opens his eyes and sees you pressing soft kisses to the skin between his knuckles, right where the tips of his claws rest beneath his skin.

logan has never been the romantic type. but he swears he feels his heart burst with the amount of love he feels for you. you’ve kissed him before, obviously. but not like this, not on his knuckles.

‘what are you doing?’ he asks, voice still laced with sleep. 

you briefly look up at him before you move to get a hold of his other hand, bringing it up to your lips.

‘you said it hurts every time they come out.’ you explain. ‘I’m kissing it better.’

logan’s lips part in surprise, before smiling at you. 

‘you’re gonna do this every time they come out?’ he says.

you nod. ‘yes. you said it hurts every time. so I’ll kiss it better every time.’

‘you’ll be busy for the rest of your life, then.’

‘that’s okay. I don’t plan on going anywhere.’ 

logan leans in and presses a soft kiss against your lips. with his forehead against yours, he drifts off to sleep again. feeling the occasional kiss against his knuckles. 

A/N: thanks for reading! everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. please do not copy, translate, plagiarise or repost my work! some of these are requested by other people and I spend a lot of time and effort on my works <3 much love, marit

[whoreforsexymen]

This might be kind a kind of crazy request but hear me out, but feel free to ignore if your uncomfortable. So it's Jace Talis x reader SFW but it aludes to smut. Basicaly jayce wants to gets freaky with his girl or guy or whatever, but Jayce want to watch victor get freaky with the reader, Jayce's partner. I don't want to see any smut, but I just want to see the conversation go down between Jayce and Victor, of Jayce asking Victor if we would like to smash his partner and watch them lol.

Your wish is my command, darling. Sit back and let Mommy do her thing 🤍 (Also, tagging this as NSFW since it uses strong language, and heavily eludes to is directly about cucking.)

Jayce asking you to cuck him w/ Viktor | Flash

Pairings: Jayce Talis x Reader x Viktor

Pronouns: None used for Reader. Can be read as GN!!

Rating: NSFW, 18+ MDNI !!!!!

Word Count: 447

Tags: Cuckholding, Implied M/M (if you squint), Heavy implications of sex (duh), maybe slight OOC Jayce (also, if you squint), slight Sub!Jayce (if you REALLY REALLY SQUINT)

Notes: I have yet to watch S2 because I already can’t handle the heartbreak I know is waiting around the corner for me. So this is written with S1 Viktor and Jayce!!

Also, my first request!!! EEEE!! I hope you like it!! I wrote this so fast cause I was so excited and had nothing else to do hehehe xo

I ALSO KNOW YOU ASKED FOR THE CONVO TO BE BETWEEN VIKTOR AND JAYCE— WHICH ILL DO SOON, TOO, AS A PART 2!! But I liked this idea better ansjdkdkskkkkk for now!!

“…What?” You ask, bewildered.

“I know— I know it’s a weird request. But. I don’t know. I just think it would be hot to watch you… y’know… get fucked by someone else. And— I mean. It’s not like there’s anyone I trust more than Viktor—“ Jayce spoke quickly, a hint of embarrassment lacing his words as he let out a nervous chuckle, his fidgeting betraying his best efforts to exude a calm facade.

He swallowed tightly, his nerves making him feel exposed and helpless, like a child left alone in the dark.

“So. Let me get this straight. I just want to make sure I’m hearing you right. You want Me— And— Viktor, to fuck… While you watch?” You ask plainly.

Jayce swallowed once more, his nerves spiraling as he struggled to hold himself together.

“That is what I said… yes.” He mutters, scratching the back of his neck.

You stare at him, dumbfounded. The idea itself doesn’t catch you off guard—not really. In fact, it stirs something exciting within you. It’s a little unconventional, sure, but you’re not opposed to exploring what could lie ahead for your sex life with Jayce. You might enjoy letting him take the lead most of the time, but there’s something about the way he’s dancing around this topic in particular— too nervous to be bold—that sparks a fire in your gut.

“Hmm.” You hum softly, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“Is it just because you wanna see your boyfriend naked~?” You tease, your hands resting lightly on his chest as you look up at him, your gaze heavy with playfulness, smoldering as always.

Jayce stammers harder than before.

“I- wh- No. Pfft. It’s just- I just-..” He can’t even continue his stammering before you kiss him. It was a soft and chaste one, yet needy in its own way, and above all—understanding.

After several long seconds, once you sense his nerves start to settle, you slowly pull away, the tension lingering in the space between you.

“We can do that.” You say softly, giving him one extra peck to the lips.

“Really?” He queries, unsure of if you’re being truthful.

You emit a gentle chuckle.

“Yes, my love… I’m open to it.” You explain, running your hands along his chest… Over his vest… and down the length of his tie. You felt him shudder beneath your wandering hands.

“Why don’t you ask Viktor, and if he’s open to it, we can try��� let’s see… tonight, hmm?” You ask, leaning in and nibbling his ear ever so teasingly.

After a long pause, Jayce finally speaks again, his voice quieter now, as if weighing his words more carefully.

“I already asked him. He said yes.”

[sweetnothingtm]

okay this is soo wild but please hear me out… inspo 🧟‍♂️

zombie!könig (think warm bodies) who falls in love with you during the apocalypse. he sees the glow in your skin, so gentle and warm. he feels the rhythm of your heartbeat, the way you smell like flowers - zombie!könig becomes instantly obsessed, and he must have you.

your first date ends with you sobbing uncontrollably, kicking and screaming and begging him not to eat you. zombie!könig tries to calm you, groaning and reaching for you with fingers soaked in blood. it’s okay, he won’t harm such a sweet little lamb - just a taste, just a feel, just the sound of your breath hitching as he moans out his name in introduction.

he protects you from the other undead, groaning and snarling at them when they smell your sweet skin. he snaps his teeth, pulling you closer to him to mask your scent with his. he follows the beat of your heart to wherever you go, lamely pawing at the door when you close it behind him.

he can’t come home with you, it’s just too dangerous. but you promise you’ll return. so zombie!könig waits for you, gnawing on rotting flesh and imagining that it’s you, warm and inviting and making him drool.

zombie!könig who you came back to, hesitant and unsure like an innocent lamb sent to slaughter. you flinch when he reaches for you, stomach churning as he touches your chest and feels your heartbeat. but he’s so gentle with you, fingertips dancing along your flesh in awe.

he doesn’t understand how you feel so warm, how your skin is so soft and unmarked by rot. zombie!könig tilts his head in curiosity when he gropes your chest and you laugh awkwardly. there's a deep need for him to seemingly feel your heart in his hands. your voice is sweet and slow, and he’s mesmerized by the way that you whisper to him.

and when you accidentally cut yourself in front of him, the blood a dark simmering red that pulls at zombie!königs sanity, he bites his hand to stop himself from harming you. he won’t ever hurt you, little lamb. he’ll always protect you. yes, you can trust him - you can love him.

zombie!könig who has a carnal desire to taste you. he wants to taste your flesh, your blood, your insides, your heart, anything of yours he can get his hands on. he’s so desperate and lonely, a spark igniting in his brain at the idea of consuming you whole. he wants you. he needs you.

zombie!könig who can’t eat your actual insides, what he imagines as so soft and supple - so instead he goes down on you for his own pleasure.

he has his eyes locked on your features, hands covered in grime pressing against your thighs as you breathe shakily. zombie!könig can hear the beat of your heart, how your blood is rolling over with fear and desire. you make him promise he won’t bite, not even a nibble - and he’s so head spun with need that all he offers is a guttural groan and curt nod of his head.

zombie!könig whose instincts take over as he’s going down on you, tongue pushing against you and lapping at the skin. he wants to go deep, explore every inch of you and taste the forbidden fruit. his mouth moves sloppily, a deep hunger making him suck and kiss. his drool is coated against your soft and warm skin, and he has never tasted a flesh so delicious and addicting.

zombie!könig who can feel his sanity slipping away as you tighten your thighs around his head, squeezing and squirming underneath his touch as he snarls and grunts for more, more. you taste so heavenly, so alive and warm and sweet. the creamy wetness between your thighs smeared all over zombie!königs face, soft moans escaping your lips as you beg him to continue.

zombie!könig who feels you cum all over his tongue, letting you mewl and gasp for air as he continues to lick and suck at the skin. he’s so hungry, touch starved, so cold and lifeless. but you’re so sweet, he can’t help but graze his teeth against your skin and look up to you with bloodshot eyes.

zombie!könig whose hunger for flesh has been satisfied by you, so warm and gentle and kind, ready to be devoured by him.

[moonlight-prose]

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

➛ 01. IN DREAMS WE REST

a/n: i've been stressed about this fic probably more than any other i've ever written. not because it's logan per se, but because wade wilson makes me want to rip my hair out. i love that bastard, but writing him feels like pulling teeth. i'm in love with this concept solely for the angst, so if you see more throughout and wonder if they will ever get a happy ending, please know i'm dead inside. enjoy!

summary: stuck in another universe and unsure of where he stands, logan expects things to even out as they always did. but when you cross his path and you have no idea who he is, he's in for a rude awakening.

word count: 5.9k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: not explicit, wade wilson breaking the fourth wall, angst, cussing so much cussing, alcohol consumption, grief, pain, a broken man pretending he's not broken, chance encounters, awkward conversations, hope.

NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

He can hear it when he sleeps.

Their screams.

The constant ring of agony that chimes out like a bell, an alarm he never set for himself. A joke once told to him in the midst of World War II, as bullets flew by him and soldiers lost their lives each second of each day. There's no escape from hell. No running from the devil that nipped at his heels the faster he went, the longer he tried to navigate a way free.

There's no escape from the memories that ate away in his mind. Multitudes of them, of the faces he once called family, the people he used to love. They were his punishment. The boulder he continued to roll up the hill, day after day after day. Until eventually...he was crushed by his own self-hatred.

"Logan." The voice whispered long enough for him to grasp who it might be, yet never louder than a mere breath of air.

He clung to it some days. Sunk his claws into what little of his past remained good and allowed it to fill him with some amount of peace. At least then he'd be able to bear this weight, this grief he could never quite name.

Something light brushed across his cheek. Tickling the skin enough to send a flare of irritation down his spine, but the dreams held him in their grasp. What came next never surprised him. He expected it at this point—longed for it. The distant pain of losing what once made him whole; the entirety of his life now defined by one single moment he could never change.

"He sleeps so sweetly. I just want to curl up in his arms and have him read me bedtime stories."

"He's not gonna like that when he wakes up."

"Zip it Al. If I wanted an opinion, I'd go see a Hollywood therapist."

A scoff echoed in the background. "No therapist wants you on their couch."

"Not true. I hear Ryan Reynolds has a great one."

"Who?"

"Not the point." The feather dusted across Logan's face again, soft enough to keep him asleep yet annoying enough to bring a smile to Wade's face. "I wonder if he's dreaming about killing bad guys. They say it's good for the soul."

"Who the fuck is they?"

Wade laughed. "Oh you know. Them. The readers. And boy howdy do they love their blood."

Every day he was forced to listen to Wade's voice became another day Logan dragged his claw through a tally mark of his sanity. "Do you ever shut the fuck up," he growled, gripping Wade's wrist until he heard the satisfying crack of bones.

"Only when I swallow."

"I'll tear your fuckin' arm off."

The smile on Wade’s face only added another tally. "Nice kitty. No need for the claws."

Anger washed across his skin in a familiar wave as he released Wade's arm, watching it go limp. Trying to kill the unkillable walking irritation was like trying to swat a fly that never quite died. It still buzzed incessantly. Until eventually madness was the only viable option of dealing with it. In his case, he seemed to be driving head on with no brakes.

Logan wasn't sure he possessed enough sanity left within him to keep dealing with this. Sleeping on the couch didn't help the way his body never rested; always stuck in that permanent fighting mode. He'd give anything to find some peace. A small sliver of it carved off the past that continued to call him—that begged him to come back and try again.

Swinging his legs off the couch, he planted a swift kick to Wade's chest that sent him across the floor. The lack of caffeine in his system left everything hazy and half coherent. If he focused he might have caught the keys thrown at him, but being exhausted and sober didn't make for a good combination with him. An empty whiskey bottle lay discarded on the floor from last night; the memories of how he passed out barely tinged on the edge of his mind.

He could recall stabbing Wade in the leg.

Nothing beyond that.

Dried blood—now an ugly brown—stained his white shirt. He nearly stripped himself of it, prepared to throw it in with whoever was washing next, but his flannel being chucked at his head caught him off guard.

"Fuck off," he snapped, stumbling to the kitchen.

Wade sighed, following him. "Get dressed, peanut. We have to go do human things today."

"Human–”

"Food," Al retorted. "We're out."

Even in a new universe, he couldn't see himself acting normal. For so long he did what had to in order to survive. Yet now...he wasn't so sure. Accompanying Wade Wilson in order to complete household chores left a bad taste in his mouth. But the thought of fresh coffee and an unopened bottle of whiskey sounded like sweet silver bells in his head.

With reluctance, he buttoned up half of the flannel before he became annoyed with the small size of the holes punched into the fabric. There was only so much he could do with the life he had now. And sometimes shit really sucked.

"Don't scratch my fucking car," Al pointed her words towards Wade, thankfully ignoring Logan's existence for a brief moment.

"Is it safe for her to own a car?"

The door shut behind him with a bang, echoing down the vacant hallway. He was surprised people actually lived here given Wade's antics. They could hear the loud mouthed fucker across the street—if the angry notes in the mail were anything to go by. He didn't bother asking if he should be concerned with any of it. Not when he had no say in how the house was run. And choosing to insert himself where he wasn’t needed, rarely went well for him.

"God no. But I give her the benefit of the doubt. She hasn't killed anyone. Yet."

He yanked the keys out of Wade's hand. "Yeah well I don't trust you either Bub."

The car didn't leave room for his legs as he squeezed into the driver's side. His body practically folded in half as he turned it over—the rumble of the engine rattling against metal. How Blind Al managed to pay for this vehicle went beyond even Wade's knowledge, and in all honesty…he was too fucking scared to ask.

Too much seemed to be happening for him to ever catch up. While this Earth felt similar to his, small things were different. And when they began to add up...he began to wonder if he was drowning.

"Turn left to merge onto the asscrack of traffic."

He barely heard the directions as he drove, his mind drifting the further they went. Part of him sensed the grief from earlier begin to claw up the back of his throat. It begged him to fall, to be swallowed whole by the darkness he'd been stuck in before. And he nearly gave in; could feel his body shift into its constant mode of fight or flight.

The steering wheel cracked under his white knuckled grip as Wade's voice became an afterthought to the war he fought in his mind. Terror trapped itself in his throat and he slammed his foot on the brakes a foot away from a parking spot in retaliation. The car lurched forward, his claws descended. A snarl rumbled in his chest the longer he sat there thinking.

"Woah..." For the first time in days, Wade fell silent. "You alright?"

Logan ripped himself free, shoving his body out of the car before he even threw it in park. He gulped in breath after breath and did his best to wait for this fucking feeling to leave his system. The nightmares only came as he slept. A constant familiar horror show after two centuries.

Yet now he was left like this. Leaned up against a car, his eyes closed shut, and heart racing.

All because he couldn't do his fucking job.

"Logan–"

He snapped, shoving past Wade and his pity that choked him with a vengeance. He didn't deserve anyone's pity. He didn't want it. But people couldn't help but hand it over unconsciously. As if they could see the layers of broken pieces beneath his false expression of strength. Logan never pretended to be okay. Why bother with something people could see right through?

He merely wanted others to ignore he was there. Walk past him, look through him, do whatever it took to pretend that him and all his tragedies weren't standing before them. Because one day he would die and fuck how he couldn't wait for that time to come.

A small hole in the wall dive bar sat in the corner of the shopping center. He barely caught sight of it. But the unmistakable scent of alcohol poured out the door as someone stumbled out—their eyes squeezed shut against the harsh brightness of the sun. He could understand them in a way.

His world didn't have sunlight this bright. Or perhaps he never noticed it ‘til now.

Maybe his body wasn't acclimated yet; unsure of what the fuck was still happening. Everything seemed to be turned up to eleven for him, yet no off switch existed.

The dark hazy glow of the interior sent a wave of calm through him as the door swung shut with a soft thud. Four people sat scattered around the place and a bartender with white and graying hair stood cleaning a glass so foggy it was probably better to throw it out. He found himself letting out a breath that'd been trapped in his chest since that morning. Finally some peace before he had to listen to Wade yap about bullshit he didn't in fact give a shit about.

"What'll you have?" the old man asked, his face screwing up in a wince as he limped towards Logan's spot at the end of the bar.

A quick glance down let him see the brace wrapped around the man's knee. "Whiskey on the rocks."

He nodded, slowly heading towards the center of the wall—a lonesome half empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the counter. Logan shifted, taking the center seat directly behind the man.

"I can't say I've seen you around before son."

He grinned, his finger tracing a random carving that'd been placed in the wood. "I just moved here. Living with a coworker."

"Coworker huh?"

The word didn't sound right to Logan, but he couldn't exactly call Wade his friend. Although they were more than people who fought together, more than men who shared blood during the same battle. That was the thing about Logan though. He'd never be able to put a label on something like that. To him...things weren't one or the other as much as he wanted to pretend they were. There was nuance to his life.

Complications which made living that much harder.

The man turned, surprised to see Logan so close, but didn't make note of it. Logan could see the gratitude in the way his drink was slid carefully to him. The small silent thank you in the bowl of pretzels placed beside it.

"You look lost."

Logan grunted, biting into the salty and dry snack. "Do I?"

"More than some of the others that come around here."

"And who comes around here?"

The man laughed. "No one as of late. You're the first young man I've seen in a while walk through those doors."

He bit back his laugh at the word young. The stories he could tell would leave the man baffled. About wars that no living person had witnessed. About when the world was far different than today—when mutants were freaks of nature and humans were far less forgiving. He could list it all and then some.

But whether or not someone would listen was another thing entirely.

"This place that old?" he inquired, sipping on the amber liquid with a contented sigh.

"Oh you bet." A weary laugh filled the space. "I bought this place in the sixties. When my wife was still my girlfriend. She almost left me because of it."

Logan huffed, his lips curling slightly. "She wasn't a fan?"

The man shook his head, tossing a cloth over his shoulder. "Still isn't. Well she...wasn't." He pressed his thumb to the worn gold band on his left hand. "When she was alive she used to host a book night. Helped bring in the men's wives. Kept them outta trouble."

"Book night huh?"

"She loved to read."

Before he could down the final sips of his drink it was topped off. Logan nodded his head in thanks, his thumb digging into the thumbprint shape of the glass. If he thought about it hard enough, he could almost see himself coming here every night. He pictured a life far different than his own, a past where he might have been happy. With someone who might have even made him smile.

"I'm not much of a reader," he replied, his voice hoarse and eyes fixed on the ice that floated to the surface.

"Ah me too," the man laughed. "I just liked seeing her smile."

A soft remark was on the tip of his tongue before an entirely new image began to take shape. The face of someone lost. Of a smile he'd known better than his own. Hands that once held his face with the tenderness of a lover—a voice that sent the hair rising on the back of his neck. He could see it as clear as he did the man.

You in all your beauty. Lost to a past he could no longer rectify.

He swallowed thickly, beating back every emotion that crawled under his skin. "What's your name?"

"Travis."

Raising his glass, he tipped it towards the man with a tight grin. "Logan." The alcohol went down with a quick and biting burn. A feeling he'd grown familiar with. One he counted on.

"Nice to meet you Logan."

"Yeah you too."

He dug out some cash and tossed it on the bar as he stood with a slight grunt. He may heal quickly but the ache in his bones still existed. As if something resisted against how his body moved with each slow shift.

Fighting meant he could ignore it.

Existing is what made it worse.

The sun practically burned his eyes when he stepped out, the heat of the day encompassing his whole body quicker than he would have liked. For some unknown fucking reason, summer here felt worse than on his Earth. Then again the alcohol didn't help. He stood in the shade of the building next to the bar, searching the parking lot for any sign of Wade.

Going into the store wasn't an option and as much as he wanted to leave the annoyance behind, he didn't want to feel like a piece of shit. That is...even more than he already did.

"Fuck," he hissed, leaning against the brick wall. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

One option would be taking a walk to work off the energy that ran through his veins. At least then he'd be able to sleep at night. And the temptation almost worked. If it weren't for the shop doors that opened to his left, effectively distracting him from the chance of leaving. He could have ignored the person, probably should have given everything he'd been through.

But then his heart dropped to his stomach as you walked out. He'd never seen you in such a soft sundress before, the off white fabric draped off your curves in a way that floored him. As if you were an angel floating by without a care in the world. You were busy shoving a small piece of paper in your purse, your face furrowed in frustration, and Logan smiled. Because he'd traced each line of that face before, he'd kissed those cheeks, your eyelids as you slept.

He'd loved you in ways that would scare a normal human.

And there you were.

"Honey?" he called, unconsciously following you quicker than he intended to. "Honey."

You glanced to the side, completely unaware of the giant lumbering man trailing after you with a soft look on his face and hope in his hands.

That alone tore him in two more than the memories from before.

"Baby, it's me."

The breeze finally went through the air, pushing the skirt of your dress a bit higher on your thighs. Except that's not what he latched onto. Your scent was different. Unlike any he'd encountered before. Honey still sweetly caressed his senses, but flowers overlayed that—peonies if he guessed. Delicious enough to have his mouth watering; his body already aching for you to be closer. To look at him in the way you used to.

He wanted to call out to you—gain your attention properly—but your name wouldn't leave his tongue. Because you were there and you finally caught sight of him and you were looking at him as if nothing bad ever happened between the two of you.

You saw him as a man.

Not a disappointment.

He willed himself to stop and breathe. Take in his surroundings; realize that you weren't who he once knew. You weren't even the same fucking person.

But before he could think straight, he'd already followed you halfway to your car. His eyes were dazed, heart nearly throttling him alive as he stood there dumbly. Waiting for you to finally speak.

"Oh..." Your heart rate spiked quicker than he expected. He couldn't find it in himself to feel bad though. "Hello?"

"Honey," he sighed, the weight on his shoulders lifting ever so slightly.

He caught the way your fingers tightened around your keys, the defense mechanism an instinct by now. And Logan realized what he looked like. A strange man standing too close for your liking. So he took a step back and gave you some space. In the hopes that you wouldn't see him as a threat. That maybe...you'd listen to what he had to say.

"Can I help you?" you asked, eyes darting around the parking lot in case you needed help.

What he wouldn't give for the opportunity to reassure you. To explain that he wasn't here to hurt you. That he'd kill himself before even laying a hand on you. Yet the correct words were lost and all he seemed to get out was an incoherent babble that had him wanting to dig his own claws into his chest.

"You smell different."

You straightened your spine, eyes narrowed into a glare he felt burn across his skin. "Look, I don't know who you are. But fuck off."

Something akin to pride flared in his chest at your tone, your words. But he couldn't show it externally. How would he explain that your fight—your fire—is what drew him to you in the first place? How could he tell you about a version of yourself you'd never know? A person he thought would be with him until his last breath exhaled into the world.

"I'm not here to hurt you." He raised his hands in an attempt to prove his point, but like your variant counterpart you were willing to bite first and ask questions later.

"Yeah. Sure asshole." The shopping bag in your other hand was lifted up, until you had a tighter grip on it in case something happened. You didn't know him. You probably never would.

But Logan had to try. He owed it to you to give it all he had this time around.

Otherwise...what was the point of living?

"My name's–" He made the wrong move stepping forward and knew it the second his boot hit the gravel. With a wince, he watched you stumble back against your car, your arm coming up to protect yourself. "No. Look I'm not gonna do anything–"

"Get the fuck away from me," you spit.

He moved back as if approaching a wounded animal—his body finally on edge in a new way. The fact that you didn't know him wasn't what broke off another chunk of his heart. He could handle that. He'd been through that.

You were afraid of him.

That realization dug in too deep for his body to heal.

That...he couldn't live with.

"WOAH hey!" He'd never appreciated Wade's irritating ass more than in this moment. He jumped between the two of you, the cart of groceries forgotten as he blocked Logan from your sight. "Step away from the nice lady wolf boy." Wade regarded you with a smile. "Hi! Sorry. This is my uncle and well as you can probably tell he's lost eight of his lives. So we're going on little old nine. And well the mind just goes to shit first."

Seconds passed by like minutes and Logan watched you visibly deflate. "Wade," you greeted him, visibly calmer than before. Logan felt his stomach twist violently at the thought. "It's good to see you. How's the job?"

"Oh yup you know. Left that. But I'm really pushing through. I've got an Etsy store where I sell miniature paintings of Michael Angelo's David's penis. So there's that."

Your laughter sent a hole through his chest and Logan bit back the growl that rose up the back of his throat. What the fuck was Wade doing making friends with you? Why were you laughing at his humor?

He couldn't count how many days he'd spent longing to hear your laugh again, the shine in your eyes that always came around when joy flooded your bloodstream. He could smell the honey off your skin, the warmth of what no doubt lay beneath your thin dress. And he wanted to rip Wade to pieces knowing that he was the one making it happen. That you were comfortable with a man who's mouth ran at a mile a minute.

"Did your sister have the baby yet?"

You brightened and Logan felt his heart stutter. "She did! A boy."

"Named Wade I hope."

Another peal of laughter had Logan's claws itching to descend as you ignored he was there. "Theo actually. A cutie."

"Aww." Wade moved closer, head bent to see the small polaroid you pulled out of your wallet. "Wow, he looks like you'd find him in a Gerber's advertisement."

Your eyes drifted up, past Wade's shoulder, until you finally caught Logan's gaze. And he felt like he could breathe. Every ounce of fear was wiped from your face; interest now creeping in as you dragged your eyes down his form. Past the slight peek of chest hair and down to how his jeans hugged his hips. Logan stood taller for your benefit, as if he needed to make a good impression.

He wanted to linger in your mind for days. Until the curiosity ate you alive.

"We're gonna go," Wade announced, after grabbing your bag and placing it in your trunk for you. "Someone has to feed the blind woman in my apartment. She tends to root through everything looking for food." He gripped Logan's arm, shoving him back a good few feet. Even as your eyes still remained glued to his face. "Glad to see the Hyundai is still working. You know you could take the fattest fucking nap in the back of that puppy. Makes you feel like an Egyptian mummy."

"Bye," you said, a dazed look in your eyes as Logan smiled in your direction. At ease with the knowledge that even in a different universe, he could still fluster you with a look.

Dragging himself away from you was hell, but Wade's grip remained unbreakable as they clambered to the car. The groceries stacked in the small backseat.

He could glimpse you driving off and suddenly the nightmare from earlier was the last thing on his mind.

Wade's back hit the wall with a crack before the door could shut properly. The groceries in their hands toppled to the floor. He barely had time to duck before Logan's claws were aiming for his head—a snarl ripping from his throat.

"What the fuck?" Wade shouted, grabbing the paper bag and gently setting it on the table. "Next time just say you need to stay home and find some joy in an empty room and your hand."

"How do you know her?"

Wade smiled, assessing the furious state of chaos Logan was now left in. The tatters of his stability falling to the floor around him. For as much as he held himself together, it certainly remained easy enough to tear him a part.

"Got an eye on someone, do we honey badger?"

Logan grimaced, running a hand down his face. "Would you just fucking tell me?"

"Let me bask in this Logan. I'm about to watch a romcom come to life and need some popcorn." He rummaged through the bag, yanking out some chips. "Salty and sweet. That'll do."

"Wade," he bit out.

"Stick with us girls, we're about to get to the good stuff."

"WADE!"

He tossed the bag to the table, eyeing the way Logan never quite settled. "I'm gonna take a guess and say we know her more than just friendly hellos."

Logan couldn't answer because his grief did it for him. He did what he could to catch his breath, to stop seeing his version of you. The disappointment on your face, the pain in your voice. You'd been so angry with him. To watch the person he loved be reduced to a screaming crying mess wasn't something he wanted to relive, but Wade's question seemed to send an avalanche toppling to the ground.

"She's..." He sucked in a breath. "On my world. I...knew her."

"Knew her? Or knew her."

He reached for the bottle of whiskey Wade threw in with the rest of the groceries and popped it open before he spoke again. "It didn't end well between us. None of it did."

Wade fell silent and Logan found himself loathing the quiet more than the sound of his voice. If he was joking Logan could ignore it. He could pretend nothing happened. That you weren't here, you couldn't be hurt by him again.

You were safe from his destructive tendencies as long as you were in another universe.

"She lives across the street." Logan's head rose and whipped to see the window that faced the building across from them. "The old uncultured shit whistles that keep complaining about WHAM! the greatest thing to happen to music. They're her neighbors. Live right next door."

"Neighbors."

Wade nodded, offering him a chip. "She found their note and angel that she is, she very sweetly threatened to get them evicted. I offered to let her borrow my katanas but was rejected like younger me on prom night. You've really got yourself a catch there buddy."

Logan didn't need Wade to tell him how fucking lucky he was. He knew that the second you walked out of that store. You were everything good in his life at one point, everything he couldn't save. There wasn't much keeping him going on his old Earth, but having you made all the suffering he went through—all the pain he endured—worth it.

If you were waiting for him at the end, he'd do it all over again.

"So you want to take a dip in that honey huh? Taste that rainbow?"

His claws would have sunk into Wade's throat if a knock hadn't sounded at the door. With a huff, he stepped into the kitchen, the bottle clutched tightly in his hand. Whoever decided to give Wade some luck was of no concern to him.

Or so he believed.

"I didn't mean to accidentally take your groceries," you laughed, handing over a overpacked paper bag.

Stuffing the bottle under the sink, he met you halfway to the living room, his eyes drinking in the sight of you still in that dress. Still delicate enough for him to rip if he tugged it right. Heat curled along the base of his spine when your eyes met his, wide and glimmering with your laughter. He felt himself crumple at the sight of your lips parting, the surprise at his size still enough to make you speechless.

"Good to see you again," he greeted you, voice low and soft.

You didn't mean to grow flustered in his presence, but something about the way his gaze devoured you within seconds left you breathless. The swooping sensation in your stomach became too much to handle. Desire and attraction weren't unknown concepts to you. But this felt like more. You could sense him right down to your bones and it scared the shit out of you.

"Oh right!" Wade scooched past you to swing an arm around Logan's shoulders. He did what he could to not stab him in the stomach. "This is Logan. My hunky new roommate."

Logan groaned. "Alright–"

"No, no it's good. You remember when I was declared basically the savior of the universe?"

Your face screwed up in confusion. Logan had never wanted to kiss someone more.

"Marvel...Jesus right?"

"I prefer MJ. Since I've got a Peter." Wade's head whipped to the side. "Suck it Tom Holland." His grip on Logan tightened. "This walking People's Sexiest Magazine helped. We're talking big claws, abs you just want to lick whipped cream off of–"

Logan's elbow slammed into Wade's stomach—crimson slowly tinting the tips of his ears. "That's enough."

"AND the Wolverine."

Surprised etched itself onto your face even further. Until you finally regarded Logan with a look he'd seen once before. Awe. When you first met one another in the halls of the mansion, you stared at him that exact way. As if you couldn't quite believe that iconic figure the X-Men made him out to be actually existed.

He couldn't tell if he liked it. Or if he'd rather you view him as a stranger.

"Logan," he said, offering his hand to you politely. Your skin remained as soft as he remembered.

Warmth bloomed in your body at the feeling of his calloused palm overwhelming yours, the scars across his knuckles old and ancient. Yet you found yourself wanting to trace them over and over, until the sight of them seared in your mind. You fought the urge to press your lips to them, etch your own mark into his skin. Something told you he wouldn’t mind.

Logan could see the intrigue on your face—the distracted gaze he wanted to keep in place. You were still curious. Still willing to learn about him. To pick him a part with soft words and even softer touches.

"Logan," you murmured under your breath, your eyes catching his. He felt his stomach leap at the sound of your voice whispering his name. Memories flooding his mind quicker than he expected. Of mornings spent in bed, your skin pressed against his. Of nights alone in his cabin—your stories lulling him to sleep.

Everything he willed himself to forget, yet could never truly let go of.

"I've got to head back." Disappointment filled your heart at the thought of not getting a chance to talk to him more. He had yet to let go of your hand and you found you liked his touch on your skin. "I'll see you soon Wade."

"Logan will be more than happy to walk you back," Wade replied, waving drastically behind your back. "Can't have you getting hurt now can we? Right peanut?"

You smiled. "I'm just across the street."

"I don't mind," Logan cut in, glaring at Wade to shut the fuck up.

"Okay," your voice was soft. Happy.

Logan would have done anything to keep it that way.

The walk back wasn't long enough for him to explain his actions from earlier, but you seemed to be just as smart as your variant self. Shutting the building's door, you turned to him—your dress fluttering in the breeze. Logan choked on his spit at the slight peek of your ass before you pushed the skirt back down around you.

"Did you know me?" You lead him to the corner, waiting for the traffic to die down. "On your Earth."

He paused, his eyebrows pulling together, and for a moment you wondered if you asked the wrong question. Wade told you bits and pieces of what happened since you last saw him, but Logan's background wasn't a discussion you tried to seek out. All you knew was that Wade acquired a new roommate. Not even a name.

Certainly not that he was Wolverine.

"Yes," Logan muttered, glancing at the change in lights.

You started to walk. "In what way?"

His hands curled into fists—echoes of his past rising to the surface. "We were...friends. You're a professor."

"A professor?" you exclaimed, a smile tugging on your lips. "Am I a mutant?"

He nodded. "You're able to bend time. Or control it." He snorted, following your lead towards your building. "I could never understand it. But Charles did."

The walk up to your apartment was silent, your thoughts filled with the new information he'd given you. And no matter how hard you tried to picture it, you couldn't see yourself as a mutant. A powerful being that held the ability to manipulate time who just so happened to be a professor. Somehow even thinking about it made you wonder why Logan was bothering to entertain this version of you. When the better one existed on his Earth.

"You said were."

Stopping at your door, he nearly knocked into you. "Hm?"

"Were friends. What happened?"

The answer he couldn't give you. The words he wouldn't even admit out loud to himself.

He felt his heart twist as if a knife slowly carved through his spleen. "We uh..." He coughed. "You..."

"I don't have to know." Grasping gently onto his arm, you offered a warm smile he felt down to his toes. A look he hadn't seen in quite some time. Logan could picture the last day you were happy in his head. Laughing with Charles in his office as you shared dinner, working on theories of your powers late into the night.

A week before they came.

"It's good to see you like this," he breathed, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek before stopping midair. "Happy."

Your eyebrows knit together. "I wasn't happy?"

"No." What he wouldn't give to take that information back, but it was out in the open, and as always—he remained too late.

"Why?" you asked, your hand sliding down to his much to his delight.

"I made you a promise." He sucked in a breath, his body begging him to start running. You'd be better off if you never knew. If you never remembered him in the first place. "I couldn't keep it."

I'll always keep you safe.

Words he refused to say again.

How could he promise this version of you that? How could he look you in the eyes and lie again? Breaking his Earth's you would haunt him for the rest of his life. He couldn't fathom doing it all over. It would kill him.

Except you weren't the person in his mind. You weren't the mutant who hated him with every fiber of your being. You were you. A continuous surprise that left his heart stuttering in his chest each time you looked his way. An enigma he found himself wanting to unravel.

"Maybe this time around you can," you said softly, letting him go with a smile as you entered your apartment, effectively opening the wound in his heart so wide there was no saving him.

Although he now knew something he didn’t know before.

He didn’t want to be saved.

[dark-and-kawaii]

─── Depravity

cw: Corruption | DubCon | Characters Are Rated M For Mature

“Look at that,” Toji teased, watching your belly bulge slightly with each thrust, “taking my cock so deep it's reshaping your womb.” 

Prt 2.

The low hum of the afternoon conversation filled the dining room as you sat there, every nerve ending on fire. You were doing your absolute best to listen to your best friend Megumi as he chatted about his training, while his father Toji’s rough fingers traced dangerous patterns under the table. His calloused hand sliding higher and higher up your thigh, making you bite back a whimper. 

“Are you feeling alright?” Megumi, always so worried about you, noticed how your face started to flush, “You’ve barely touched your food.”

“I- I’m fi-fine,” you somehow managed to answer him, but not without your voice catching as Toji’s fingers brushed against your clothed pussy, teasing circles around your clit through the thin fabric. The bastard didn’t even pause while taking a bite of his food before answering for you.

“I think she’s just tired,” his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as his middle finger pressed harder into you, “Long day.”

You nodded weakly, thighs trembling. Your panties were getting embarrassingly wet… And no matter how hard you tried to shift away, he’d grip your thigh warning you to stay still. 

Later in the evening, as you all sat in the living room, Megumi sprawled across the armchair while you sat nervously on the couch. You thought- had hoped that earlier during dinner was a one time thing and that things could go back to normal... And when Toji walks in with a bowl of popcorn your heart settles the moment he offers you some- his eyes not looking into yours, “Take some.” 

“Th-thank you, Mr. Fushi-”

“Don’t mention it.”

The movie’s blue light flickered across the walls as your friend’s breathing grew deeper, eventually settling into soft snores… That’s when you felt Toji’s muscular arm draping across your shoulders, hand sliding down to cup your breast causing a gasp to escape those pretty lips of yours. 

“M-Mr. Fushiguro! What’re y-you-” Your protest cut off into a strangled involuntary moan as he rolled your hardened nipple between his fingers through your shirt.

“Such a naughty girl,” with one hand he swiftly pinned you down against the cushions, “Prancing around my house with no bra, teasing me with these perfect tits.” his other hand roughly groped your chest, making you arch into his touch despite yourself. 

“Please, i-” you whimpered, unsure if you were begging him to stop or continue as he yanked your shirt up, “Meg-Megumi is right there…” 

“Then you better stay quiet,” his low chuckle was dark as he lowered his head to capture a perky nipple between his teeth. Your hands wriggled in his grasp, desperately trying to fly to cover your mouth- to stifle a cry of pleasure that forced its way out.

He worked each breast until you were a flushed, writhing, panting mess beneath him. When his hand slipped under your skirt to find your soaked panties, he couldn’t help but groan appreciatively, “Such a dirty slut, getting off in front of your best friend like this… Look at him. He has no idea what a depraved little whore you are, does he? He has no clue that you want his father to fuck you so bad that you don't care where or when. How pathetic... But I'll indulge you.”

Your weak protests died as he pushed your panties aside, "N-no- n-not here! Not w-with-" You looked towards Megumi, eyes rolling back in pleasure as two of his thick fingers slid inside your tight pussy. The stretch of just two digits had you seeing stars, walls clenching greedily around the invasion. And the squelching sounds echoing through the living room, god how it all made your cheeks burn... Shameful tears welling up in your eyes as you fought not to wake your sleeping friend. 

“Please…”

Toji only laughed, curling his fingers upwards to press against the spongy bundle of nerves, “He's sleeping, baby girl, ya ain’t got anything to worry about, but if you want me to stop, just say so.” His fingers picked up the pace, “Or would you rather I fuck you right here in front of him?” 

You moaned softly, biting your lip as he leaned in close, his lips ghosting across the shell of your ear, “That's what I thought,” the pleasure building quickly, “Fuck, you're tight,” pumping them inside you, “Can't wait to feel this sweet pussy stretched around my cock.”

Your back arched off the couch, the hand holding your wrists finally letting go as your body started to shudder. Toji's mouth crashed against yours, swallowing your scream while you bucked your hips, fucking yourself against his hand as you came, soaking his hand and the cushions beneath you.

His tongue swept against yours, a kiss so dominating that you could barely breathe, let alone think. By the time he released your mouth- a wet trail of spit connecting the two of you- you were already panting, trying to catch your breath as you looked up at him with that cute dazed expression, his hand still working in and out of you. 

“look how wet you are for my cock,” he groaned, curling his fingers before pulling them out to show you, a string of slick hanging between your folds and his long fingers and knuckles.

Toji smirked, leaning down to lick the mess off his hand, “Didn’t know my son liked hanging around such a depraved whore."

When he finally freed his throbbing cock, your eyes widened at the size…His length glistened with precum, his large hand lazily stroking up and down his shaft, thumb smearing the sticky fluid over his swollen tip. 

Fuck. 

He was so much bigger than anyone you'd been with before- bigger than… Your thoughts were interrupted as he rubbed the swollen head between your folds, coating himself in your wetness, “N-No! I-I- I don't- please-! It- it won’t fit,” you whined and shook your head as he lined himself up with your entrance, “You're too big!”

Toji could only chuckle at your distress, his cock sinking slowly into your tight pussy, “funny how you keep telling me no, but yet here you are, spreading those pretty thighs for me…” his eyes darkened, “Not once telling me to actually stop…” 

Everything seemed to stop, time standing still... He was right…

You hadn’t told him to stop, not once.

Not even now.

Instead you were eagerly meeting him halfway, thighs spread wide and shaking from the initial breach... walls stretching obscenely around his girth... And then a strangled moan- the sound of you losing a game of chicken. You'd lost the battle, but it was worth it. So worth it.

It hurt- the delicious sting of being stretched, the feeling of his cock sliding into you inch by agonizing inch, splitting you open. 

“Mn'More~ Wanna be so full of you~” You cried out as soft as you could, “W-wan you to fuck me.”

And it was almost enough to make him lose control. Almost. 

“Shit. That's right. Tell me how badly you need me,” He didn't give you time to adjust, starting a brutal pace that had the couch creaking beneath you. His hands grabbing at your waist, pinning you down till your body was imprinted into the seats as his hips snapped forward, filling you completely, his cock dragging against the sensitive spot inside of you, “Tell me how good it feels,” His balls slapping wetly against you, “How good it feels to have my cock buried in that pretty little cunt.”

“Oh- oh god~ mmmn, fuck” you babbled deliriously as he pounded into your cervix, “Y-you’re stirring up m-my insides!!!” 

You couldn’t tell him how good he felt, words barely something you could focus on, but the bastard knew… He could feel the way your walls fluttered and squeezed his length, feel the way your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you,

“Look at that,” he teased, watching your belly bulge slightly with each thrust, “taking my cock so deep it's reshaping your womb.” 

Your eyes rolled back as he hit spots you didn’t know existed, pleasure building to unbearable heights. The wet sounds of his cock destroying your pussy filling your ears… And for a moment, a brief, fleeting, terrifying moment, you worried Megumi might wake up, might catch you getting fucked by his dad like a bitch in heat... Might see the way you're cumming- gushing all over the man's cock. 

As if sensing your fear, Toji's thrusts slowed- his movements growing more languid... then you heard it.

The telltale sign that someone was stirring.

Megumi groaned softly as he stretched and yawned…

Toji clamped his hand over your mouth- his body covering yours, the movement of his hips coming to a stop, leaving his cock buried deep within your velvety walls... Your hearts hammering against each other, your own pulse beating so loud it was the only thing you could hear, even over the blood rushing in your ears. You watched Megumi sleepily roll his head from side to side, eyes still closed, brows knitting together as he adjusted his position.

He was still asleep... Thank god.

The relief was short lived though. Toji didn't wait long before his hips started moving again- the pace even slower than before. He was drawing it out, relishing every thrust, savoring the way your pussy clung to his cock. 

That forbidden thrill pushed you over the edge… Your whole body trembling, eyes screwed shut and mouth agape against his hand, your thighs squeezing his hips as you came hard, squirting all over his cock and straining his couch cushions. 

“Fuck yes, milk my cock,” pace growing erratic, “suck a perfect sleeve for me to fuck.”

Terror cut through your orgasmic haze as you felt him start to swell inside you, “W-wait you can- cant! D- don’t cum in meee i’ll get pregnant!” 

“Maybe that’s what you need,” he gripped your hips bruisingly tight, “a man to fill this cunt up with cum- get knocked up with a brat of your own, huh?”

Just when you thought he was about to flood your womb, he pulled out. Thick ropes of cum painting your stomach, chest, and face. Toji pumped his length a few more times, making sure he was completely spent.

By the time he finished, you were covered in cum. Your hair sticking to your forehead, skin shiny, and glistening. You looked like a hot, dirty, wreck- the picture of sin.

He pulled out and tucked his semi hard cock back into his pants with a satisfied smirk, “I’d clean yourself up before he wakes,” leaving you laying there, legs spread, cunt still gaped and throbbing from his girth.

You just laid there, unable to move as his cum started to dry, your mind reeling. What were you supposed to do now? What would happen tomorrow? How were you supposed to face him after all this? What about Megumi? 

...The thought of Megumi had your abused cunt clenching around nothing, already aching to be filled again.

This was so wrong... but you knew you'd be back for more... 

A week later, you found yourself back at your best friend’s house... 

“Been thinking about this tight cunt all week,” Toji shoved you against the marble counter in the bathroom, his massive hands slipping under your thighs, hoisting you effortlessly into the air, pressing your back against his muscled chest, “Show me how much you’ve missed this cock.”

You bit your lower lip hard enough to draw blood as he impaled you with one brutal thrust, your walls still slick from fingering yourself earlier, thinking of him, wishing he was there-

“Such a sloppy pussy.”

He was rough, but his strong hands gripped your thighs, supporting you easily, letting his cock do all the work- hitting your g-spot perfectly. It was so cute how your legs dangled helplessly in the air~. 

“Look at you, taking it so deep,” He grunted, his pace growing rougher, harder, “My boy could never make you feel this good, could he? Too busy playing around with his shadow technique to notice how bad his little crush wants her pussy split in half like this…”

“N-No, th-that’s not- true~” you moaned, head falling back against his shoulder, his breath hot against your cheek, a low, guttural laugh sending shivers down your spine, a familiar warmth coiling in your belly.

“C’mon, don’t be shy, your body is being honest. Why don’t you give it a try?”

You furrowed your brows, you hated him. hated that he knew what you desperately wanted to keep secret, what you tried so hard to deny… But it was no use, “O-Only you can- …” you nibbled your lip, “Only you can fill me up like this~”

“That’s right,” he purred ever so darkly, “lucky daddy’s here to take care of this needy pussy properly.”

Your eyes rolled back as he increased his pace, cock churning up your insides. Drool leaked from the corner of your mouth, tongue lolling out as your walls clamped down around him.

“Fuck yeah, strangle my cock with that tight cunt.”

A loud thumb echoed as he slammed you against the bathroom wall… The sound of footsteps approaching made your blood run cold.

“(Y/N)? Are you alright? I heard a bang,” Megumi’s voice could be heard through the door, his hand rattling the handle.

You opened your mouth but no words came out, just quiet whines as his father continued to fuck you sensless. 

“Tell him you knocked over a bottle,” Toji whispered in your ear, punctuating each word with a harsh thrust, “that you’re just freshening up.”

“I-I’m fine!” you managed between short gasps, “Just- k-nocked over some.. Ah!... Stuff! Freshening up!” 

“Oh, okay.” Megumi said it with uncertainty, you could hear it in his voice… “Let me know if you need anything.”

You held your breath until his footsteps faded, then moaned loudly as Toji resumed his merciless pace, fingers digging into your thighs, cock pistoning in and out of you, hitting deep- hitting the spot that makes hearts burst across your vision.

“Such a good girl, lying to him while taking my cock.” he chuckled darkly, “That was close though… He almost saw what a whore his crush really is.” 

You came at his cruel words, squirting all over his thick shaft, walls spasming wildly, your liquid spraying the floor. 

His pace faltered for a second, and you could hear him mutter a quiet, almost awestruck, “fuck.” before fucking you through mulitiple orgasms, wanting to watch you drench his flooring even more… until your mind was completely blank.

“Fw’lease… Toji… C-can’t ta-ke any-sh’m-m-more…~” you were babbling, slurring… 

He loved how wrecked you sounded, at the way you kept milking his length, as if it were trying to suck him deeper inside, like you couldn't live without his cock. 

“You’ll take whatever I give you. You're a good girl, aren't you? Be a good girl and come on my cock one last time before I fill your hungry womb.”

Within a month you were completely broken- addicted to his cock and that large muscular body that covered yours. It didn’t matter where you were or who was around, all you cared about was the way he felt inside of you- how his cock split your insides and his hands left marks on your skin. You just wanted to please him, to show him how much you loved him.

Every day you‘d find yourself on your knees, throat bulging as he skull fucked you into mindless oblivion. Your pussy would drip constantly, aching to be filled and abused by him. 

“Please Toji~” or “Please daddy~” became your constant refrain, spreading yourself open shamelessly, “Need you to wreck my tight little cunt…” your lashes batting at him so innocently. 

The ultimate betrayal came when Megumi finally discovered your twisted relationship with his father. The look of shock and hurt on his face as he watched you finger yourself, your voice calling out his fathers name… cum leaking from your well used hole…  But you were too far gone to even notice him, too lost in the pleasure of knowing Toji would be back any minute to take care of you~ ♡

Prt 2

[rafecameronssl4t]

can u do kinda inspired by new season where Rafe finds out what Sofia did and confronts her and calls her saying get out of his house but it’s bitchy!kook!bsf!reader x Rafe where they’re kinda more than friends and she tells Rafe a lie about Sofia and he believes her and gets super mad at Sofia

Passenger Princess || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: love this idea tysm!!

Warnings: r is manipulative, slight angst

Word count: 1,583

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

“Wanna come over?” you ask, your voice casual but your eyes lingering on Rafe’s profile, gauging his reaction. He turns his head to you briefly, pausing as the car idles at a red light. Without missing a beat, he reaches over, taking your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours, rubbing his thumb gently across your skin in a way that makes your heart flutter.

But tonight, his words hit you before the warmth of his touch does. “I can’t. Sofia wants to go out later,” he says, his gaze flickering back to the road, oblivious to how your expression shifts instantly. The mention of her name is like a slap, and your expression falters instantly. You let out a scoff, the sound sharp and almost bitter.

Without thinking, you pull your hand out of his grasp and cross your arms over your chest, turning your gaze out the window. The hurt and jealousy you’ve been pushing down surge to the surface, making your chest tighten.“She’s still living with you?” The words leave your mouth more accusatory than you intend, but it doesn’t matter now.

You need him to feel what you’re feeling, to understand just how much Sofia is getting under your skin. Rafe’s eyes flicker to you, his brow furrowing slightly, but he doesn’t say anything right away. He rolls his tongue against his cheek, his gaze narrowing as he presses down on the gas pedal when the light turns green. You can tell he’s frustrated, but you want him to feel more than that.

“Y/n…” he says, the soft plea in his voice making you grit your teeth. He’s clearly trying to de-escalate the situation, but you’re not having it. His voice falters slightly when he says your name again, as if he’s unsure of how to handle you when you get like this. You don’t respond, eyes fixed on the road, even though you don’t see anything.

Your mind is consumed by the thought of Sofia still lingering in his life. “I don’t understand why you’re still with her!” you snap, turning to face him, your voice sharp with frustration. Your heart races, and you know exactly where this is going. You’ve been waiting for the right moment to make your move. Then, with a practiced vulnerability, you let your eyes soften, allowing tears to well up.

You turn your head slightly toward him, making sure he sees the hurt in your eyes. You know the exact tone to use, the one that cracks just enough for Rafe to feel guilty, to feel like he’s let you down. You draw in a deep, shaky breath, letting your eyes glisten with tears. With a careful tremor in your voice, you speak softly, like you’re letting out something painful. “After everything she did to me…”

Just as you anticipated, Rafe’s head snaps in your direction, confusion and concern filling his expression. His eyes dart between you and the road, brow furrowing as he tries to process your words. “What are you talking about?” You let the tears begin to fall, looking down as though ashamed, your shoulders subtly shaking as you pretend to hold back sobs.

“What did she do to you?” His eyes flickered back and forth from the road to your tear-streaked face, searching for answers. He was desperate, each glance showing his growing frustration and need to understand. “Y/n…” he said, his voice lower now, tinged with an edge of anger that made you shiver. “Tell me—what did Sofia do to you?”

His tone was a mix of urgency and something fiercer, like he was barely holding himself back. You continued to sob, letting your shoulders shake as you turned away, keeping up the act. Rafe’s jaw clenched, his patience wearing thin as he stared ahead, but his entire focus was on you.

~

“Hey babe, what’s up?” Sofia’s voice rings out, saccharine sweet, and it instantly makes you cringe. The way she says it, as if she’s trying to mask something, makes your skin crawl. Rafe’s eyes flicker over to you for a split second, taking in your tear-streaked cheeks, red from how much you’ve cried.

Your heart races, a cold pit settling in your stomach. You’ve made sure Rafe is in the right headspace, pushed all the right emotional buttons, and now it’s time to watch it unravel. Rafe’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as he presses the phone to his ear, his expression hardening into something unreadable.

The silence that stretches between him and Sofia is palpable. You can feel the tension in the air, the unease settling like a storm cloud. “Rafe… what’s wrong?” she coos, trying to soften the tension. You can tell she’s trying to maintain control, but you know it’s slipping. But Rafe is done. He’s had enough.

“Is it true? Is it true what Y/n just told me?” he demands, his voice suddenly low, razor-sharp. The words are a punch, sharp and deliberate, leaving no room for misunderstanding. There’s a long pause, a dangerous silence on the other end. You can hear Sofia’s shallow breathing, the way she’s stalling, trying to figure out how to save herself.

It’s almost like she’s trying to put on a mask for him, pretending everything’s fine, but you both know it’s not. Sofia’s mind races, the memories of her deal with Hollis flooding in through her mind. “Is what true?” she finally asks, her voice faltering, a hint of nervousness breaking through her usual façade. “Don’t play games with me, Sofia,” Rafe’s voice is firm now, his jaw clenched.

You can feel the weight of his anger simmering just beneath the surface, ready to burst. You watch Rafe closely, your chest tight with both anxiety and satisfaction. This is what you wanted. You wanted him to finally see her for what she truly is. And now, it’s all about to come crashing down for Sofia.

On the other end of the line, Sofia’s silence is deafening. You can almost hear her panic, her inability to talk her way out of this one. Rafe’s anger is too much, too raw. And it’s all aimed at her. Rafe can’t contain it anymore. He slams his fist against the steering wheel with a deafening sound, making you jump in your seat.

The force behind it makes the entire car shake, and his anger is now fully unleashed. His knuckles are white, his body tense with fury, and for a moment, you think he might explode. You can see the muscle in his jaw working, his anger mounting as he struggles to keep his cool. The tension in the air is suffocating, and you almost feel bad for Sofia—almost.

You got him here—you’ve got him angry at her, and it’s exactly what you wanted. “Pack your shit. Get out of my house,” Rafe says through gritted teeth, the words biting and final. His voice is low, full of rage that you can feel in the pit of your stomach. Sofia’s voice cracks on the other end. “What?” Her voice wavers, like she can’t believe what’s happening.

You can practically hear her trying to regain control, but it’s too late. Rafe scoffs, his patience wearing thin. “We’re done, Sofia. Done.” he seethes, his hand slamming against the wheel again with a force that makes the whole car jerk. You jump slightly, but you can’t help the small, satisfied smirk that pulls at the corners of your lips.

“Pack your shit and get the fuck out of my house,” Rafe repeats, his voice steady now, but laced with disgust. There’s no room for negotiation, no chance of a second chance. This is it. With one last frustrated breath, he ends the call, the click of the phone punctuating the finality of it all.

[tojiluv]

UNVEILING LOVE — uchiha clan ft. sasuke, itachi, shisui, madara, obito [imagine]

context: how would the uchiha men realize their feelings and confess to you? based on “why do you make me feel like this?"

warnings: au. fluff. gn! reader. slight ooc?

notes: this has been sitting in the dust for a while, thank sensen for this idea and motivating me. not my art above.

tags: only for @seneon <3

SASUKE UCHIHA — ❝ THE LAST UCHIHA ❞ 

Sasuke wouldn’t initially understand his feelings for you, unsure of how they differed from those of a friend to a potential lover. Knowing Sasuke, he wouldn’t confess to you due to his past mistakes and doubts about whether he could give you what you want. But that would soon change once he returned to the village and saw you hanging out with a random guy who kept making you laugh at a vendor shop. When you noticed your teammate returning, you waved at him, not realizing the glare he was directing at your friend. Before you could get a word out, Sasuke gently grabbed your arm and pulled you away, making you follow him out of the store without a chance to say goodbye. He kept walking silently until you were alone in a random alleyway, hidden from prying eyes.

“Hey! Sasuke, what was that about? Is everything okay?”

"Who was that?" he asked, his eyes focused on your delicate features that he had grown to admire. You tilted your head, confused by his question.

"Huh? Oh, you mean Lino! He’s just a friend I've been visiting," you said, not noticing how your comment made him feel a bit jealous. Sasuke kept quiet, pondering whether he should say anything or continue to avoid his feelings for you. He wondered if you truly liked him the way he liked you, fearing the possibility of rejection.

Your eyes grew concerned as you watched the stoic male avoid eye contact. “I hope you know that I… I missed you,” you confessed, shyly looking to the side as his head shot up, eyes slightly widened. “I’m just glad you’re back now, even if it's only for a little bit. I’m happy you’re okay.”

Your heart suddenly raced faster than you could maintain as the stoic male grabbed your hand, holding it lightly before gripping it firmly with warmth. You glanced up, your face warming from the contact as you witnessed a small smile appear on his face. You had always had a crush on Sasuke since you became teammates on Team 7 with Naruto and Sakura, but you always hid your feelings deep down. You doubted that you would ever have a chance with Sasuke Uchiha.

"I’m glad you missed me… 'cause I’ve missed you too," he confessed, pulling you closer as you listened intently. "I… I didn’t understand this feeling, wondering what made me feel this way until I realized it was you."

You held your breath, nothing around you capturing your attention except the male in front of you.

“I thought about you the whole time I was away,” Sasuke sighed, gathering the courage to speak his feelings. “I realized that I’ve liked you for quite some time.”

Surprise consumed you, eyes wide open at the confession. You never expected this, especially from Sasuke, who usually wasn’t the type to express his feelings. But here you were, discovering that Sasuke Uchiha liked you, apparently for a long time now. Your heart swelled as a large smile spread across your lips, gripping his hand more tightly than before. Sasuke felt all the tension loosen from his shoulders as his admiration for you grew stronger from your words.

“I've always liked you, Sasuke, for years. And I will continue to do so as long as I’m by your side.”

ITACHI UCHIHA — ❝ ITACHI OF THE SHARINGAN ❞ 

Itachi found himself in a rare moment of contemplation, leaning against the sturdy trunk of a cherry blossom tree. He allowed his thoughts to drift to a singular figure that seemed to occupy every corner of his mind: you. Closing his eyes, Itachi attempted to unravel the enigma of his feelings. When had he fallen in love with you? The question lingered in his mind like a persistent shadow.

He recalled the first time he met you, your bright eyes reflecting curiosity and kindness, a stark contrast to the darkness that often enveloped his world. At that moment, something stirred within him, a whisper of possibility that he dared not acknowledge, frustrating his inner being with the thoughts. As time passed, your presence became a constant in his life, weaving its way into the fabric of his existence. Like music to his ears, your laughter echoed in his memories, warming even the coldest corners of his heart. Your unwavering support during challenging missions, and your gentle encouragement in moments of doubt—each interaction etched itself into his soul, leaving an indelible mark.

It was difficult for him to accept a different form of love to enter his complicated heart. 

Now, under the cascading petals of the cherry blossom tree, the realization hit him with a gale force. His chest tightened, and he opened his eyes, staring at the soft pink petals fluttering around him, their beauty a stark reminder of his vulnerability. He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his emotions settle within him. 

"Why do you make me feel like this?" he muttered to himself, the question laden with confusion and a touch of exasperation.

Just then, he heard footsteps approaching. He turned his head and saw you walking towards him, your presence immediately calming the storm of his thoughts. You smiled, and he felt the familiar warmth spread through him, a warmth that he now recognized as love.

"Itachi, are you alright?" you asked, concerned.

He hesitated, his usual stoic demeanor cracking under the intensity of his feelings. For a moment, he considered staying silent, keeping his turmoil hidden. But then he realized he couldn't continue like this, trapped in his own emotions.

"It’s you," he said quietly, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "You make me feel like this." Your eyes widened slightly, surprise and curiosity flickering across your face. "What do you mean?"

He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "Every time I see you and hear your voice, I feel something I can't ignore anymore. It’s confusing and frustrating, but I can't deny it any longer. I... I love you."

The words hung in the air between you, a confession that felt both liberating and terrifying. Itachi's heart raced as he awaited your response, hoping that the feelings he'd kept hidden for so long would not be met with rejection.

You blinked, absorbing his words, and then a soft smile spread across your face. "Itachi," you said gently, taking his rough hands into your own. "I love you too."

Relief washed over him, and for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to truly smile. The complicated emotions that had plagued him began to untangle, replaced by a sense of peace he hadn't known was possible. At that moment, under the cherry blossom tree, Itachi Uchiha found solace in your embrace, knowing that he no longer had to face his feelings alone. With gentle tenderness, he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on your forehead, a silent affirmation of his love and gratitude.

SHISUI UCHIHA — ❝ THE BODY FLICKER ❞ 

The sound of clashing kunai echoed through the training grounds as you and Shisui sparred under the burning sun. Shisui's movements, usually swift and precise, seemed distracted today, his mind elsewhere. You noticed his unfocused gaze and slower reactions, wondering what could be bothering him. As you circled each other, you saw another opening and took it, landing a solid hit to his head. Shisui stumbled back, rubbing the spot where you had struck him, his expression a mix of pain and embarrassment.

"What’s wrong with you today?" you demanded, frustration clear in your tone. "You're not paying attention and using your full potential."

Shisui sighed, lowering his eyes to the ground. "I'm sorry," he muttered, avoiding your gaze. "I know I should be doing better."

Your annoyance faded slightly as you watched him. Shisui Uchiha, one of the most talented shinobi in the village, was never one to slack off during training. Something had to be seriously bothering him.

"Well, what's going on?" you asked, softer this time. "You can tell me."

Shisui hesitated, his mind racing. He had been overthinking his feelings for you for days, his thoughts a tangled mess of confusion and longing. He hadn't meant to let it affect his training, but being so close to you, yet unable to express how he felt, was driving him to lose focus.

"I... it's just..." he began, struggling to find the right words. "I've been thinking a lot lately, about... things." You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. "Things? What things?"

He took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. "About you," he blurted out before he could stop himself. "I couldn’t understand why I was feeling this way until I realized that I… I like you!"

The silence that followed was deafening. Shisui's eyes widened as he realized what he had just confessed, his face turning crimson. He hadn't meant to say it, especially not like this.

Your eyes widened in surprise, taken aback by his sudden admission. "Shisui..."

"I-I'm sorry," he stammered, backing away slightly. "I didn't mean to... I mean, I did, but not like this. I just..."

You stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Shisui, it's okay," you said gently, a smile tugging at your lips. "You don't have to apologize.”

Shisui stood up from the ground, wiping off any dirt as he avoided eye contact, his face still flushed with embarrassment. "I thought you knew," he murmured. "I don’t even use my Sharingan and barely put any power into my movements during our training sessions..."

"I just thought you were going easy on me," you admitted, rubbing the back of your head and feeling a bit foolish for not realizing the obvious signs. However, a warmth spread through you at his vulnerability, and a glowing grin appeared on your lips. "Well, for the record, I like you too."

The relief that washed over Shisui's face was palpable, his tense shoulders relaxing as he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Well, of course, you fell for my charms. How could you not?" he teased, a playful smile breaking through his worried expression.

You chuckled and shoved a hand against his shoulder. "Don’t get too ahead of yourself now. How about we continue sparring? But this time, I expect you to give it your all if you want to win over my heart fully."

Shisui grinned, feeling the weight of his unspoken feelings finally lifts. "Oh, you've got yourself a bet."

As you resumed your positions, you both couldn't shake the feeling that the sparring match had taken on a new, deeper significance. At that moment, under the fading light of the day, you both understood that this was the start of something special. The connection between you had deepened, turning a simple sparring match into a cherished memory. After the match (Shisui won), you sat together, hands linked, feeling a sense of peace and happiness, knowing that you had found something truly wonderful with each other.

MADARA UCHIHA — ❝ GHOST OF THE UCHIHA ❞

Madara Uchiha, a man known for his iron will and unyielding resolve, found himself ensnared in an internal struggle that defied his every attempt at control. His feelings for you had become a thorn in his side, a relentless source of annoyance that he couldn’t simply brush away. In an attempt to cope, he had begun to distance himself from you, hoping that the space would extinguish the unwanted emotions. However, it only served to exacerbate the situation. You noticed his sudden coldness, the way he avoided your presence and cut conversations short. Hurt and frustrated, you decided to confront him. You found him in a secluded courtyard, his back turned as he stared out at the night sky, lost in thought.

“Madara,” you called out, your voice firm. “We need to talk.”

He didn’t turn, his silence only fueling your frustration. You walked closer, refusing to be ignored. “Why have you been avoiding me? What did I do?”

“It’s nothing,” he replied tersely, still not facing you.

“It’s not nothing!” you snapped, moving to stand in front of him, forcing him to meet your eyes. “Tell me what’s going on!”

His jaw tightened, and you could see the storm brewing behind his dark eyes. “Just leave it alone,” he said, standing up from his spot to walk away.

“No,” you insisted, stepping into his path. “I won’t leave it alone. You owe me an explanation.”

The tension between you reached a breaking point. Madara’s frustration finally erupted. With a swift motion, he punched the wall beside him, cracks radiating out from the impact of his chakra. Despite the sudden action, you remained unflinching, eyes locked on his as you had anticipated this eruption from the stubborn Uchiha.

“Why do you have this effect on me?” he shouted, his voice a mixture of anger and desperation. “Why can’t I stop thinking about you? It’s infuriating!”

Your breath caught in your throat, but you pressed on, your voice softer now. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” you asked. “Why push me away?”

“Because I’m in love with you!” he roared, the confession tearing out of him. “And I hate it! I hate that I can’t control it, that you make me feel this way!”

The raw intensity of his words hung in the air, his chest heaving from the outburst. You stepped closer, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “Madara,” you said softly, “you don’t have to fight it. I love you too.”

His eyes softened, the storm within them calming. Vulnerability seeped through his usually stoic facade as he looked at you. “You... do?”

“Yes,” you replied, your voice steady and sincere. “From the moment we met after the war, I knew I did.”

For a moment, silence enveloped them, allowing his words to sink in. Then, slowly, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if afraid you might slip away. “I’ve been a fool,” he murmured against your hair, the tension in his body easing. “I should have told you sooner.” 

You wrapped your arms around him, feeling the solidity of his presence. “We’ll figure it out together,” you whispered.

In that embrace, the world seemed to shrink until it was just the two of you. Madara finally allowed himself to let go of the control he had clung to so fiercely. The future might still be uncertain, but with you by his side, he knew he could face whatever came next.

OBITO UCHIHA — ❝ THE MASKED MAN ❞

In the hidden depths of Obito Uchiha's heart, emotions swirled like a tumultuous storm, leaving him lost in a haze of confusion. Amidst the chaos of his thoughts, he struggled to decipher the true nature of his feelings for you. He watched you from afar, his heart yearning for something more, yet fearing the consequences of exposing his true emotions to the light. Each friendly gesture and shared moment deepened his uncertainty, leaving him adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions.

Day after day, he found himself drawn to you like a moth to a flame, captivated by your smile, your laughter, your mere presence. Yet, beneath the surface of his admiration, a seed of jealousy lay dormant, gnawing at his soul whenever he saw you with another man. He attempted to suppress the pang of envy that pierced his heart whenever he witnessed you in someone else's company, but the feeling only intensified with each passing day. The mere thought of someone else holding your attention, of another person eliciting the smiles he longed to see from you, was unbearable to him.

Then, one fateful day, his worst fears materialized as he stumbled upon you in the village, your laughter intertwined with that of another man's. A surge of jealousy engulfed him, threatening to consume him whole as he watched the scene unfold before his eyes, witnessing a random leaf ninja bid farewell to you.

Unable to contain his emotions any longer, the words spilled from Obito's lips in a rush of desperation and longing. "I can't stand seeing you with him!" he blurted out, his voice laced with bitterness.

You turned to face him, surprise flickering in your eyes at his outburst and undetected presence. "Obito, what are you talking about?"

Obito took a shaky breath, his heart pounding, struggling to find the right words. "I–I'm sorry. It's just... I've been confused about my feelings for you and the way you affect my entire being. And then seeing you with him... it hurts."

A heavy silence settled between them, the weight of his confession hanging in the air like a shroud. And then, to his surprise, you reached out and took his hand in yours, your touch sending a jolt of warmth through his veins. "Obito… Say it, please."

He sighed, feeling the weight of his emotions pressing down upon him like a suffocating blanket, his face burning from your intense look. “I know we're friends, and I value that more than anything, but I believe there's something more between us. And it's driving me insane because I… I cherish you deeply!”

Awaiting the sudden rejection, to his shock, you placed his hand against your cheek, your face nuzzling against his warmed palms as you graced him with the same sweet smile he had grown to love dearly.

“I've always loved you, Obito, ever since we became classmates in the academy. I knew that the boy who declared himself to be the next Hokage with those big goggles on his face was truly someone I would always admire.”

His heart skipped a beat at your words, a rush of euphoria flooding his senses as he realized how long you had waited for him. He couldn't believe his luck and fathom that the person he had been pining for felt the same way about him for so long. And as you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his in a tender kiss, Obito felt as though he were floating on air. In that moment, amidst the chaos of his emotions, he found a sense of clarity and peace, knowing that he had finally found the person who would stand by his side through thick and thin.

© 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢𝐥𝐮𝐯 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

[hvnlygrl]

hii can u do rafe cameron

can u pls do soft!rafe cameron or soft!jj maybamk where reader and him get into an argument and then he storms out and then the next morning reader gets her period, and when he comes home he just sees her lying on the bed eith a heating pad so he decides to make her a cookie skillet with nutella in it and ice cream on top of it and when he gives it to her she immediately starts sobbing and covering her face with the back of her hand telling him how shes so sorry and that she wished she never foughr with him and then he just comforts her and helps her eat while they watch a movie

i take it all back.

pairing — rafe cameron x fem!reader

word count �� 1.3k

warnings — lotta cussing, reader gets a little mean, argument between rafe/reader, hurt/comfort.

synopsis — after a fight with rafe due to your hormones during that time of the month, he goes out of his way to make you feel better.

notes — sorry i kinda went in a little bit of a different direction with this i hope that's okay! but the general idea is still the same... thank you for the request! it's such a sweet idea <3

it had never bothered you before, the sound of rafe on his game in the spare bedroom, but for some reason the loud sounds of him on the headset with his friends were driving you up the wall while you tried to watch your show in the living room. 

you sighed out in annoyance when you heard him for what seemed like the 20th time in 5 minutes, “GO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING??? TOPPER GET HIS ASS!” 

you clicked the volume up on the t.v. in front of you, head beginning to ache from the loudness of the show mixed with the loudness from the game room. you were unsure of how to handle the situation. you didn’t want to ruin rafe’s fun on the game, and you surely didn’t want to start an argument with him but you couldn’t take it anymore. 

you paused the show, stood from the couch and stomped your way down the hallway. you didn’t bother knocking on the door since you knew he wouldn’t hear it, instead opening it as soon as you reached it. “rafe,” you called out. no answer. he continued clacking at the keys on the p.c., shouting orders at topper and kelce over the headset. “rafe,” you called out again, quite a bit louder this time. still no answer. 

at this point you were fed up. you were unsure of where the blind rage came from, but before you knew it you yanked the headset from his head. 

“what the-y/n? what the fuck are you doing?” he shouts at you, his eyes flitting back and forth between the computer screen and your angered expression. 

“can you shut the fuck up, dude? i’m trying to watch my show,” you grumble at him as if it's obvious. 

“woah,” he cocks his head back at your statement, “chill out.” 

now you’re really pissed. “don’t tell me to fucking chill out!” 

“babe, it’s not that serious,” he continues clacking at the keys on the game. 

“it is that serious. you try watching your favorite show and listen to me hooting and hollering from the next room. it’s fucking aggravating and i can't take it anymore right now.” 

rafe rolls his eyes. “i don’t know what you want me to tell you, y/n, it’s really not that serious. i’m doing my thing and you’re doing yours. you don’t see me busting through the door to get on your ass about the t.v. being too loud.” 

you can hear the oohs and ruh-rohs coming from the headset, only adding fuel to the fire. 

“oh my god, dude, can you just act like a fucking adult for five minutes? you don’t have to play fortnite every single night with your gay ass homeboys. maybe you could spend time with your girlfriend instead of being on the game from the second you get home until hours after i fall asleep.” 

“that is so not true and you know it, bruh.” 

“if you’re gonna play the game and not even interact with me, then just go do it at your own damn apartment. i’m not fucking dealing with this right now. i have a migraine and i don’t want you here tonight.”

rafe can't ignore the pang that shoots through his heart at your words. “seriously? you’re kicking me out?” 

“yeah,” you mutter softly before leaving the room and heading back to the living room. cramps begin overtaking the muscles in your stomach, only adding to your agitation. you breathe out shakily, your throat beginning to tighten as you watch him grab his bag and storm out. 

once the door slams behind him, a wave of guilt washes over you, your eyes watering as you smack yourself for kicking him out. all you wanted was for him to stop being so loud and now he’s on the way back to his apartment, pissed at you for embarrassing him in front of his friends and for sending him home.

you lie down on the couch, allowing the tears to stream freely as your thoughts get darker and crueler toward yourself. you sob deeply, arms wrapped around a pillow until you finally fall asleep. 

about an hour or so later you wake up, shuffling into the bathroom, you notice your appearance in the mirror; cheeks puffy and eyes swollen from crying. the sight only makes you feel worse. you sit on the toilet, letting out a harsh sigh when you notice the blood that pooled in your favorite pair of panties. after already feeling like a piece of shit both physically and mentally, here was mother nature three days early, ready to screw you over even more. 

you couldn't help but tear up again at the inconvenience, suddenly realizing what happened tonight. you wanted to slap yourself for being so stupid and not noticing the signs, but you knew that it was too late now. after heading to your bedroom to find a new pair of underwear and shorts, and spotting the dirty pair before throwing it into the wash, you head back to the living room. 

your heart beats in your throat as you pull out your phone to text rafe. 

after the conversation with him you felt a lot better about the situation, but you were still feeling pretty upset. you rummaged through the kitchen, checking the cabinets and the fridge and freezer for any type of food that would satisfy your cravings. of course, you had absolutely nothing that would help. you sighed as you shuffled back toward the living room, opting to just lie on the couch and watch your show until you fell back asleep. 

you knew the thought was dramatic, but you couldn’t help but wonder when your life turned into this; alone in an apartment that was too big for you with nothing you wanted and no one to share it with. 

and then you heard a knock on the door. despite it being his signature knock, you couldn't stop yourself from checking the peephole, heart fluttering when you saw the blonde on the other side of the door.

you quickly opened it, a soft smile on your lips. “what are you doing here?”

“did you really think i was gonna let you be alone on night one?” rafe raises a brow at you before revealing two grocery bags he’d been hiding behind his back. he had made a run to the local store for all your favorite sweets, chips, icecream, drinks, and anything else he could think of. he even bought you a heated stuffed animal that could be thrown into the microwave and used as a heating pad.

“baby,” your lips curl down into a frown, eyes watering at the gesture, “you’re too nice to me.” 

“of course i am,” he chuckles as he sets the items down on the coffee table, “you’re my girl.” 

you watch in awe as he grabs your favorite cup, fills it with ice and pours your drink into it. then he grabs the stuffed turtle (your favorite animal) and heads to the kitchen to throw it into the microwave for a couple minutes. 

“get comfy, babe,” he calls out to you, “get your show set up, do whatever you gotta do.” 

you smile at him sweetly. “you didn’t have to do all this, rafe.” 

“i know,” he shrugs nonchalantly. “i wanted to.” 

“thank you,” you whisper when he brings the warmed turtle over to you. you moan happily when you stick it onto your lower abdomen, the sensation immediately easing some of the pain. “i don’t deserve you.” 

“sure you do,” rafe huffs as he kicks his shoes off and gets comfy next to you, “how many times have you taken care of me? saved my ass without me even thinking to ask you for help?” 

you nod, “yea, i guess you’re right. i’m sorry about what i said earlier baby, i take it all back.” 

“don’t stress,” he holds his hands up, “water under the bridge, my girl.” 

you smile at him, admiring his features before turning your gaze back to the t.v. and snuggling in closer to him. “i love you.”

“i love you,” he parrots back, hand rubbing at your lower back in the spot that he knows typically bothers you. 

-> back to masterlist

taglist — @lanasb0ngwater

[mxnhoo]

dangerous (l. hs)

✎ lee heeseung x reader genre kissing, blowing vape air into one's mouth, experienced boy x unexperienced girl trope, strawberry flavoued air, first kiss, reader has like 0 experience at all, not poofread cos a girlie just wants to write - get the idea off her head - sleep warnings ALMOST smut, vaping, nicotine (duh), hee wants to corrupt her lowk word count 905 cly's note i think this is different from what i usually write but i saw a tiktok with this idea and i couldn't stop thinking about it even during work. HENCE i am staying up to actually write it so i can get it OUF MY HEAD. i hate the thought of smoking/vaping but isn't this so hot omg. plus i've been so inactive i'm so sorry, so here's a proper fic i've written in a while (though it is short)

now playing heaven and back - chase atlantic

You breathed heavily, your eyelids heavy as you continued to stare at Heeseung, who layed below you. The room was dimly lit, the only light source coming from the lamp on your study table. You can't even explain how you got into this situation with Heeseung, your best friend — how you were sitting on Heeseung's lap, him being shirtless and just vaping in front of you. Though you've always known that he was quite literally the opposite of you, you and him remained as close friends regardless, and today you were seeing him in a different way.

Your chest moved rapidly, a new gush of unfamiliar feelings taking over you as you observed him taking another puff from his vape device. He exhaled and blew the air away from you, hitting the back of his head against the headboard afterwards, staring at you.

A strong strawberry scent took over the room, the sweetness making you want to melt into him. Despite the fact that he was the only one that was shirtless and that you were hovering over him, you still felt vulnerable, feeling unsure as to what to do next and anxious that you might fuck things up somehow.

He smirked seeing the state you were in, clearly enjoying the view of you. He was aware about how you were so naive and pure — you haven't kissed, smoked, vaped, or even fucked — and Heeseung just wanted to be there to open the new world to you. He wanted to check off every single thing off from the list, since he knew best how untouched you were. He wouldn't admit it, but he wanted to corrupt you.

He blew air up to his forehead, lifting the bangs away and he threw his head back, making himself more comfortable and showing his featuers off even more, especially his prominent Adam's apple and collarbone.

You couldn't explain it, but everything about him just felt so.. hot at the moment. You've never felt this way for anyone, but the way he was looking at you with such predator gaze, the way his exposed chest was moving up and down, the way he held his vape with his thumb and middle finger, his collarbone and neck, and even more.

"Say, you haven't fucked around nicotone like at all, right?" Heeseung questioned, his voice raspy after taking a huff of his strawberry-flavoured vape.

You shook your head and bit your lip, almost feeling humiliated that you haven't tried anything at all, and that for your entire life, you've stayed away from these things. You looked down, not wanting to meet his gaze, overthinking that he probably thought you were a loser.

He lifted your chin up with his finger, interlocking eyes with yours once again and he smirked, "Wanna take a step into my world?".

Your heart immediately skipped a beat, feeling thrilled at the thought of doing something you've always strayed away from. You stuttered, "O-okay".

He turned his neck downwards to look at you properly before flicking his middle and ring finger, gesturing for you to lean closer to him. You were already sitting on his lap as he layed down, and the closeness and warmth was driving you wild. You'd never experienced something like this before, only simple hand-holding and cheek kisses.

"I won't bite," he reassured, his voice still sounding dark, but you finally started to lean closer to him. Your hands inevitably rested on his bare chest, his chest muscles and abs feeling hard and the way he hitched his breath when you touched him didn't go unnoticed.

You were finally leaning closer to him, your hair falling forward as he nodded in approval, "Want a taste of my vape? Strawberry flavour, you'll like it". You nodded and he chuckled, bringing the vape to his mouth and taking another huff, making you slightly confused. Was he not going to hand the vape over to you?

You wanted to ask until you confirmed that he wasn't. He grabbed the front of your shirt to pull you even closer, his eyelids halfway open as he started to blow the air into your mouth. You immediately inhaled the air, tasting the sweetness of the air and suddenly feeling hot as your heart rate starts to increase.

You only stared at his lips as he blowed the vape air into your mouth, only wishing it was on yours, and he immediately noticed, immediately closing the gap between both of your mouths and smirking as he could feel you immediately snap back to reality from the sudden kiss.

He immediately pulled back, his thoughts feeling hazy as he is met with your half-fucked up face, chuckling that you were already half-spent when you did practically nothing other than share a huff and kiss for a second. "Did I take your first kiss?" he genuinely questioned, observing as you recovered from the kiss and puff.

"You did," you remained quiet before continuing, "I expect you to take my second, third and more".

"Is that a challenge?" he raised his eyebrows, clearly liking your boldness and the idea of kissing you as many times as he wanted.

"Maybe it is? Maybe it isn't?" you shrugged.

His face immediately darkened, the smirk on his face growing deeper, "I never back down a challenge". He put his hand behind your head to push you closer to him, causing your lips to clash once again.

watch out we pop out~ let's fill up some dopamine~ (if u understand ily)

[jobean12-blog]

Easy to Fall

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 2.3K

Summary: You and Bucky have been dating for a while but the tension is building and you both feel you’re ready for the next step.

Author’s Note: Love a shy and unsure Bucky! Especially when he finds his way and is just 🫠🤭and special thanks to Sam for his encouragement hehe 😏thank you all for reading! Much love always❤️❤️❤️ thank you lovely Daisy @firefly-graphics for the divider🥰

Warnings: soft sweetness, fluff, fun, flirting, tension, lots of kisses, fingering, some oral (f rec), p in v, smut

“Maybe you should have a drink or somethin’ before she comes over?”

At Sam’s sincere but pointless suggestion Bucky’s eyes lift from his phone and he just stares wide eyed.

“I wish that would help,” he says. “Maybe I should just cancel.”

“Buck,” Sam says, stepping around the kitchen island. “Don’t. You know you’ll kick yourself if you do that. You really like this girl. And it’s not the first time you’re hanging out. Why are you so nervous this time around?”

“That’s exactly it though. I really like this girl…”

Sam’s eyebrows meet his hairline. “And?”

“I’m gonna fuck it up. Things are good…really good and I think we’re ready…”

Bucky’s words trail off and Sam remains silent, expression still unsure.

“Aw Wilson come on,” Bucky says with exasperation.

At Sam’s continued silence Bucky turns spins around and runs a hand through his hair.

“We haven’t…but I think…”

When Bucky turns to face Sam again the realization finally hits. “Oh. OH!” Sam exclaims.

Bucky let’s out a defeated sigh.

Sam waves him off. “You won’t fuck it up. Just relax and have fun. Enjoy each other. Let things happen…organically.”

Now Bucky laughs. “Organically or…?”

“You said it. Not me,” Sam chuckles with his hands up in defense.

After a beat of silence and unspoken camaraderie Bucky smiles.

“She’ll be here in half an hour. Get out.”

“And there’s the Barnes I know!” Sam grins as he grabs his jacket. “Good luck!”

“Want something to drink doll?” Bucky calls out over his shoulder as you take off your shoes and drop your bag to the floor.

“I’ve got beer, water…juice boxes…”

You come up behind him in the kitchen, pressing yourself to his back and looking under his arm into the fridge.

“You have…juice boxes?”

He shrugs, leaning into you, discreetly inhaling a whiff of your scent, and closing his eyes.

“Buck? Juice boxes?”

He blinks, looking back down into the fridge and focusing on the cold air hitting his face.

“I took Mrs. Adams food shopping last night and she always insists on getting me snacks.”

“You have the nicest neighbors! Mrs. Adams is my favorite of the old ladies in your building!”

“We can invite her to our wedding then,” he teases.

You laugh and lean up to kiss his cheek. “One juice box please.”

“She also got me Oreos, ice cream and tried to get me to buy condoms when I told her I had a hot date with you.”

“Does she think you were going to get lucky tonight?”

“She likes me to be prepared,” he says lightly.

“And well stocked on snacks apparently,” you giggle.

He grabs the juice boxes and Oreos and points to the living room.

“Me. You. A scary movie.”

“I barely got through the last one,” you sigh defeatedly.

“But you did,” he says. “And remember, you can hide in my hoodie again.”

“Probably the best idea,” you say.

You sit down next to each other, arms and thighs touching, the feel burning through your clothes.

The crinkle of your straw wrapper crackles in the air and Bucky turns to you, watching as you cheekily puncture the top of the box and slide the straw into the side of your mouth.

“I love fruit punch.”

He keeps watching, his gaze fixated on your lips. Finally, he looks away from your mouth and back to the television.

“I like them all,” he says. “Sugar.”

He starts the movie, and you settle back against the couch cushions, grabbing for an Oreo. The beginning scene lights up the screen and the suspense builds almost immediately. Something jumps out and Bucky flinches and fumbles his Oreo.

“You okay there, Barnes?” you ask with a smirk. “Even I knew that was coming.”

“My mind was occupied. Lost my focus.”

You shake your head and look back at the screen. “Do I want to know?”

“Probably. But I’m not tellin’ ya.”

The movie continues and you inch closer to him until you’re resting under his arm and against his chest. Your face is half hidden in his hoodie and you’ve got a death grip on his wrist, holding it to keep his hand in front of your eyes.

“You could use your own hand you know,” he jokes.

“But yours is so much bigger!” you whine and tense when you hear the creepy music come to a crescendo.

Before anything jumps out in the movie Bucky sneakily moves his free hand toward you then shouts and pokes you in the side.

You scream and jump up.

“OH MY GOD! You did not just do that!!!

He smiles sweetly, eyes bright and full of mischief.

You reach for your empty juice box and hurl it at his face. Your eyes widen when he deftly catches it and throws it right back at you, hitting you squarely in the chest.

A beat of silence and stillness passes before you lunge for him, shoving him back on the couch before lifting a pillow and smacking him in the face with it.

Your unrestrained laughter hits him right in the chest, and he’s unprepared for your assault, cough-laughing through a flurry of your fingers digging down and tickling roughly.

He bucks up beneath you, growing more aware of your precarious arrangement of limbs, and advances toward you on the couch, swatting at your hands, and darting his fingers between your arms to tickle your ribs.

With his other hand he grabs a pillow from behind you and uses it to hit you right in the face. You shove at him hard, sending him right off the couch and onto the floor, where you dive on top of him, pinning him down, wrestling in earnest.

You’re laughing and yelling and one of you knocks the containers of Oreos onto the floor and it crumbles under you leg when he rolls you over to hover above, getting the upper hand.

He finds the place on your waist that, when prodded with a long finger, makes you cry out in hysterics.

His fingers dance up your sides and under your shirt, the feel of your warm skin only egging him on until his fingertips brush the lace edge of your bra.

At the same time, you both seem to realize that he’s over you, lying completely on top of you, situated between your legs with his hand up your shirt and, in unison, you both freeze.

You have two tight fistfuls of his shirt in your hands and your eyes travel the slow path from where his hand is hidden up to his face.

Your breath catches and you let your legs slide up over his hips. Your body gives beneath his and he’s suddenly intensely aware of the soft warmth between your legs and the press of your curves against him.

“Doll?” he murmurs.

You suck your bottom lip into your mouth to stop from smiling.

He presses forward, not much but just enough to feel more. Your lips part and you watch a pink blush creep up his neck and onto his cheeks.

“Bucky.”

“Fuck,” he growls, bending and pressing his mouth to your neck as he starts to rock against you.

He nearly comes at the sound you make, soft and restrained.

“Kissing you again is all I could think about since our last date,” he admits as his lips trail along your neck.

“Just kissing?” you ask, nearly breathless.

He smirks and kisses you again. A kiss you feel from the place where you lips meet to the tips of your curling toes.

When he pulls away and sits up you mourn the loss of him, but then he falls back down onto the couch and takes you with him so you’re straddling his lap.

His hand slips between your legs to rub you over your leggings, going slow enough that he can check in with you, his expression soft but his eyes heated.

You tilt your head and brush your lips to his, moaning when he rubs small circles right where you need it.

“I…” he starts, his breathing heavy as he slowly slips his fingers inside your pants.

“Please Bucky.”

It’s all he needs to hear as his fingers stop teasing and dip between your legs, sliding into your panties to where you’re ready and wet.

He takes your hand and holds it over his cock, and rocks into your palm. You can see the shape of him beneath the denim of his jeans, long and pressed against his stomach.

A wave of heat flashes beneath your skin and you grab for the bottom of his shirt, lifting it up and over his head. His mouth meets yours and he drags his teeth over your bottom lip.

His fingers push deeper, and you arch into him, his satisfied hiss swallowed by your mouth. Your hands fall to his jeans, and you work open the button and pull down the zipper, reaching in and wrapping your hand around him.

“Oh god.”

He slumps against the back of the couch and watches, his darkened blue eyes dragging from where you’re touching him to where he’s touching you.

His cock is perfect, just like the rest of him.

“Pants off,” you breathe out. “Please.”

You lift up and wait while he shoves them down his thighs. Before you can sit on his lap again he grabs your hips and pins you in place in front of him, hooking his thumbs into the fabric at your waist and slowly peeling it down your legs.

“Fuck baby doll. Look at you.”

Everything in you catches fire when his fingers slide up the inside of your thigh and he sucks in a breath-you’re skin is wet and glistening-and looks at you like you’re a meal and he’s deciding what to eat first.

He makes a guttural sound, and it vibrates down to your bones when his eyes meet yours. His fingers slide over you, dipping inside and teasing. His other hand smooths along the curve of your ass and he pulls you closer, kissing your stomach and then lower, where he licks softly, his nose a soft brush against your skin.

Your hands fall to his hair, and you tug hard, eliciting a moan from the back of his throat. Your stomach begins to tighten, and you whisper his name, giving his head a light push.

“I want to come with you inside me,” you purr.

He licks his lips and reluctantly leans back against the couch, gripping his cock and calling you closer with a crook of finger then guides you over his lap again.

He leans in and tugs off your shirt, kissing along your collarbone and down to your breasts, teasing your nipple with his teeth and moaning around it.

You sink down slowly, and he sits back against the cushions to watch where he’s disappearing inside you.

“Doll.”

You move over him, slowly.

“Fuck you look incredible.”

His hands settle on your waist, gripping softly but strong enough to keep the rhythm. He kisses you like he still can’t believe he’s doing it, and you adjust the position of your knees and you both gasp as you bottom out, your ass coming to rest on his thighs.

“Oh Bucky,” you moan, pressing your face to his neck while you catch your breath.

His palms smooth along the curve of your spine and down to your waist and he presses his fingers into your hips, rocking you faster then slow again.

“I want you in my bed,” he says through a grunt. “I want to spread you out under me. I want to kiss and feel every inch of you.”

He sits up, nips at your neck before sucking gently. You kiss for what feels like forever and your movements narrow into small rocks forward and back, just feeling him inside you. You try to keep it together when he reaches down, and his thumb starts moving in practiced circles over your clit.

Your hands dig into his hair, steering his mouth back to your breasts and watching as he captures your nipple with his tongue. He bares his teeth, sliding them over the sensitive flesh and you cry out, feeling him twitch inside you.

The tightening in your belly builds and he’s watching you, watching the way you move together and the place where your bodies connect. You follow his gaze and look down, the way the muscles in his stomach clench, where the beads of sweat have collected in the dip where his dog tags lay. You circle your hips, and he groans, tightening his grip where he holds you.

“Fuck baby. Do that again.”

You do, moving over him and using the back of the couch for leverage. He throws his head back.

“I’m so…I’m…” he says between gasps of air.

His fingers return to your clit with renewed enthusiasm and with each rock of your hips and each thrust of his the cord around your spine tightens until his name is spilling from your parted lips.

He presses up into you, hard and fast and over and over until he’s coming with a long, helpless groan against your shoulder.

With such softness it steals your breath, he reaches up and cups the back of your neck, bringing your lips to his and whispering, “stay with me tonight.”

[chuusmuts]

imagine innocent!kabukimono being needy

smut(?) afab reader (mentioned of tight walls), needy kabukimono, male masturbation, corruption (kabukimono).not proofread.

you can see this as part two of kabukimono finding out you lactate (where he found out about sex/ read a book about it) or another version of innocent kabukimono going wild. kinda want to make this a series, ngl.

when he opened the door to your room, he expected you to be in your room, but he was greeted with silence. he suddenly hit the realization that you were supposedly out to buy some grocery. this scent in your room, it's your scent. he missed it so much, he missed your scent, he missed you. you were just here a few minutes ago, how could he has had miss you so bad already?

he sighed, realising you would be gone for a while. he hated when you were away, even if it was only for a little bit. he needed you here with him, always. he sat down on the floor near the door, resting his head against it. his heart raced at the thought of being alone, it reminded him when he was being thrown away. he wanted to be with you, hold you, touch you, kiss you. but most importantly, he wanted to be held by you. he didn't know what else to do but wait for you to come back home. he tried to calm himself down, he couldn't let his emotions control him.

his eyes roamed all over your room as he missed your presence, and eventually, his gaze fell on a book beside your bed. out of curiosity, he got up and took a look at the book. a book about... oral and sex? what even is that? he'd never heard of it. the cover of the book was very erotic, it's a picture of a man pounding himself into a woman's pussy. since he was an innocent puppet, he was clueless about all of this, but at the same time, he felt like getting to know about this thing called 'oral' and 'sex'.

kabukimono looked at the book with his eyes widened in confusion. he had no idea what oral and sex meant, he didn't even know what a vagina was. out of curiousity, he grabbed the book and flipped through it, feeling both intrigued and uncomfortable. he felt his face heat up as he read through the pages, it was all just too much for him to handle. he started to feel nervous, unsure of whether he should keep reading or not. nevertheless, he continued to read, trying to make sense of everything he saw and read as he was still puzzle about it.

ultimately, he stopped at a page whereas the top of it was written 'how to pleasure yourself when you're missing them'. wasn't that... what he's feeling right now? he missed you so much he felt like dying. but the question was, what's this thing called 'pleasure'? he read this thing so-called masturbation and as he read further, he began to feel a stirring in his lower region. this was all so new to him, yet he found himself wanting to learn more, his inquisitiveness got the better out of him. he had no idea where he was going with this, but he felt like he needed to do something, something toward his cock. should he follow the instructions and actually try to do it?

his hands trembled as he read the next paragraph, which explained how to perform a self-handjob. he felt his cheeks turn red as he read as he felt embarrassed and nervous. he wondered if it was normal for people to masturbate. the fact that he was reading and thinking about doing it made him feel dirty, but he wanted to know if it would really make him feel better or if it would help him forget about his loneliness. glancing down at his crotch, he saw how his cock was starting to become erect. this was all so strange and foreign to him since he'd never experienced this, but he decided to give it a shot. he took off his boxer and noticed the tip of it was already leaking with precum; a clear, colorless, viscous fluid that is emitted from the urethra of the penis during sexual arousal, was what it was written in the book. placing one hand on his cock, he gently stroked it, trying to figure out what exactly he was supposed to do.

step one, find your stroke. it said in the book, to get things started, use your hand to find a rhythm you love. and so, he continued stroking his cock in a slow pace. the longer he stroked it, the more he felt like groaning as his breathing got heavy. he must has had found the rhythm he loved. as he masturbated himself, his gaze fell on your picture that was hanging on the wall, and it only aroused him more. his heart pounded even faster as he unconsciously started to call out your name, groaning and moaning. it felt so good, so amazing that he began to visualize you were the one who was giving him the handjob. he imagined your voice, your soft touch, your gentle caresses, and the way you'd look at him with your cute and gentle smile.

the sensation was incredible, unlike anything he'd ever experienced. he felt like he was melting inside as his body shivered with pleasure. he kept stroking faster and harder, not realizing how much he was moving his hips and how loud he was becoming. the sound of his voice filled with need and desire grew louder and louder, filling the silent room. he called out your name, begging for you to return and hold him, to touch him, to make him feel good. he was lost in the moment, completely unaware of the world around him. he was only focused on the pleasure he was feeling and the fact that he needed you to be there with him.

he continued to follow the instructions as he next rubbed and squeezed his balls. they were (not) surprisingly very sensitive to him and packed with nerve endings. he rubbed them gently with one hand while the other maintained a stroke on his penis. at last, he placed the book aside when he felt he could masturbate himself without guidance.

at one point, he could barely breathe properly, and his whole body tense and started shaking. "ngh... ah... y/n..." he threw his head back and opened his mouth wide as he kept moaning, tears welling up in his eyes, feeling the urge to cum. "need you so bad... i miss y– ngh..." his bangs sticked to his forehead and his neck was shining, glistening as a bead of sweat rolled down while he speeded up the pace and kept squeezing his balls. "w– wanna fuck you... fuck..."

he could feel the muscles in his pelvis tighten and contract as he neared his climax. his cock throbbed and pulsed against his palm, the sensations growing stronger and more intense. he could feel his entire body shake as a stream of precum dripped down the length of his cock. his breathing became ragged and uneven, and his heart raced as he struggled to maintain control. he couldn't hold it in anymore, and finally, he screamed your name, his voice echoing throughout the room, his body convulsing and twitching. he came hard, his cock pulsing and spurting with a hot, sticky fluid.

the hot liquid dripped from his tip onto his thighs, pooling the sheet beneath him. the feeling of cumming was so good, but it wasn't nowhere near enough. oh, how he badly wished it was you who made him cum. he collapsed on the bed, smelling your sweet scent, and all he could think was having your tight walls around his cock as he fuck you dumb. he couldn't wait till you come back to relieve his needs.