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#v; like a hole in my head
estarion · 2 months
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WHAT TYPE OF VILLAIN ARE YOU?
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PURE EVIL.
you are unapologetically evil, you are likely just here for the drama and the theater of it all. you are selfish and cruel because you want to be, not because you had no other choice, but because you revel in the opportunity to do what is wrong. that's not to say you will commit every unspeakable act, perhaps you have standards and your own moral code, but by no means are you the good guy in your own mind. those who have wronged you, no matter how trivial or petty the slight against you, will be treated without mercy and you will be cackling the entire time without a hint of remorse. you enjoy the most painful and twisted approach to getting your revenge. above all else, you like to cause problems on purpose.
TAGGED BY: no, i jacked this from my friend @warwaited 500 years ago TAGGING: tags ... tags ... tags. this bitch → @fallesto
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safyresky · 21 days
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Grand Tour
Part I
"Pygmys."
"Pygmys?"
"Pygmys. They're fascinating little creatures!" The Prince tapped the glass of the jar he held in his hand. A fluffy little spike ball jumped a bit, spindly legs going wide as it ran all over the jar. "They travel in a big cloud and wreak havoc. They don't mean to, of course. They're just surviving. As we all are. But they do have a tendency to clump and stick to things and they do not come off that easy. We don't have these at the castle! The name is most definitely localized. It'll be exciting to study these closely and—"
"WAIT. THEY WHAT?"
The Prince frowned, turning around and shouting back at the farmer's fields. "THEY STICK."
"OH. WELL THAT EXPLAINS A LOT." The other Prince came around the corner of the farmer's shed, hopping on one foot, covered in pygmys. "Great news, Pyros, Jeremiah. I think I got them all."
"And they're going to eat right through your armour, Blaise. Marvin's going to kill you, you know."
"Not if my twin brother helps me out before then!"
Pyros tried very hard to look stern. He really, really, did. But they'd been travelling cross country for almost a month now and he was feeling quite good being away from home and Blaise looked really very funny with that monstrous big grin of his and he was going to be able to study a creature he could never get his hands on all cooped up inside the castle, so the smile did not slip out so much as it did explode across his face. He laughed to himself, waiting for Blaise to hop right beside him before summoning his staff. Mumbling to himself, he drew a few shapes around his brother, tapped the jar-ed pygmy with the top of his staff, and, once the jewel glowed, tapped the tip of Blaise's armoured foot. The Pygmys flew right off him.
"There we go! Better?"
"Much," Blaise grinned, summoning his own staff. Quickly drawing a circle in the ground he struck his staff in the middle of it. The Pygmys suddenly stopped bouncing around and were pulled into the circle, light stretching up around the perimeter and successfully trapping the sticky little fuzzy creatures within.
"Hmm. Nice. Think that'll hold for the night? I should be able to figure out how to dispose of them by the morning."
"Yeah, it'll hold. And we could always just. Y'know. Relocate them. We don't need to destroy them."
"Blaise, they're pests."
"Maybe they're useful somewhere else! Away from the crops and groves and what have you—"
"AHH! Your HIGHNESSESS!!"
Pyros looked appalled. "Is he calling the both of us? Really?"
Blaise snickered. "Hey, Marvin!" he said, eye contact with Pyros unbroken.
"No no no no NO don't you HEY MARVIN me, Prince Blaise. LOOK at the STATE of the two of you!" The angry drow thrust his hands out at them, face a deeper than usual shade of purple as he caught his breath. "Your armour is COVERED in some sticky substance and WHERE are your surcoats? Tippet? Robes?" He whirled, glaring at Pyros now, arms on his hips. "And YOU, Prince Pyros. WHERE is your ARMOUR?"
Both boys protested, both insisting they did not need the bits they were missing.
"Look, Marv, I've got the armour and Pyros has the robes and surcoats and royal colours so I think we're fine. I mean, between the two of us you have a whole dressed prince!" He grinned, throwing his arm over the drow's shoulders and bringing him in close.
The drow gulped, ducking a bit to avoid the fiery mess that was Prince Blaise's hair. "Your parents will have my head if I don't keep you shipshape and safe and that INCLUDES properly armed AND clean!"
"Marvin, please," Pyros said, raising a hand to placate. "Between the two of us, we'll be fine. We're both nearly masters at the warlock craft—some of us more so than others—and we do have our innate summer sprite lineage at our disposal as well."
"Which some of us excel in, more so than others."
"More so than others—"
Blaise stuck out his tongue with a very immature mlem.
Pyros returned the favour in kind, with a MLEM of his own.
"BOYS! This is really very unbecoming of the both of you—"
Pyros rolled his eyes as Blaise waved carelessly in the air with a very passionate, "Pish, posh."
"What? Pish posh?" Pyros looked perplexed. "Really? Where on Earth—"
"Winter."
"Of course."
"What? It's a fun turn of phrase!"
"You know, you are smitten with that season—"
"BOYS."
"Marv."
"Marvin."
Marvin closed his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. He inhaled deeply. Exhaled. Pressed his fingers together one by one before opening his eyes. "Prince Blaise. Prince Pyros. I really must insist—"
"We're fine, Marvin! Really. Look, I'll clean the sticky off in a snap!" And he did just that. Blaise snapped his fingers, the sticky residue left from the Pygmies peeling off of his armour and disappearing into thin air, the armour itself looking freshly polished. "Boom."
"You still aren't wearing—"
"And I'm not going to! Just like Pyros isn't going to wear the armour!"
"It'll only impede my evening's work."
Marvin wrinkled his nose. He looked like he wanted to protest. "Fine. If you insist."
"And oh but we do!"
"Really and truly. I assure you, we will be just fine. You're dismissed, Marvin."
"Yeah, go enjoy the sights! We don't get to go out often, y'know."
Marvin's nose somehow wrinkled even more. "Very well."
Hands still clasped, he turned on his heel and headed back towards the royal entourage, immediately barking orders and dispersing them throughout the town.
"He's going to kill us."
"Oh yeah. One of these days, for sure. But that's a problem for later! For now, you've got fuzzballs to study, and I've got several other tenants to check in with. Unless you want to join—"
"Absolutely not, thanks. Jeremiah, if you wouldn't mind directing me to your local castor? Prisma, I believe is the name?"
"Sure, your highness. Big tower up the street. Very purple. Can't miss it."
"Much obliged. Blaise, I believe we'll have to stay overnight."
"I'll get Marv on it."
"Shout if he tries to kill you," Pyros said, heading down the path.
"He'll shout louder!"
Pyros laughed, turning at the gate and heading up the street.
Blaise watched him go, chuckling to himself. "Ah. I'd say poor Marv, but he makes it too easy. Anything else you need our assistance with, Jeremiah?"
"Well, there is one thing. It's not so much an assist more so as it is a concern. I'd take it to an audience day but uh, I don't often make it up your way."
Blaise smiled warmly. "Sure. What's up?"
"Well, ah. Your Majes-ah, Highness. Sorry, sorry. I mean no offence, I just—the titles—I—"
Blaise held up a hand. "Don't worry. Just Blaise is fine."
Jeremiah paled. "Are you certain?"
"The only people who care about titles are the King and Queen and Pyros and Marv and they are all not here so yes, I'm positive."
The magibean gulped. "Well, ah, Blaise." The corners of his mouth twitched; Blaise grinned. "I hope you don't take offence to this—"
"Why would I?"
"It's about her snowiness. I don't want to impose or, or suggest anything bad or untoward or—"
Blaise tensed. "Is she okay?"
"Ah, I imagine so, yes. I've not heard anything otherwise. It's just...the crops have been freezing."
"Pardon?"
"Every morning I've woken up and the crops have been lightly frosted. I would've attributed it to the East's natural tendency to frost over, on occasion, but that seemed illogical given the time of year...and then I saw her."
"Who?"
"The Season."
"Winter."
Jeremiah nodded. He wrung his hat in his hands, swallowed with an audible gulp. "Um. Every night. Around the same time. She appears just on the edge o'er there," he gestured vaguely to the farthest reaches of his fields. "She lingers for a bit. And then leaves. And every time I go out afterwards, everything is frosty. And it lasts through to the morning. It melts with the sun, but the frost isn't good for the crops and I can't afford any loss—"
Blaise held up a hand. The farmer stopped abruptly, his heart racing, breathing heavily.
"Have you talked to her?"
"Talked? To a SEASON?" Jeremiah blanched. "I'm just a mere farmer, I could never—"
"She's very friendly. Frosty exterior aside."
"Well, Prince Blaise, if it's not out of turn for me to say...you can interact with her. I cannot."
"Why not? I'm sure she'd stay and chat. She's one of Mother Nature's seasons, she won't ignore you if you have a concern—"
The farmer cleared his throat. "Castes, Your Majesty. Ah, Highness. Sorry."
"Blaise. Just Blaise."
"Right. Well. Being what you are—"
"A sprite?"
"A prince."
"Oh! Oh. Right."
"You travel the same circles as her, as it were. It's normal for you to just. Walk up to a season and talk to her. But not for farmers like me."
Blaise's shoulders dropped. His hair died down. "Oh."
"I'm sorry, Blaise, I didn't mean to—"
"Ah, don't worry about it!" He perked back up, the brief moment of sadness gone as fast as it came on. It was enough to give Jeremiah whiplash. "Every night, you said?"
Jeremiah nodded.
"Perfect. Tell you what. If you wouldn't mind running over to Marv and letting him know as fancily as possible that Pyros and I have decided to stay the night here, and to make preparations. Y'know. Station guards wherever, find us some nice lodgings—"
"Oh! Okay, sure! So something like," he cleared his throat, straightening his posture and holding his hat behind his back. "The Princes have decided to stay overnight. Prince Blaise has asked me to ask you to make whatever preparations you see fit to, and to procure lodgings for them for the night. Like that?"
"PERFECT! Thanks, Jerry." Blaise clapped his arm, grinning. "And while you do that, I'll gather up the rest of the Pygmys for Pyros, and tonight I'll stake out your fields! If Winter comes by, I'll talk to her and see if I can figure out the frost for you."
Jeremiah brightened. "Really? You'd do that?"
"Of course! Why wouldn't I?"
"It's just...you're so hands on! The King isn't. We usually have to wait a few days before the appropriate measures are taken for various issues. You and your brother tackle them right away! It's not—it's unexpected. And, um, to besmirch the character of a Season in front of a royal?"
"Besmirch?" Blaise laughed. "Nah, you're just concerned, is all. And I appreciate you telling me. I'll get it sorted, don't you worry. I'm sure it's nothing."
Jeremiah nodded. "I'm sure you're right."
---
Lodgings set for the night and Pyros hard at work with the local castor, Blaise set himself up at the farthest reaches of Jeremiah's fields, watching the sun fade and the night creep in. The sky was clear as can be, a crisp chill in the air if his visible breath was anything to go off of.
Stars shone brilliantly. Blaise lay between the wheat stalks, hands behind his head, watching the stars as the night grew later still. Hair out, he was surrounded by darkness, enjoying the rare moment of silence and beauty.
Sure, they had stars at the castle. But it was never completely dark. There were always lanterns lit and soldiers marching about, armoured heavily compared to Blaise. There was so much world beyond the castle, and he loved the quarterly outings the King and Queen had the pair of them undertaking, despite knowing full well the reasoning behind it.
After all, he and Pyros were approaching eighteen-hundred. They were well past the age of majority and neither ruler had deemed who would be next in line yet, and it was coming up fast. It was obvious to him that they were trying to keep the two of them out of the way of their decision making. Especially with how Pyros kept asking. And how he himself kept not asking. In fact, Blaise was avoiding the topic entirely. It was clear as the night sky to him that they'd been sent out to give the King and Queen a break, or to test the pair of them, or maybe even both.
He tried not to think about it too much; tried not to bring it up. Pyros got all weird about it, and he'd missed his brother lately. See, going into the advanced studies with the Queen had been...
Intense.
Yeah.
It was intense.
Pyros had doubled down his already double-downed practise and study routine and they didn't get to hang out as often anymore. Not until they'd been assigned to do these outings. And Pyros had been all weird at first, but as their time out grew, his weirdness seemed to disappear, and things felt almost normal which was a very nice change as things were feeling very not normal back at the castle as of late and Blaise Did Not Care For It.
Deep breaths, he told himself. We're not home right now. We're out and about. Just enjoy the night. And also maybe keep an ear out, like you told Jeremiah you would.
His breathing evened out (he hadn't even realized it'd started speeding up) and he cast his gaze back up at the sky, watching the stars twinkle as the planet turned, the cosmic dust coming into view high above him. He sighed, smiling up at the sky, when suddenly a pale, round face obstructed his view, white tendrils of hair framing her flushed cheeks, blue eyes lit up.
"Beautiful night, isn't it?"
"It just got even prettier, if you'll believe it."
She snorted, her head snapping back up—but not before Blaise caught the silly little grin. With one of his own, he sat up, staring up at the season before him.
"Ever the flatterer."
"You love it."
"I don't recall saying that."
Blaise smirked, bringing up a knee. He rested his elbow on it, holding his head in his hand. "You don't need to."
A delicate hand came up, blocking her mouth as she let out a little laugh.
Armour clanking, Blaise stood up, blinking briefly when he realized she was a lot farther down than he remembered.
"Why are you so small?"
She snorted. "I believe it's because you have gotten tall. Er. Still. I'm going to throw out my neck at the rate you're going, Blaise—er, your highness."
"No need for that! It's just us, Winter."
"Oh! Good! In that case!" She shifted, adopting her regal stance, folding her hands in front of her dress. "Blaise. What on Earth are you doing laying in the fields this far east and this late at night?!"
"Waiting for you, actually."
The Season flushed, her posture relaxing. "Oh! That's sweet. Unless I'm in trouble, of course." She paused for a moment, curiosity overtaking the flush. "You'd sneak out for me?"
"I mean, if you asked, probably! But I'm not sneaking around. It's, uh, the quarterly check in."
"Already?"
"Well, it has been three months since the last one."
"Good heavens. Time certainly flies, doesn't it?"
"It would seem so, but you know, I've never asked. Does he?"
"You know, I'm not quite sure! I've never thought to ask either. Perhaps Mother knows?"
"Maybe. You should ask her."
"I'll forward that to management. Right! Now then! You haven't answered my question. What are you doing laid out in the fields this late at night?"
"Waiting for you."
She blinked, dumbstruck. "You were serious?"
"Well, yeah!" Blaise chuckled. He ran a hand through his hair, sparks trailing behind him as it lit up. He took a moment to admire the way the firelight played on her face. There were angles at play, breaking through the childhood roundness. He wasn't the only one who'd grown, it seemed.
"Blaise? Earth to his highness? You there?"
"Yes! Right." He cleared his throat. "Jeremiah—the tenant who lives here? He had a bit of a concern he brought up earlier today when we rolled into town. Apparently his crops are frosting over every night, and though it melts during the day, he's concerned about the long term exposure effects. He thought it was you doing it. Says you've been stopping by every night?"
"Indeed I have! But not for the reason he thinks. Actually, this is great timing because I have a concern to raise with you."
"Oh?"
"It's about Jeremiah's crops. They're frosting over!"
Blaise snorted. "You don't say?"
She nodded, giggling quietly to herself. "Come along, your highness. I'll show you. Right this way!" And without waiting for him to reply, Winter grabbed his hand and led (dragged) him to the corner of the field Jeremiah had pointed out earlier that day. She pulled him down, the pair squatting in the stalks, staring at the wheat. She let go, keeping her hands above her shoulders and maintaining eye contact. "See how my hands are way up here?"
Blaise nodded.
"Right. Well. Look at the wheat."
Blaise did, and immediately found himself frowning as frost crept over the sheaths, tickling the very tops of the plants and settling in for the night. It stretched on, right through the entirety of the field. He glanced back over at Winter: hands still up; no obvious magical signature showing. He felt the magic in the air around them. Her magical signature was not pulling at the threads.
It wasn't her.
"So that shouldn't be doing that."
"What's worse is it won't listen to me."
"What?"
"Watch."
Winter stood up, the heads of the wheat tickling her elbows. Her hands took on a white glow as she pulled them back, and the frost stayed perfectly comfortable on the spikes of the wheat. She gestured towards it violently, the white glow gone, the most frustrated pout on her face. "See?"
"That's really weird. I thought all frost and snow and wintry stuff listened to you?"
"Ah, but even we seasons have our limits. Sometimes nature takes its course and we let it do so. Mother Nature says that perhaps this is one of those times; perhaps nature is trying to tell us something."
"So why doesn't she just tell you straight up?"
"I think she's using it as a lesson. Anyway, I've started my nightly rounds here every day for the past few weeks, trying to see if I can make the frost go away, but nothing I do seems to work! So I looked closely at the pattern, and though the frost is mirroring the shapes of the wheat, there's a slight little group of curls that look quite similar to the pattern that usually resides within the frost in the Snowy Lands to the North of here."
"But it would only be doing that if the crops were on Northern holdings."
"Precisely. I think the current land holder is committing a spot of encroachment. I haven't had a chance to look further into it, but given the facts..."
"It seems likely the land Jerry's using for this year's harvest is actually in the North and not the East."
"Exactly. And I don't think Jerry knows this! I think the Lord here is trying to keep it on the down low." She squinted for a moment. "Leo? Zeo? Neo! That's the one. Bit of a prick, if I recall correctly."
Blaise snorted. "Checks out. He's always complaining about his holdings when we host court." Blaise rubbed his chin. "If he's trying to gain more land, he'll want to do it quietly and carefully. The royal surveyors are the best at their jobs. It would take quite a bit to trick them."
"Precisely. And! We are fairly close to the border right now! The town beyond here is a hub where denizens from both the North and East meet up, do business, and so on. If you played your pieces right, it could be a fairly easy point to start growing your holdings illicitly. Especially since the North is so sparsely populated."
Blaise continued to rub his chin. "That's a hefty accusation."
"Indeed. But it has merit. If you look at the other half of the field, the one that's closer to his farmstead, the crops there are all fine. Not a single bit of frost on there."
"Hmm. Interesting." Blaise stopped rubbing his chin. "I suppose I should go take a look." He smiled softly at her and held out an arm. "Walk with me?"
Winter blinked up at him in surprise. "Oh! Ah, certainly."
She carefully grabbed his arm, her cool touch frosting the burnished metal of his armour. Careful to weave between the rows (least they accidentally crush the wheat), they made their way over to the other side of the fields, where sure enough, not a smidgen of frost graced the stalks.
"See?"
"Huh. That's...okay. I mean. It's not okay, obviously, but I didn't think "land stealing conspiracy" would be on the list this fast."
"But you expected it?"
"It wouldn't of surprised me. At any rate, I'll have to work on this after the check in." He rubbed his chin again. "And I'll have to figure something out for the short term."
"Perhaps, in the interim, there's something I can do to help? I'm sure one of my sisters can move the wheat consequence free while you get this sorted. This way Jeremiah doesn't have any loss? Lady knows what Neo would do if he knew we were on to him."
Blaise's hand stilled. "Oh? You think your sisters would be able to do that?"
"Oh, please. They have this very strange soft spot for me. They would quite literally do anything for me."
"Even Spring?"
"...sometimes. And if not, I can be, ah, very persuasive."
Blaise laughed. "I believe it. Are you feeling okay?"
"Quite all right. Why do you ask?"
"Your hair is melting."
She flushed, her free hand reaching up and touching her very thawed roots. "Oh! Well. That happens sometimes."
"Oh?"
"Yours is literally on fire. And I've been near you for a good moment now."
"I see," Blaise replied. (He did not, in fact, see).
"I'm sure you do. Now, you don't think it's too late to talk to Jeremiah, do you? I'd like to apologize to him and let him know one of us seasons will be on it post haste. He and his family are probably asleep, though, aren't they?"
"We'll go take a gander. He said he'd been seeing you these past few nights, so I wouldn't be surprised if he was still up."
"Very well." Winter tightened her hold on his arm. "Lead the way."
Seconds after they came into view of the small house, Jeremiah popped out the back door, clicking it shut quietly behind him, candle in his hand. "Your Highness! And Your Snowiness!" Frazzled, he bowed twice, his hair nearly catching fire.
"Oh, no need for formality, really. It's much too late in the night for that. And pardon my intrusion. I hope I didn't wake you?"
"No, of course not your, uh. Season-y-ness."
"Just Winter is fine, please. Don't fret. Sorry for the crop fright. I've touched base with Prince Blaise," she gestured towards him, as though her hand wasn't still looped around his arm. "And we think we've figured out the issue. It's all a little hush hush right now, and we'd both appreciate your discretion."
"Of course. Whatever you need."
"Now! In the interim! About your crops! Unfortunately I cannot control the frost that seems to have made itself cozy in your fields. But! My sisters can control the wheat! I'll talk to them and we'll be by in the next week or so to move the crops over to a portion of land that is not being assailed by frost."
"Oh, well, that sounds nice and all, but the unplanted fields are to remain fallow this year, y'know, to replenish the soil and the. And the like." He scratched the top of his head nervously.
"Oh, I'm familiar with the idea, yes. Of course, my sisters are more well versed in it and my mother is, of course, the expert. We can take care of replenishing the soil just this once while we work on the frosty problem back there."
"Really?"
"Of course! Our duty is to maintain balance and help the people, sir. You are one of those people."
"But I'm just a farmer—"
"Ah, pish posh! You are a denizen of Crystal Springs same as any of us, castes be damned."
Blaise guffawed. Jeremiah blanched.
"Does that work for you, Jeremiah? And would your highness be alright with this arrangement?"
"I believe Jeremiah's fields actually supply the castle, too, so yes, absolutely. This'll give me some time to confer with the King and Queen and see if we can get to the bottom of the land issue."
"Then that's settled! Jeremiah, I will be in touch. You best be off now. It's late and you have kids, do you not?"
"Yes ma'am. Two. Very little, quite rambunctious. Give the wife and I a run for our money some days."
Winter laughed. "Then you best be getting some rest. Worry not." She placed a gentle hand on his forearm. "The Seasons and I will take care of your crop issue, okay?"
He nodded, stifling a yawn. "Yes ma'am."
"And really, just Winter is fine. Now then! Off you go!"
Nodding once more, Jeremiah turned around, letting out a proper yawn as he made his way back inside the house. The pair waited for a moment until the final light glowing in the back of the house went out.
Winter hummed. "That takes care of that, then."
"You are a very impressive woman. Have I ever told you that?"
"Haven't the foggiest," she lied, smiling up at him coyly. "I do apologize for taking charge their, ah, your highness."
"Pfft. Don't! Please. I…it’s nice to not have to be all formal and what have you. Can I escort you anywhere?"
"No, I best be off. I've only just started my rounds, you know! There's a whole half of the globe waiting for me tonight beyond these healing waters."
"Globe?"
"Yes. My job takes me all over it, Blaise."
"Huh. I guess it would, wouldn't it? I just...I never really thought about it, you know?"
Winter watched as Blaise looked thoughtful. Smiling to herself, she let out another little hum, tugging on the arm she still held captive. "Perhaps I can escort you to your lodgings for the night?"
"Oh, no need! But I'd ah, appreciate the fine company on the walk."
"Lead the way, then. And do elaborate, if you please."
"Elaborate? How?"
"You've never thought of the world beyond Crystal Springs? Ever? At all?"
They took the path that Pyros had trodden hours earlier, heading straight into the heart of the town instead of hanging the left to the tall purple tower in the distance, where the windows glowed with light, magic sparking right out the chimney. The Royal Guard patrolled the street, local guards in tow the closer they got to the centre.
"No. Never."
"Not ever?"
"Well...okay, maybe I'm a bit of a liar. I have thought about it. But I've been taught all my life that it's unsafe, y'know? As most of the people are taught. That ordibeings would hunt us for our magic again the moment we left the safety of the Springs. So I try not to think about it, and I try to enjoy the cross-continent trip here every time we're sent out. It's nice to remember that there are places, beautiful places that exist outside the castle walls. To remember why Pyros and I are doing what we're doing."
"And even more beautiful places exist outside the continent! Beyond the oceans and the icebergs. There are a whole different set of stars on the other side of the globe at night! It's amazing. It's beautiful."
"And dangerous."
"Sometimes, yes. But not as bad as it was during the Wild Magic era. Most ordibeings have their own set of beliefs and their own versions of magic; they don't really need ours. Oh, they have stories, of course. But to them, they are simply stories and I'd wager that were we to venture out of Crystal Springs...we'd be okay. I mean, my sisters and I are! So is my Mother, and we're out of the continent nightly practically! And the Legendary Figures, they're all quite all right, the ones who roam about."
"Yeah, but they're Legendary Figures!"
"So?"
"I mean...they have more power at their disposal; they don't need to worry when they go out. But we do. That's why we were brought here, right?"
"So the history books say. But that's the thing, Blaise. It's history. We're very stuck in some ancient ways here, when you think about it, and I know you do."
He was silent as they approached a cozy main street, taverns and inns still lit up for the night, though the music had ebbed and silence had descended.
"Look, Blaise. I go beyond the Springs and I'm not a Legendary Figure."
"But you're a season."
"And technically, so are you, you know. We're the same type of sprite! Seasonal as opposed to elemental."
"I know, but I wouldn't want to step on Summer's toes. I wouldn't be allowed to."
"Says who?"
"Who do you think?"
Winter scoffed. "Ah, they're old. Very stuck in the old ways. Sometimes I think that's a bad thing."
"...Sometimes I think so, too. I mean. Mom and Dad are all about power and they interlink it with safety all the time! And when we're out here, I don't have to think about all that! And Pyros stops thinking about it too and it's kinda nice, you know? I mean, they've been here and in power for thousands of years. To think the world is still the same is...insane!"
Winter laughed. "Tell me something, Blaise. Would you still sneak out for me?"
Blaise blinked. "Oh. Most definitely. Between you and me, your snowiness," he leaned in, close to her ear. "I hate being in the fucking castle all the time."
Winter laughed. "I can't believe the magic let you get away with that!"
"I'm that passionate about it! That's why I love these outings so much! I'm not in the castle and," they came to a stop, Blaise spinning her about as the guards in front of the nicest inn in the sector stood to attention and dutifully looked away. "I get to see lovely people like you."
"Well, maybe you should accompany me out one of these days."
"Out like out out? Like out there?"
Understanding the sudden need for less words, Winter nodded. "Oh yes."
Blaise paused, fighting back a grin. "I think I'd like that. A lot."
"Oh, brilliant!" Clearing her throat as the guards shifted, Winter stepped back. "Thank you for the escort, your highness," she said, dutifully casting her eyes down and curtsying most graciously.
"Of course, your snowiness. It was my pleasure," he replied, placing his arm across his chest and bowing back. "Be safe tonight."
"Of course. And good luck on your travels."
Nodding at one another (and biting back grins something fierce), Blaise watched as Winter turned on her heel expertly, fully thawed tresses bouncing about. She nodded most graciously to the royal guards (the few that had been giving the Prince a moment of privacy as best as they could clanking as they stood to attention, scrambling to salute) and disappeared on the spot, the smattering of snowflakes left in her wake drifting down his way.
He gazed goofily up the street, maybe for a bit too long, only coming to his senses when one of the guards beside him cleared his throat. Straightening up, he waved (the guards happily standing down) and walked up the path and into the inn as regal and posh as possible, only dropping the act and grinning to himself when he closed the door to the inn shut behind him.
"And at what time do you think this is? And looking like THAT?!?!? And WHAT is IN your ARMOUR?!!"
Blaise frowned in quite the over-dramatically grotesque manner, one eye squinting in distaste as he plucked a tiny bit of wheat out of his couter. He held it up in front of him, Marv an angry purple blur behind it.
"It would appear to be wheat, Marv."
"And why is there wheat in your armour?"
"Because I was doing my do diligence and investigating a wheat problem in the fields."
"Hmm." Folding a napkin, he got up gracefully, surveying the prince with an unamused look. "And are you sure you acquired it like that? And not, per chance, tousling around in fields with a certain high ranking season?"
Blaise glowered. His hair burnt taller and hotter. He flicked the wheat away, approaching Marv at his full height. "I would appreciate it, Marvin, if you would refrain from using such crude language when talking about any of the seasons."
"And I would appreciate it if you made it easy to be your steward."
Blaise rolled his eyes, hair dimming. "I'm not the one you should worry about, Marv." He stepped around the drow, heading towards the stairs. "You and I both know that." He paused by Marv's table, grabbing a bun from the small bowl of bread in front of him. "You're not staying up to wait for him, are you?"
"Indeed I am."
Blaise snorted, half chewed bread going flying. "He's not coming back here for the night."
"I beg your pardon?"
"He'll spend the night with the castor."
"No he will not."
"Yes he will." Blaise spun on his heel, clanking up the first two steps. "So you MIGHT AS WELL get some sleep. You're so grouchy when you don't."
Marv's undignified yell gave Blaise great satisfaction as he bounded up the stairs, polishing off his pilfered bread and ducking into his room (one of two heavily guarded doors). He chuckled to himself, throwing off the armour (the burnished metal casually floating itself into a neat pile) and the layers underneath until he was left in nothing but his briefs. He slid into bed, arms behind his head as he thought of the world outside the healing waters and well beyond the floating icebergs.
---
The morning dawned bright and early, as it was wont to do in the early fall. Outside, the grass was crisp; a fresh layer of frost slowly melting as the sunlight hit it.
Up and at 'em and fully armoured once more, Blaise bounded down the stairs, barely able to withhold his snort when he saw Marv snoring at his table, head on his arms. Carefully, he pried a napkin out from under the bread basket, conjuring a pencil and writing something down very fast. Satisfied, the pencil disappeared and Blaise crumpled the napkin in his fist, sliding up to the counter top and clearing his throat.
Marv shot up. "Gah! Your Highness!"
"Morning Marv! I guess he didn't come in last night, huh?"
Marv cleared his throat, stepping up and righting his table. With a wave of his hand, his robes straightened themselves out, his hair looking less bedhead-y and nice and neat. "I am…unsure."
"Mm. That checks out. Ah! Tilly!"
The barkeep let out a meep, rushing to curtsy. "How can I help ya, your highness?"
"I was just wondering if there was a washroom I could use down here." He glanced over at Marv surreptitiously. The Drow was distracted, talking to Kira, the chief of security. With a flick of his wrist, Blaise slid the crumpled napkin towards the barkeep, glancing down at it and back up at her.
Catching his gaze, she reached out and uncrumpled the napkin. Her eyes skimmed the words quickly, brightening as she finished reading the hastily scrawled message. "Ah! Of course! It's just behind the staircase! There's a hallway. Make a right, and it'll be right on the end."
Blaise grinned. "Thank you, Tilly."
She bobbed her head. "Of course!"
Chuckling to himself, Blaise grabbed the crumpled up napkin, crushing it up in his palm and reducing it to ash. He followed her instructions, grinning when he turned the corner and sure enough, there was the back exit, door wide open as staff brought in the groceries for the day.
Excusing himself politely, Blaise scrambled around the staff, ignoring the scrambly bobs as he looked up and down the street for any sign of his counterpart.
There was none.
Avoiding the front of the inn, Blaise put out his hair, blending in with the crowd as best as he could and reaching out with his mind.
He was close. Just coming down the path and turning towards the main street.
Blaise rushed past the taverns, turning up the street (briefly skidding), relieved when he saw Pyros coming down the path. His gaze was intensely focused on an object in his palm as he headed down the way, looking very, very dishevelled.
Hey. Hey. Hey. Look up.
Blinking, Pyros looked up, making eye contact with Blaise, who was grinning maniacally and waving boisterously, in Pyros's very humble opinion.
I didn't realize you could wave as loud as you could speak.
Blaise laughed, bounding up the street and coming to a stop beside Pyros, turning on his heel and falling into step. I am a sprite of many talents! He smirked, his hair lighting up with a soft whoosh. We have a problem.
We do?
Well, you do. Blaise cleared his throat, pointing to the bottom corner of his own mouth. "You got something there. What is that, Jam? Jelly? Ketchup? Dye?!"
"I've yet to wash up. Figured I could do that in whatever rooms Marvin secured for us and have a nice breakfast before getting down to business."
"Not to be confused with the business you have obviously already gotten down to."
Pyros glanced down at his outfit. It was...wrinkled; dishevelled. The, uh...dye (lip paint. It was 100% lip paint) was smudged on his face AND his hands, he realized, and Lady only knew where else! His outfit was covered in magical residue and glitter that seemed very not magical. "Okay, and? What's your point?"
"Marv knows you didn't come in last night. Your royal hinny is screwed and not in the fun way I imagine it to have been last night."
"I would appreciate it if you didn't imagine my royal hinny in any capacity whatsoever."
Blaise snickered. "It's not literal."
"Good."
"Thankfully! My royal hinny is very clever and very suave and snuck out to intercept you which thank the LADY I did because voila!" Blaise snapped his fingers, and Pyros was suddenly looking as pristine as he would've had he gone home and done his morning toilette before emerging for the day. "All fixed up, and now it'll simply look like we are walking back to town together, having gotten up to none shenanigans whatsoever last night."
Pyros flashed him a wry smile. "Really? None shenanigans? From you?"
"None whatsoever."
"That'll be the day. And oh, there he is. Right on time."
"Brace yourself. I already had my lecture. He's had all night to think of yours."
"WHERE have you BEEN!" Marv marched down the street, three guards behind him, Kira at his side. "I turn around for one second and you disappear—"
"Very unwise, Blaise."
"And YOU! I leave you alone for a night and you DON'T come HOME?!"
"I was busy!"
"Yeah you were. Grrrr—oof."
Blaise rubbed his stomach as Pyros retracted his arm, standing at full height and looking down his nose at Marvin. "As you were well aware, Marvin, we had a sticky—" (a pause for Blaise's snort and another whack, on the chest this time) "—situation to find a solution for. And since Blaise requested it to be non-lethal, it required a bit of an…intense magical research session."
"You could've sent a letter! A scry, a fireball literally ANYTHING! You are a prince! The both of you! If something happened to either of you that would be very very bad all around."
"Ah, please. We can handle ourselves."
"And if anyone did anything to Blaise short of killing him, they'd give him right back. Ten minutes, tops."
"They'd give you back in five."
"Is that a challenge?!"
"NO! There will be NO challenges of this particular sort!" Marvin pinched the bridge of his nose. "I am just looking out for the two of you. And if the both of you MUST mess about in the evenings at least elicit some decorum and for Goddess's sake let me know."
"Mess about?" Pyros raised an eyebrow at Blaise. "None shenanigans, eh?"
"None whatsoever."
"Hm. How's Winter doing?"
"Very well, thanks."
"Lady help me. At LEAST you are presentable, Prince Pyros."
Blaise flashed him a smug look. Pyros sighed. Thank you.
His twin grinned. Anytime.
"Feel better, Marv?"
"There is nothing short of an overnight stay at the springs that could make me feel better."
"We'll add it to the itinerary for you. So! Pyros! How'd it go?"
"Very well! We managed to isolate the sticky bit of the pygmys and extract it from them, reducing them to harmless little fluffy. Things. As for the sticky secretion, Prisma had the delightful idea to isolate it and use it to make a new kind of adhesive. She wants to test it first, so we only have the one at present.” He lifted the object in his hand—an unmarked tube. Also slightly covered in glitter. “She'll be joining us shortly to do just that."
"Where is she now?"
"Placing little sticky absorbing devices across town. This way, should the pygmys start secreting once more, the devices will use the magic we imbued within them to take it right off and store it."
"And the pygmys?"
"Can now bounce around no more harmful than, say, a tumbleweed or Blaise when you wake him up too late in the day."
"Hey!"
"He's right, your highness."
Blaise made an undignified sort of moaning and or groaning sound in his throat. "Whose side are you on here, Marv?"
"Mine. And it is a lonely, fruitless side, let me tell you. Now then. We've much to discuss and itinerary changes to make so, let's go eat and then go about our day. I shall have a setting put out for this castor of yours, Prince Pyros."
"Very good."
"Shall I set one for her snowiness, Prince Blaise?"
Now Pyros grumbled while Blaise held back a snort. "No, no. That, uh, won't be necessary. She'll be coming by at a later date to touch base with the tenant whose fields are frosting over. She's, uh, not joining us for breakfast." He scratched the back of his neck, sheepish.
Pyros smirked. “You’d like that though, wouldn’t you.”
“Immensely.”
“Shame we can’t switch.”
“Alas! She is a season, not a talented castor.”
Deciding against chiding the pair of them for their silly little banter, Marvin pressed his fingertips together. "Hmm. Very well. Come along, you two."
Clapping, Marvin set back towards the inn, hands behind his back, head held high. The detachment of guards that had surrounded him now surrounded the Twin Princes, ushering them forward while preventing them from backtracking or making any other attempts to escape and or engage in tomfoolery, as it were. After all, they had a schedule to keep. Rounds to continue on and issues to address. Being behind simply would not do. Not for Blaise, not for Pyros, not for Marv or any other members of the royal detail that'd been sent out to keep the peace, as it were.
---
Days later the Twin Princes found themselves once more shut into their carriage, both boys looking out the window with similar, thoughtful frowns. The carriage rumbled on, rain splattering the rooftop as the sun shone brightly.
Thoughts in faraway places well beyond the sun showery path before them, Blaise let out a melancholy sigh.
"Hmm. That's not good. You're usually rearing to get to the South."
"I do love me a good beach."
Pyros smiled to himself, glancing back out the window. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
He could ask mentally. Didn't even need to ask; could just pop on into his head and figure it out for himself. It's not like he blocked his end of their connection; neither of them did.
But it was a lot more fun to outright ask.
"Hey, Blaise."
"Mm."
"What're you thinking about?"
Success! His twin smiled through the hand pressed onto his face, the severity dropping and revealing the more carefree brother he was used to. "Land disputes. You?"
"Pygmys."
"Pygmys?"
"Pygmys. See, here's the thing." He leaned forward in his seat, hands folded between his knees. "The word pygmy is just that! A word! It usually denotes something smaller than the regular. And they used it to describe those small fluffy things."
"What would you call them instead?"
"Hmm. Don't know. Fluffs? Fuzzes? Fuzzies? Fuzzballs? Furries? Furbies?"
"I don't like that last one."
"Nor do I. Furby sounds like it could be a curse word. Like, a good and proper curse you'd cast, not a cuss word." He paused briefly, taping his nose. "Now, here's the thing. If the word pygmy denotes a smaller version of something, it begs a question."
Blaise dropped his hand from his face, giving Pyros his full, undivided attention. "Go on."
"If these pygmys are called that by the locals simply because they are small, is there a bigger pygmy? A giant pygmy to rule them all? A fuzzball the size of both of us?"
Blaise laughed, a right and proper loud laugh. "Maybe that's why they're so sticky? Maybe it's because they stick together and make a big ol' clump of fuzzball and THAT'S the one fuzzball to rule them all!"
Pyros lit up. "Ou! I didn't even think of that possibility! Now, IF that's the case, where is it? Where does it reside? What does it want? And should we find it?"
"Or will it find us..."
Now Pyros found himself snorting, the pair of them laughing up a storm to out storm the sun shower outside.
The carriage rumbled on, bringing the princes closer and closer to their next stop, their laughter echoing about the entourage. Guards perked up; Blaise's horse whinnied happily, trotting up to the window and trying his best to shove his little head into the carriage with them.
On the covered seat of the carriage, Kira chuckled, elbowing Marvin gently.
"You gotta admit. It's nice to see the two of them getting along and in such high spirits."
"Kira, if I admit that, I am sure it will be my downfall. I have a reputation to keep, you know. Lady only knows what'll happen if I destroy it. All my credit!"
She laughed. "Of course, of course. Goddess forbid."
She looked away, smiling to herself, because even Marvin could not hide the slight smile their jovial (and, quite frankly, very unbecoming of their station, if you asked him) hooting and hollering brought to his face.
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toastsnaffler · 4 months
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dating an art student was so crazy I'm just thinking abt that one birthday I had where my ex got me stickers from the etsy of the person they were cheating on me with....
#they made them address the thank you note to me and everything ajskfjfkfb. i didnt know they were cheating at the time but wow...#every time i break out my sticker collection and see them im reminded of it. but i cant throw out the stickers theyre deltarune ones 😭#like they were a rly cool artist.... just unfortunate that happened 💀#the drama was insane. my ex only wanted to sleep with them but they (other person) wanted them to break up with me so they could date#but my ex dumped them rly harshly for suggesting that i guess 'romantic' cheating was a step too far even for them lmaooo#i heard abt their breakup secondhand and god could they be cruel sometimes. they made fun of the sex theyd had w them#to all their mutual friends n everything i actually felt so bad for the other person when i found out. at least our breakup wasnt that bad#i only finally got that cruel side of them directed towards me like a year after when they wanted us to stop being friends#but yeah. its also funny in a way bc my ex only suggested i had adhd bc the other person did too + struggled a lot with rsd#which i guess they found out when they broke up with them. and then looked at that and thought huh my gf is kind of similar...#and this was like. 2 years before i even considered i had adhd myself and sought diagnosis ahdkfidjcjdjfjfjfkdbfnf#this made me go look the other persons art page up on instagram + then i recognised some of their friends/flatmates art pages and i found#their (my exs that is) grad year film which is still being shown at animation festivals... good for them good for them#i dont think they have an art page themselves tho cuz they were always v shy and weird abt sharing art on social media#like everyone else except them is tagged on things... shame i wouldve liked to see what they were making now. even if we're not friends#also one of their old roommates made some REALLY similar squid game fanart to mine like a month after i posted it huh..#not mad abt it or anything i think its cool i just didnt realise they showed my art to their friends. thats cute#ah this was years ago anyway. getting my head out of the rabbit hole#im gonna go play some elden ring and then maybe do smth fun in my sketchbook we shall seeee#.diaries
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opens-up-4-nobody · 1 year
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...
#just an observation bc im avoiding working on stuff but i draw a lot and post basically everything i draw thst gets finished#and its v funny to me how u can tell how out of focus i was based on the quality of the drawing#or like when i post something and its like ok some of that was good but u def gave up halfway thru one of those lol#inconsistency i funny like that. its also funny to me that now a days i get comments like COLORS!!!#which is funny bc i notoriously haaaaaate coloring. like i will sit around whining and complaining when im home with my parents bc i dont#wanna color. its just so easy to fuck things up when u draw traditionally and it takes a million years so its a big ask lol#but i guess i dont hate is so much right now bc i kinda just slap whatever colors i want together like fuck it we ball#and thats kinda fun. reckless i suppose#its agony when u wanna try to do shadows and lights tho. like finding references ugh#or wanting to draw big ideas but then its like oh god its gonna take so long and if i dont do it all in one sitting i might die#im a lil better abt thst now bc it would b impossible but in my head i still hate it#ugh. all i wanna do is draw. theres another universe where i went to art school. or just like took art classes. and i wanna say id b happier#but thats def a lie XD i like learning too much and i dont have the attention span to hardcore learn genetics outside an academic#environment. and i got way too excited abt exploring the genetic traits of my cyano species#like i can make genetics trees for traits and look for. fuck. i forgot the word. how tf did i forget the word. oh god. horizontal gene#transfer. jesus christ its like theres a hole in my brain. well. i guess i did get only like 4hrs sleep. ugh im rambling.#i need to finish getting ready for Monday so i dont have to tomorrow and ill have time to draw. prob wont stop me feeling nauseous abt#teaching tho. OH FUCK. i just remembered i have a new office space now to decorate. fuck i need to hang up pictures and stuff#what would b the funniest way to put narut0 on my deskspace? idk ill have to think abt it. oh god im not ready#my head is like a handbell. one of the big ones when u ring it and it hits soft and u can feel the vibrations. someones wrung my head lol#unrelated
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skeletonpendeja · 1 year
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Still not over how this ended
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chiropteracupola · 2 years
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lady king and lady herald...
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the more school work i have the more my brain is like “hey remember the WIP you abandoned 6 years ago? it is going to fill your every waking thought”  
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eupheme · 2 months
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— sugar, sugar
[part ii] | [part iii] | [masterlist]
wolverine/logan howlett x neighbor!f!reader
rated e - 6.5k
tags: asshole friend!wade, (sorta soft) roommate!logan, baker!neighbor!reader, flirting, mutual yearning, immature humor, a reference to while you were sleeping, wingman!wade and the worse way to meet someone, light angst, oral sex, swallowing, fingering, v. light ass play, unprotected PiV, appearance of The Claws, what’s a refractory period, sorta audible voyeurism (brief/humorous)
a/n: includes spoilers for deadpool & wolverine (which omg I loved - what was your fave cameo?)
Your eccentric neighbor Wade may drive you a little up the wall… but, you’re willing to put up with him if it means he’ll introduce you to his new, grumpy-looking roommate.
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“You gonna introduce me?”
You’ve cornered Wade in the apartment’s laundry room - the door to the front-loading washer hanging open as he holds a bundle of red fabric up to his chest.
“You think this will wash out?” 
The suit in question looks like it had been run over by a truck and then set on fire, with the rips criss-crossed in the leather and the numerous charred holes scattered across the chest.
“Definitely.” Your eyes flicker down, and then back up, “So, will you?”
He bundles the suit up - flinging into the back of the washer, the laundry basket still tucked under an arm.
“Really? Not even ‘hello, Wade’? ‘Looking good, Wade’?” His voice pitches up, imitating yours, “Does our friendship really mean nothing to you?”
You wouldn’t necessarily call Wade Wilson a friend.
In fact, he’s honestly the worst neighbor you’ve ever had. 
Loud, obnoxious. Persuasive - the first night you met you had been banging on his door at three in the morning, yelling at him to shut up as music and a caterwauling voice blared through the shared wall.
Ten minutes later you were playing the drums on his late night session of Rock Band, using a banana and a wooden spoon in place of sticks. Only for Althea to stomp out of her room and shut everything down, scaring both of you out of your skins.  
But sometimes, you think - remembering the times he came through for you, a shoulder to cry on, helping him this slump he’s been digging himself out of - he might just be the best, as well.
And maybe that was friendship, after all. 
You sigh, leaning against the row of washers. Eyes flicking over him, a small smile tugging at your lips.
“You do look good, Wade,” There’s a tilt of your head, the smile widening, “Glad you lost the toupee, that really wasn’t your color.”
“Ah, ah. Repurposed,” He chides, cupping his crotch, “You wouldn’t believe how much I’ve missed-”
“Ew, stop.” Your face scrunches, a hand covering your eyes as you shield your vision, “Will you please just answer my question?”
He throws a handful of shirts in the washer, “Which was...?”
Your head shakes - a hand on his arm as you reach for a glint of gold in the pile of clothes. Cringing as a handgun appears, held gingerly between thumb and forefinger as you set it on the side table.
“Good call,” He nods, “Dry clean only.”
You can't help a laugh then, even as your hands brace on your hips, “I want to meet your roommate.”
He frowns, “You’ve met Blind Al.”
“Jesus, Wade. Not Al." A hand waves, " I mean Mister Tall, Dark, and Brooding.”
You’ve seen the stranger in the hallways a few times in the month since he’s moved in. Scruffy and scowling the first time, a silent shadow behind Wade’s endless chatter. 
But in the weeks following, that look had softened. You’d stopped by twice with cookies to welcome him, but every time you’ve just gotten Al.
Not that you dislike Al, that’s not it at all. She’s sweet enough to you when it’s not 3 a.m. or if Wade doesn’t have her annoyed half to death.
But you certainly weren’t harboring a crush on her. Maybe even secretly hoping that maybe the new neighbor will get a little lost and end up at your door, instead of his new place.  
“Ooh,” The syllables draw out - detergent flung in, before he’s leaning against the washer too, facing you. “Yeah, Logan. He's great, got a mean ‘Hugh Jackman’ vibe, just without the singing. You’d like him.”
Something like hope flutters in your belly, but then he’s raising a finger - wiggling it at you, “Just one question though. What’s in it for me?”
That has you scowling, “What do you mean? You owe me. I covered for you when you had that barqueue in the stairwell.”
“God, that was great sausage.” Wade groans, thinking back, “Mmm, but I think Peter covered for me.”
“Who do you think got Peter?”
“Well, I don’t remember seeing you.” He shrugs.
“I was right-,” You pinch the bridge of your nose between thumb and forefinger, a sharp exhale of breath, “Fine. If you do this for me, I’ll do that thing you keep asking me to do.”
Wade gasps gleefully, “You mean you’ll make the triple decker-”
“-chocolate caramel cheesecake chimichangas. Yes.” You finish with him, arms crossing over your chest, “You’re lucky you heal fast because that should put you right into a food coma.”
“Right. Lucky me,” He smirks. A second as he thinks, before he snaps his fingers, “I’m having a little get-together tonight! You should come. Was gonna invite you anyway.”
The pounding in your head ratchets up at the thought that all this could’ve been avoided.
“Logan sleeps on the couch, though,” He adds, sagely, “So just letting you know that if the two of you decide to get your fuck on in my bed, according to the state of New York I am legally allowed to join you.”
“Thanks for the warning,” You grimace - even if you’re certain that cannot possibly be true, “But I do have my own apartment.”
“Oh, right.” There’s the faintest edge of disappointment in his tone, paired with a sigh.
You give him a sideways look, then.
“I saw Vanessa leaving yesterday. Things getting better?”
He sobers at that, eyes moving towards the sliver of a window. The glimpse of the street outside.
“Yeah.” Wade manages, “Yeah, I think so.”
There had once been a flicker of something. In-between your annoyance and exasperation, there were tendrils of tenderness. Long snuffed out, when you had seen just how banged up his heart was. How it’s always belonged to another. 
You had gotten over it. Gotten to a place where seeing him now, like this, makes you smile.
“I’m really glad to hear that.” 
He smiles, then.
“Thanks. Me too.”
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“Hey, hold on.” Wade darts in front of his roommate, a leg kicked up high to block the doorway, “Where are you going? You can’t go out.”
Logan scowls, an arm already shoved into his leather jacket, “Sure I can.”
The blow against his shoulder might move a lesser man, but Wade’s fingers just grip the frame even tighter, “But I promised-, I got a friend that wants to meet you. There is some really important shit at stake here. I can’t let you go.”
An eyebrow cocks, “Can’t? I think we both know how that would go if you tried to stop me.”
It would be easy to get into this right here and now, but his suit is still in the dryer and he’s not about to spend another hour cleaning up blood.
“Wait, wait, wait,” He throws a hand up, “Aren’t you listening to me? A girl wants to meet you. She’s hot, she has a job, and she has an apartment. You’re only one outta three there. Can’t you see what a good opportunity this is? This is totally in your favor!”
Logan scoffs, his tongue tucking against his teeth. Hesitating for just a second, but it's enough that Wade knows he’s got him.
“I’ve met your friends,” He eventually acknowledges, “They’re good folk and all, but there isn’t anyone there I’d like to ‘get to know better’, yeah?”
“You haven’t met this one. She lives next door.”
The pause stretches longer this time. Dark eyes dart out into the hallway, and Wade can practically hear those rusted gears turning.
“Apartment 16 or 18?” Logan finally rasps, his arms crossing. 
Oh, he’s definitely got him. Just call him Wade Wilson, New York’s own personal Cupid. New life goal - get his friends laid. 
He nocks a mental arrow - aiming, and then firing with his answer. 
“18.” 
Another beat passes, and then a sigh. 
“Alright.” The leather sleeve slips from his arm, drooping in his fist.
“Five minutes. That’s all I’m staying.”
Wade’s fist pumps. 
Bullseye, motherfucker. 
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The apartment is packed and it’s been well past the allotted five minutes. Logan’s been nursing a beer for the last fifteen, eyes flicking over the people he’s grown to know well.
Offering a tight, half-smile when the big man claps him on the back, followed by Opposites Attract. Almost tempted to find that damn dog, just to have something to do. 
Or maybe, just bail all-together.
Starting to think this was all an elaborate prank. Some fucked up aspect of this Earth, unknown to him until now.
He’s too old for this shit. If he heads for the bedroom now, he might make it out the fire escape before anyone notices.
Logan is still entertaining this new thread of thought until he hears his name - called out over whatever fuck-face bullshit boy-band music Wade’s been playing. 
Ambiance, his ass.
The muscles of his crossed arms flex. Catching the way his roommate hauls a girl across the floor - the look of panic on her face as she tosses a container onto the nearest surface.
Wade hadn’t been lying, after all. It was Apartment 18 - that was about as much as he knew about you.
Other than the color of your eyes. The smell of your perfume in the hall. Your hair, your schedule - waking in the mornings to hear your door opening at 5 a.m., five days a week.
A baker. A damn good one, from the bits of cookie he’s snuck when no one was home. 
Had never thought to introduce himself, because he’s been through all this before. Knows better than to reach out in the first place - still nursing the old wound of heartache, one that still flares to life in his chest.
Better not to hope, or even think, at all. 
You stumble when he lets go, and Logan’s hands only curl tighter. Afraid to touch, now that you’re so close. 
A pretty young thing compared to him. This was a fucking stupid idea, his eyes darting away as Wade claps, his hands spreading wide. 
“Logan,” Wade’s tone is cordial, as if discussing the weather, “This is our neighbor, Sugar. She bakes a mean penis cake and likes emotionally unavailable men.”
A dejected sigh as he regards you, “Which is why it’s never worked out between us. I am just too available.”
Penis cake?
Logan shoots you a sideways look, an eyebrow cocked. Caught off guard by this unexpected intro, and it seems you are the same - gauging by the way your mouth drops open. 
Your face swimming with regret, as you hiss, “Oh my god. Wade. It was one time. Why do you have to put it like that?”
Wade’s smile widens, his tone still innocent, “Just skipping over the ‘getting-to-know-you’s, so you can know if you’re compatible.”
Already pivoting to face Logan with a little wink, his own scowl already deepening. Something like nerves flickering to life - as he wonders if this will all be over before it ever begins.
“And this is Logan. He’s from another Earth, is two-hundred years old, and has a metal dong.”
Jesus Christ. 
Logan’s teeth grit, before he snarls, “It’s not made of metal-”
Out of the corner of his eye, catches the curious dip of your gaze. Past the folded twist of his arms, the flannel, down to his thick belt buckle.
A knock rings out then, interrupting him from any further clarification.
“Ooh! Door,” Wade thumbs over his shoulder, “Go on now, we’ve got some good energy going here. Sugar and spice, I love it.”
A spin on his heel, and he’s leaving them alone. Silence a lingering companion for a long moment, before Logan turns.
“Nice to meet you.” He seethes, jaw working as he shoots daggers at Wade’s back. A hand extended - he’d manage that much at least.
Waiting for you to make an excuse and run, but all you do is fit your hand into his. Soft and strong and a near perfect fit.
Logan doesn’t touch people much anymore unless it’s a hand around a throat, or claws buried deep into a chest. Had almost forgotten what it was like, even if this meeting is close to his own personal version of hell.
“Nice to finally meet you, too.” Your smile is wry. Hands still clasped a moment longer, until he’s withdrawing. 
Your hands shove into your back pockets. The tilt of a head as you regard him, and he lets his eyes meet yours. 
They’re pretty, like the rest of you. Captivating even, if he could use such a word, and Wade’s words ring out in his head. 
She wants to meet you.
He’s wondering if that’s still true. Maybe you’re wondering the same, with the way you look at him. 
“So,” You begin, awkwardly - another unconscious flick of your eyes,“How does-”
“Uh-uh.” Logan’s head shakes. He’s picked up a couple things living with Wade. Never used to be a bargaining man, but he has to admit it has its uses. 
“If you wanna know, you gotta go first.” 
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He hates you.
He must, with the way he’s scowling. Thighs spread wide as he sits on the couch you had gestured to, fingers in a vice grip around the bottle. No doubt plotting a dozen ways to ditch you the second he can.
Who wouldn’t, with a meeting like this? You could kill Wade, cheeks burning as you sink into the worn cushions next to him.
That is, until your knee knocks against his. The muscles in his thigh flexing - but Logan lets it rest, instead of pulling away. 
“You gonna-?” His voice is gruff, a low rasp that makes goosebumps raise across your skin. 
“Uh, sure.” Your fingers twist, “Which part did you want to hear about?”
His eyebrows lift. Those dark eyes beneath, almost a hint of amusement in them.
“Right,” The little laugh that bubbles from you is self-conscious, “Well, I don’t really like emotionally unavailable men, they just have a habit of finding me.”
His voice is low, “How would Wade know that?”
“Mm, how would he know about your-?” Your eyes flicker down for the third time, and he shifts. 
“You first.”
“Alright.” You huff, but you’re smiling now. Some of your discomfort easing. 
Logan is even more handsome than you had thought. You like the way his eyes dart away, only to come back and linger. 
It’s starting to make you think that maybe it’s not dislike that has so much of him hidden away. Maybe it’s just been a long time since someone tried to peel any of him back. 
Maybe he’s as nervous as you are.
“Well, he’s had to scare an ex or two away.” You shrug, “He only knows because I told him. And the cake, oh-, that was him, too.”
You turn then, to face him. A shoulder brushing the arm he has thrown across the back of the couch, a flicker in his eyes as you get comfortable beside him.
“Well, Wade had gotten ripped in half a couple years ago,” You nose wrinkles, a wave of your hand, “And it all like, has to grow back, right? It’s so creepy.”
Logan grimaces at your explanation, and you wonder if he understands. You think he must - you had thought he was like Wade, in some ways. 
Different. Special.
“Well, he uh, finished growing everything in,” You make a sweeping gesture over your lower half, “And the next year to celebrate his dickiversary, he ordered a penis cake from my shop.”
“His… dickiversary.” Logan repeats slowly.
The heat is back in your cheeks, but you nod, “Yeah, because it like, it came back and all. And he paid in cash, I couldn’t say no.”
There’s the smallest twitch of Logan’s lips, and it feels like a victory.
“Right. What flavor was it?”
Your smile widens with relief, “Strawberries and cream. It was so good. I’ll have to make it for you sometime.”
A second before you cringe, adding, “I mean, a normal one. Not…”
He hums then, close to a laugh.  
“Sure. You do that.”
You smile, letting your shoulder bump his, “And with that… I think it’s your turn.”
The bit of humor in his expression flattens. A searching look thrown your way, before he inhales a breath.
Setting it free. 
“I’m a mutant.”
Logan waits there, as if expecting something. You only nod, thinking of the ones you know. Colossus, Ellie, Yukio, Domino. Wade. 
“Wade said you were similar to him. I had assumed-” You encourage, waiting.
“Right,” He seems relieved, some of the tension ebbing, “My powers are regenerative, like his. But unlike him, I have these-”
There’s the jerk of his wrist, and three sharp metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. Your gasp is caught in your throat as you cling to his flannel shirt - the surprise bleeding into worry. 
They glint in the light, as his fingers flex. 
“Adamantium instead of bones. All of me is like this.”
The claws sheath themselves inside him again. His wounds smoothing over seconds later, as he scrubs his knuckles across his jeans, wiping away blood. 
Offering out his hand, after. Letting your grip unwind from his shirt, and press against his skin instead. Feeling the tendons in his hand, his wrist. The skeleton beneath utterly unyielding, a weight to his limb that is so unlike your own.
“Metal…” You trail off, as pieces click into place, “I get it now. So does Wade really think there’s like, an actual bone-?”
Logan huffs again, “Guess so.”
You laugh then. A thought sobering you after, as a fingertip drifts up to the dip between his fingers. 
“But doesn’t that hurt?” 
It makes you wince to even think about it. Much less how casually they sprung from him, no different than breathing. 
He shrugs, and it’s heartbreaking.
“Doesn’t even phase me anymore.”
“And, the two hundred years,” Another facet you put together out loud, “You’re still alive because you keep healing? Will it be that way forever?”
His hand flexes in your grip.
“Not forever. Apparently my powers will run out, at some point.” His eyes meet yours, “The Logan in this world is dead. Wade pulled me from another.”
Your brow furrows - always trying to keep up with the snippets that Wade has told you across the years - stories about time-traveling and mutants and even how he came to be. But this seems too deep. Surely Logan must be joking.
“Another world, huh?” You ask, head tilting - trying your best to roll with it, “Won’t they miss you in yours?”
Only now does his face falter. That sharp mask cracking, as his hand pulls from yours. Resting again on the back edge of the couch - his answer low and rough. 
“No. I don’t think so.”
Another jolt racks through your heart. You don’t know him know him yet, but you already can’t believe that could possibly be true. Your fingers fan out, hovering - before it folds into a fist.
“Well then, I’m glad you’re here.”
He doesn’t reply. 
The room is darker now, dim with the setting of the sun. Street lights outside pouring in a golden beam that cuts across his face. 
His eyes are hazel, you can see that now. A fading rim of green spilling into the brown, beneath the near-permanent furrow of his eyebrows. 
Yours caught in the glow of the flamingo string lights that curl out from the kitchen, stapled to the walls.
He breaks the silence, the words coming slowly. 
“Let me ask you one more thing.” 
“Sure. You know some of my worst secrets already.” You smile, a shoulder lifting.
His hand twitches, where it rests near your shoulder. The tip of a finger ghosting against skin.
Just the slightest brush but it feels like it radiates out, lingering after.
“Why’d you tell Wade you wanted to meet me?” 
His voice is still low, rough. But it’s lost that sharp edge. The combination has your stomach tied up in knots, suddenly more nervous that you’ve been the whole night.
Surely he must know? 
“Well…” You hedge. It’s your turn to look away, but then there’s the brush of his fingers again.
“Because I did want to meet you.” You admit, “You, you seemed like someone I wanted to get to know. In whatever capacity you’d like.”
“Is that right, Sugar?” Logan husks, and the nickname sounds even sweeter on his tongue, stealing your breath.
All you can do is nod, as his eyes darken. 
Voices rise behind you, ripping you out of this little bubble you’ve found yourself in. Nearly forgetting just how many people are here, how many eyes have been glancing your way since you’ve arrived.
“Not strip poker Wade, please.” The rough rumbling plea of Colossus’s voice rings out above the others, “You never wear anything under the suit-”
You didn’t even realize when he had changed, but he had - patches of bare skin on his ass showing through the holes. Your nose scrunches, before you turn back to realize that Logan’s eyes are still on you.
Dropping when your tongue peeks out to wet your lips - your words coming out in a soft hush. 
“You want to get out of here?”
You want him. You can only hope that he might just want you, too.
The corner of his lip twitches.
“Thought you’d never ask.”
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It’s strange to have someone like Logan in your space. You can remember the last time you’ve wanted someone here.
His fingers still entwined with yours, from where you had reached back for him. Leading him through the dim corners of the room.
Thinking you had made it, only for the rousing cheers to rise when you had cracked the door open to slip through.
His grip tightening when you made to tug your hand free, in an urge to press it against burning cheeks. Letting you fumble with one hand, to open the lock next door.
It’s quieter here. A low echo of the music next door, as the darkness wraps around you again.
Here, his fingers move, but it’s only to skim up your wrist. To tug you between him and the front door, until your back presses against it. 
His nose brushes yours as he steps into your space, your lips already parting. Holding himself there for a moment, inhaling the scent of you as his arm braces above your head.
Leaving you to be the one that closes the gap. The tilt of your head and the press of your lips against his.
A rough hum when your arms wrap around his neck, fingers buried in his hair. His hand gripping at your waist, pulling your hips against his.
Tugging and pushing. A messy path from the front door through the small living room - a mirror-image of the apartment next door.
Through to the bedroom, wandering hands and the brush of his tongue against yours as he deepens the needy kiss. Until his knees are hitting the edge of your bed, and he’s letting you nudge him back onto the mattress.
He brings you with him - your hips cradling his as you settle yourself astride him. Hands flatten against his chest as you rock down - drawing a rough, mumbled “fuck”.
Grinding yourself down where he’s hard, the curve of his cock straining against his jeans. Letting your hands follow, as his own cup your ass. Squeezing, before slipping to press the heel of his hand against the seam at your clit.
You moan into his mouth, as your fingers curl around him. Eyes blown wide when you pull back, scooting your hips down. 
It’s here that he comes back to himself. 
Going tense as you fit yourself between his thighs, fingers at this belt as the other still cups him.
“You shouldn’t want this.” He rasps, those eyes glinting in the dark, “A man like me. You know that, right?”
Propping himself up on an elbow, so he can see your expression. So you can see the way his jaw grits, nostrils flaring. 
It’s a warning, wrapped up in silk. A last ditch effort to scare you away - knowing that once he has you, he won’t want to stop.
Your fingers slow - his zipper half-undone, baring skin and a dark shadow of hair beneath. 
The other pulling away, “You want me to stop?” 
He catches your wrist, jerking your hand back. His hips bucking into your palm, grinding himself into your touch. 
“The last thing I want to fucking do is stop.” It’s almost a growl, “But on my Earth, I-”
You sigh then, impatient, “Logan, this Earth isn’t all that great either. I lost five years of my life to the blip.”
He frowns, not understanding - but your head shakes as you continue, “I’m tired of being too scared to take chances. I’ve been trying to live each day to the fullest, and I’d like to end this one with you.”
And out of everyone - Logan knows a little something about second chances.
“Yeah,” He manages - the grip of his fist leaves you, “Yeah, okay.”
"Thank you,” You answer primly, just as you finish yanking the zipper down. 
His hand beats you in the race to ease himself out, fingers curling around the base. You can’t help it - you inhale a breath at the sight of him.
Heavy, with the way the flushed tip bobs in his grip. Thick enough that you’re already wondering if you’re going to be able to take him. 
The huff he makes turns into a groan as you start small - engulfing the leaking head with your lips. The first inch turns into another as his hips lift, feeding his cock into your waiting mouth. 
Only when he’s halfway inside you, bumping against your throat, does his hand drop. Letting you replace it with your own - squeezing, as drool slicks up his shaft. Your head bobbing in time with the twist of your fist.
That brief hesitance is quickly forgotten. Fingers brush at your cheek, curling around the base of your head as he guides you.
Leaving you eager for more. Another hissed groan when your mouth leaves him, your hand loosening as you strip your clothes away.
“Oh fuck yes,” He coaxes, when he realizes what you’re doing, “Let me see you, baby.” 
Your shirt and pants left to pool on the floor. A second of boldness as you unclasp your bra next, leaving you in your panties as you focus on his cock again. 
A bitten-back moan when your tongue slips across his swollen shaft - an low throb between your thighs as you rub them together, clenching around nothing. Resisting the urge to slip your hand beneath the hem to ease the ache. 
Instead, your keep your hands on him. Goosebumps raising as your nails scratch against the deep v of muscle at his hips. The others working him into your mouth, as he slowly comes more undone. 
His hips flex with each bob of your head, lips parted as he pants. The words a rough mumble, becoming almost desperate. 
“That’s it sweetheart.”
Another moan when you take him deep, hollowing your cheeks as you suck, “Oh fuck, gonna fill that pretty mouth.”
His hand cups your jaw, holding you steady as he bucks into your mouth. Those dark eyes fixed on you in wonder, all that pretty skin bared for him to touch, to taste. He’s mesmerizing like this - the weight of gaze. Jaw slack with pleasure, eyes aflame.
You did this to him. 
It sends something warm flooding through you, as his eyelashes flutter. The tipping back of his head, muscles ticking in his cheek as his teeth ground down. 
A sound still slips between them, as he floods your mouth with the next flex of his hips. Pulsing between your lips as you swallow him down, a choked sound ripping from his chest when you cup his sack to gently squeeze out every last drop. 
Logan melts into the mattress after, an arm thrown over his eyes as he catches his breath. His gaze focusing on you when he feels you squirm - dark, and hungry.
A lithe stretch of muscles as he moves - legs easing from beneath you. 
“Hands and knees,” He commands, head tipping towards the bed next to him, as he rolls off. Kicking off his jeans as you listen, watching over a shoulder as the flannel and white tank underneath joins your clothes on the floor.
Your eyes widen at how toned he is - muscles rippling, the bed dipping as he fits himself behind you.
His broad hand at the small of your back, pushing your torso down against the mattress. A pleased hum then, fingers trailing just along the elastic edge of your underwear.
“Could smell how much she needed this.” The tips of two press against the damp fabric between your thighs, making you gasp, “Even next door. You want it that bad?”
It should be embarrassing that he could tell how much you desired him, but at the moment all you can think about is him touching you more.
“Yes,” You agree, “Please, Logan.”
“So fuckin’ polite,” The fingers withdraw; but only so his nose can replace them. A ragged inhale, just before his tongue drags against your clothed slit.
A groan against your skin as you cry out, before a finger hooks around the fabric, baring you for him to taste.
The heat of his tongue flattens against you - lapping at where you drip with need, a rough rumble in his chest. 
“Sweet, too.” Another flick of his tongue, “Your name. ‘s fitting.”
You can’t manage words. Only his name, muffled against the sheets as your fists twist in them. Back arched as you resist the urge to grind yourself against his tongue, as it flicks against your clit.
It’s messy, how he eats you. You don’t think you’ve even had someone take you like this. Hungry, desperate even, as he devours you. The rumble of a groan against your cunt as his tongue delves inside you, stretching you open. Letting your slick smear into his beard, with how close he presses his mouth.
That need inside you thrumming. Winding tighter as he yanks your panties down your thighs. His palm flattening against your ass, holding you open as he licks you from clit to hole, then higher. Humming as you squeak, when his tongue flattens against your tight rim. 
A thick finger nudging against you then, as his tongue dips back to your clit. There’s no resistance as it slips deeper, into slick walls that clamp down around him.  It’s what you needed - that little bit more.
Unable to help rocking into the crook of his finger now. Whining when a second joins it, spearing deep and curling. Dragging against your walls, loud and wet and filthy with each plunge. 
Your whimpers only grow louder. Needier, as his lips wrap around your clit. Fingers pounding deep, stretching you out. Leaving you babbling, your words slipping together. 
“Don’t fucking stop.” Tears prick at your eyes, each breath a rattling gasp, “Oh my god you’re gonna make me come-”
He has you gushing, with the next flick of his tongue. A pleased groan as he feels your pussy tighten around his fingers, hearing the wail that is muffled into your pillows. That sharp pace slowing, his thumb replacing his tongue to draw your orgasm out until your legs are shaking. 
His fingers sticky when they pull from you, only to slip between his lips - tongue curling around his knuckles, sucking them clean.
It leaves you floating above yourself. You can’t remember ever coming this hard, even by yourself. Only the tintest thread of disappointment as you drift, and it’s only that you won’t get the pleasure of his cock filling you tonight.
You would’ve liked to see what he can do with the rest of him. 
Perhaps you can convince him to stay until morning.
But he moves behind you, instead. His knee pressing against yours, spreading your legs further. The rhythmic shuffle of skin against skin, as his hand slips from between his lips to fist around his cock. 
“Tell me I can fuck you.” It’s not a plea, not with the harsh rasp of his voice. But it’s as close as you’ve heard, as he swipes the tip against your leaking pussy.
Smearing your slick on him, teasing at your waiting hole.
You don’t know how he’s hard again, but at the moment you really don’t care. Not sure if you’ve ever felt a need like this, your back arching further as you present yourself to him. 
A twist of your neck, so your eyes can meet his. 
“Fuck me, Logan.” 
He groans, broad hands squeezing at your ass. Slipping up to sink his fingers into the flesh at your hips. Holding you steady as he lines himself up. 
Your breath held, when you feel his cock start to breach you - muscles stringing tight.
“Relax, sweetheart,” He grits out, though not unkindly, “You can take it.”
Trying to hold himself back from filling you with a single thrust, with the way you’re already gripping him.
Easing himself into your heat. Two inches forward and then one back, and with each one you think you’ll feel the press of his thighs against yours. A low whine as your cunt makes room for him, that sharp stretch as it feels like he’s reaching into your belly.
Feeling full when he finally is flush, the weight of his sack kissing against your clit. His shoulders following the curve of your back, as a hand slips up to plant next to your head.
“Feels fucking incredible,” It’s mumbled against your skin, almost as if it hadn’t meant to say it. 
“Mm,” You grin, your face tipping up to his, “Should’ve met you weeks ago.”
He smirks, a low sound in his throat as his mouth presses to yours. Starting a slow rhythm that drags his cock against your walls. Slipping until he’s halfway out, only to sheath himself again. Pushing the air from your lungs as he flattens himself, knees digging into the bed as your thigh spread wider - forcing him deeper.
It’s almost too much. 
You hand shoots out, reaching. Wrapping around his wrist, nails biting against his skin. 
It feels like he’s surrounding you. Each thrust a heavy weight that presses you into the bed. Splitting you open, until all you can do is squirm beneath him.
That pressure in your belly building again, as his hips pound. His breath, hot and panting in your ear as he chases his own end.
“Fuck, Logan.” You sob, “Harder-”
His tendons flex under your grip. Knuckles pressing flat against the sheets as he makes a rough sound in his throat. 
Those claws unsheathing with his next thrust. Punching down into your mattress. Anchoring as he loses himself to the feel of you beneath him.
How tight and wet and warm you are, your arousal still sweet on his tongue. Fighting the urge to sink his teeth into your throat, as everything tightens up inside him.
“Sweetheart.” It’s a warning, rasped out. 
“Come in me,” You whine, “Wanna feel you.”
He does growl then, at the thought of filling you to the brim, until he's leaking out of your pretty little pussy. Hips snapping faster, pinning you to the bed as he ruts into you. Each squeak of the bed paired with the sharp rip of fabric as his claws dig in. 
Feeling how your body strings tight beneath him, how you clench down in anticipation. Wanting to feel you once more, before he gives in to his own desires.
“Come on, baby,” It’s hushed, murmured against your skin, “Fuckin’ give it to me-”
The sharp point of a canine scraping against your skin, his groan rough and throaty in your ear. 
Your fingers work down to wedge themselves between your thighs. The tips brushing where you’re speared open, before circling your clit like his tongue had.
He has you mindless. Fucked out - that soft glow from your earlier orgasm shining bright as he tips you towards a second.
Burning at that tightly wound thread inside you, until the ends fray, and then snap. 
It has you coming with his next thrust. A wail ripped from you as he buries himself deep, feeling the way your pussy clenches down around him. 
Fingers still swirling, drawing out the deep pulses that fan out from your core as your toes curl, vision going hazy.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” He rasps, those sharp thrust slowing to a sloppy grind, “Make a fucking mess for me, there you go-”
Panting, as he groans. Another roll of his hips before he’s coming with you - teeth bruising skin as they sink into your shoulder. The sound he makes is broken as he spills into you, muscles clenching with each pulse that paints your walls.  
Marking you thoroughly with teeth and come, the saw of his hips slowing until you both finally go still. A breath finally caught. 
Blissed out, when he rolls you both to the side. His thighs still mapping yours, cock still notched deep. A thick arm thrown across your waist, his breath ragged in your ear as he catches his breath.
Your fingers drift, as you bask in your afterglow. Dipping into the rips in your mattress, knuckle deep.
There’s a grunt as you wiggle, the words low in your ear, “I’ll get you another, sweetheart. Just lost control for a moment.”
The thought doesn’t bother you as much as you’d think. In fact, you wouldn’t mind if happened again.
Only as your imagination runs wild, do you hear the muffled moan from the brick wall behind you.
“Fuck, that’s good.”
Dramatic and drawn out, paired with faint rhythmic noise. 
A beat - before you hear mumbled protesting. The voice of someone talking with their mouth full, “No. Back the fuck off Peter, I’m not going to share.” 
Eating. The fucker was eating his end of the bargain, ear pressed to the wall.
The next louder, “Alright, pay up everyone, Operation ‘Get Sugar Some Sugar’ was a success!”
You grimace, eyes rolling. Logan grunts behind you, the words mumbled out sleepily.
“Wish I could sew that goddamn mouth shut.”
There’s a faint “they already tried that!” before Logan’s fist bangs on the wall, shutting him up.
But you can’t help the smile. Your fingers fitting between the ones that rest just below your breasts, squeezing.
“He’s not so bad,” You admit, “Wade, I mean.”
Logan groans, “Don’t say his name while I’m fucking you.”
“You’re-” You start - but then you can feel him.
Still hard - as his hips cant slowly against yours. Your joined hands slip up to cup a breast - as his lips press against your neck, stubble scraping you skin.
“Again?” You breathe, disbelieving that he’d be up for a third time - your hips rocking back to meet his. The sound lewd with how he drips from you - but it only has him grinding himself deeper, “You sure you’re two hundred?”
“Regenerative powers, sweetheart.” Logan husks, the flash of teeth with a knowing smirk.
“Can’t say it doesn’t come with perks.”
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I used to have the biggest fucking crush on wolverine, haha - so fun to watch a new movie with him!! 👀💕 thank you so much for reading! And please me know if you'd like to read any more for him! (like more one-shots,etc!)
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burinazar · 8 months
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i keep thinking 'i want to jailbreak the san-ken into original characters, it's so neat when other people do that with their favorites, when will i manage to do that?' and then immediately realizing 'no ebil you don't actually WANT to do that at ALL even a little bit. the sentiment you are feeling is just It Would Be Convenient if I Could Do That.'
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bi-writes · 6 months
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you don't think ghost likes you very much. (part 2 of this, but can be read standalone) (18+, semi-dark content ahead, ghoap x fem!reader)
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he doesn't like you. no matter what you do, what you wear, what you say, you know he doesn't approve of you, not really.
not like johnny.
johnny adores the ground you walk on. his lips are always on you. in your ear, along your neck, against your collarbone. his tongue is warm, and it slides along your jaw, around your fingers, sucking on your skin.
"what a nice gift, LT," he always says. "got the nicest pussy 'v e'er had." and then he puts those eyes on, those big, soft, blue ones, and he asks, "can i keep 'er, LT? can i have 'er?"
and johnny is so good. johnny does what he's asked of. johnny says yes, he never says no. johnny smiles and nods and does what he is told, and so johnny gets to have you.
johnny gets to keep you.
but you are a pet, and you are nothing more, and ghost never lets you believe otherwise. he doesn't even give you his name; it's ghost, and ghost only, and he never touches you. not the way the johnny does.
he competes with you, but it isn't a competition. johnny doesn't listen to you, not if ghost contradicts you. he will win, and he will win every time, and even though you are aware of this, he reminds you, all the time.
"johnny, please--" you sob, and he laughs, rubbing his stubble against your thigh gently. it's wet, because he's slobbered all over your cunt, and your hole pulses because it wants more. "johnnny...j-johnny, please--"
"oh, relax, my little lamb..." he sucks your clit into his mouth gently, suckling on the puckered bud. you whine at that, reaching down, pulling on the long strands of hair down the middle of his head, and he groans. "makin' a right mess..."
you're crying. tears falling down your face, pleasure like fire at the base of your spine and crawling up your back, and you reach up and squeeze the swell of your breasts, pulling on your nipples gently. johnny always gets you here--right at the top of a glorious fucking hill, and when you come down it, he carries you, keeping you high for as long as he can before he tries again and again and again--
"fuck are y' doing?" a rough voice growls. johnny's ripped off of you, his back arching as a gloved hand yanks on his head. johnny grunts, hissing, and you whine when you see ghost gripping him by his neck, holding the back of his head to his chest. "spoiled. you spoil her, johnny."
"she's so pretty, LT...i--"
"you spoil her." ghost tilts his head to the side, and you see his eyes narrow, a harsh glare at you from under the mask that makes you shake a little. "spoil her fuckin' rotten."
he doesn't let you come. he's a selfish motherfucker.
you don't know why he doesn't like you. for all intents and purposes, he chose you. and he had all but asked you to leave. tortured you, yes, but he hasn't asked you to leave. he still wants you here, doesn't he? if he hated you, if he was jealous, if he really disapproved of you, a man such as he would just kick you out, wouldn't he?
johnny and ghost are gone today. you're alone, and you've decided to occupy your time by cleaning. you put away the clean dishes, fold the laundry that was stuck in the dryer, pick up around the kitchen. ghost keeps the place very clean--but they were pressed for time in the morning, so johnny left you with the softest kisses, and ghost with just a grunt.
you're arranging fresh flowers in the living room when you hear the front door shut. you bounce into the hallway, a big smile on your face ready to greet johnny, but you freeze when you see only one big shadow shrugging off his rain jacket.
ghost is by himself, and he rolls out his neck as he toes off his boots. he hangs up his jacket, still not looking at you.
"wot?" he snaps. "cat got your tongue, little rabbit?"
you swallow, shaking your head.
"sorry...i thought...thought it was johnny."
"yeah? and wot? just 'cause it's not johnny, gonna not greet me like y'should, yeah?" he bites. you stand still for another minute before coming towards him. you lean up on your toes and kiss his cheek, but when you pull away, he reaches down and grips your ass tight, forcing your pelvis against his and rumbling low. he snarls a little, and you tilt your head back as he presses the front of his mask against your lips, kissing you through it. "tha'sit. good girl."
a soft sound comes out of you, a moan, a whimper, you aren't sure, but he smacks your ass gently, nodding his head.
"go on," he mutters. "on the couch."
he eyes you as you walk away.
"'n why the fuck are y'wearin' all those clothes?"
your insides warm at that, and you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder.
"oh. sorry." you slide your sweats off and toss them aside. it's then that ghost realizes you're wearing his shirt. he runs a hand over his taut stomach, adjusting himself shamelessly in his jeans as he watches you bend over to get onto the couch. you wear no panties, and he hums under the mask, tilting his head to the side.
"johnny got held up on base," he murmurs, coming into the living room. you take a seat on the couch, looking up at him, squeezing your thighs together.
"so...we're all alone?" you ask. this is your chance. this is the opportunity you have been waiting for. with no johnny to distract him, all he has is you, and he can't ignore you. not this time.
"all alone, sweetheart."
you swallow hard. "why don't you like me?"
the question is blunt and clear. ghost clicks his tongue under the mask, focusing on you, and he shakes his head.
"tha' isn't wot it is."
"then what is it?"
he just stares, and you shake your head. you need answers. you need to know what you're doing wrong--you want to be good.
"not you, luvie. it's my boy, my poor johnny..." you watch as he grips himself through his jeans again, visibly hard as he squeezes his cock over his zipper. "fuckin' annoying when he isn't the center of attention. my attention. you understand, right?"
you watch him, licking your bottom lip.
"b-but...but--"
"turns into a bloody muppet. pouts like a baby." ghost comes closer, leaning over you, gripping your chin gently. "wot, huh? thought i didn't want y'around?" you whimper when he squeezes your face between his big hand, squishing your cheeks. "'n how could i not, yeah? look at ya..."
he growls under the mask.
"y'wet, sweetheart?" he asks, and you lean back, spreading your knees, and he grunts when he sees between your thighs. the skin is wet, soft and slick, and he hums lowly when he sees how you clench around nothing. "wanna taste, luv. give it t'me."
you reach down gently, sliding two fingers through your folds. you whine a little, scooping a nice handful of slick, and then you pick up your fingers for him. he pushes his mask up, and you shiver when you see the wicked grin on his scarred face. then he takes your fingers into his mouth.
he leans over you. his mouth his hot, and you shake a little when his tongue slips over your fingers, warm muscle swallowing as he tastes you.
"fuckin' hell," he murmurs when he lets your fingers go. "know why johnny spends all his time down there, yeah?"
you giggle, arching your back a little, pulling his shirt up.
"ghost...why dont...why dont you come here?" you reach for the waistband of his pants, tugging gently, and he falls over you on the couch. you meet his eyes as you start to unbutton his jeans. "i want you to spend time here, too, y'know."
"tha' right, sweetheart?"
you smile, "y-yeah." you unzip his pants, your jaw falling open when you pull him out. he's so big, nice and girthy and pretty, and the tip is so pink, dribbling precum and just aching for your tongue to taste him. you rub your thumb over the tip, and he hisses. "and...a-and i love johnny..." you look back up into his eyes. "b-but...i..."
he reaches around and fists your hair, growling against your lips.
"need a right beast to fuck this pretty pussy, yeah? need someone to--" you cry out as he yanks your head back, exposing your neck to him. "--fuckin' ruin ya."
you squeal, arching your back, and he chuckles, but it's mean. you wrap your arms around his neck, and he leans down, resting his forehead against yours.
"yah, luv, y'r mine, just as much as johnny--" you gasp when he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, "y'belong to me. gonna write my name across your fuckin' cunt, sweetheart, fuck that idea right into your pretty head--"
you cry when he fucks you. when he sits up on his knees, gripping you from under your thighs, fucking into you with a reckless rhythm that leaves your thighs shaking and warm tears coming down your face.
"look at you..." ghost hisses, and you cry more, keening as he stares down at where you're connected and the squelch of you dribbles down his thighs. "bloody hell..."
your back bows, your thighs clamping around ghost's hips as he fucks you into the mattress. you can barely think, the only sensation you can really absorb is the way his thighs smack against your ass and the feel of his big, gloved hands spreading you open.
"just needed me right here, yeah?" ghost grunts, slowing his pace as he nestles his pelvis right against yours. you whine; he's so deep, it hurts, but it hurts so good, you don't tell him to stop, you can't. he's so much bigger than johnny, in every way, and you feel suffocated, but if this is how you die, so be it. getting fucked brainless is not the worst way to go, not like this. you gasp when he smooths a big hand over your stomach, pressing the pad of his thumb to where you know the tip of his cock sits. "right there, luv, tha' place is for me, yeah? 's mine, my spot--"
ghost leans down, growling against your neck, a firm grind of his hips punching your cervix again. you claw at ghost's back, and it's painfully obvious how desperate you are--you nearly rip ghost's shirt in pieces.
"this place is for me," he murmurs, spreading his fingers. he grips your waist in both hands and gives you a hard thrust, leaning his head back as he feels you clench hard. you like it when he talks, he can tell--the sound of his voice has you that much wetter, and he clicks his tongue as he leans back, rubbing a gloved thumb over your pretty little clit. "wanna live here...want ya to be my little pet..." he smirks under the mask when you cry, so sensitive. "whenever i want, want you bent over, spread nice 'n wide f'me." he hums low, "whenever i want, yeah?"
he talks like you aren't there. like he isn't cock-deep inside of you, molding the soft places of your pussy to the shape of him. ghost, despite being a little breathless, has no tremble in his voice despite how hot he feels, and he knows, suddenly, why johnny fawns over you. there is nothing that compares to this--there is nothing quite like fucking this pretty princess, watching her tits bounce, her thighs shake, feeling how soft and lovely she is when he gets her right where she belongs--stupid and cumming.
"a princess ya are, yeah?" ghost chuckles. "a right spoiled one, innit?"
and maybe you are a little spoiled. you had no idea you would be getting two for one--johnny and his looming shadow.
you grip ghost's shirt from the front tight, balling it up in tight fists and pulling him close.
"please!" you squeal. "please, please, please--" you moan and sob against the front of his mask. "w-wanted you for so long--w-wanted--"
"ya did?" ghost tilts his head to the side, picking up the pace. he cradles your head between his arms, pressing his face to yours. "even though i was a bastard?"
you mewl, nodding, reaching down and gripping his lower back as he grinds mercilessly. the curls at the base of his cock are rubbing against your clit now, and you angle your hips to catch the feeling every time, and you know you're getting close. you're there.
"almost said your name--" you gasp. "w-when...when he..."
"poor thing--" he chuckles. "thought johnny was what you wanted?" he knows you like the way he's fucking you, and he slows down, wanting to see your face and every expression you make. "what you needed?"
you nod. "i need him," you whisper. "but it isn't enough."
"no, you're such a greedy bunny--" he grips your face tight, sitting up, and you cry when he fucks you. he's an animal, he's lost control, and you are helpless under him. all you can do is spread your knees wider and moan. "johnny can't tame you, but i can, yeah?"
you meet his eyes, big and soft and wet, and he hisses. the look in your eyes, he cums instantly, falling over you and barely having enough time to put his hand out and catch himself. you gasp at the feeling, reaching down, and with a few soft circles of your fingers, ghost lets out a strangled sound as he feels you tighten and cum. the front of his thighs are soaked, and he nudges your chin up with his nose as he breathes in the scent of you from your neck.
"don't say of word of this to 'im, yeah? got ourselves a jealous little bastard," he murmurs against your ear. you nod, and when he kisses you, you can't help the way you relax. cupping his scarred face, licking into his mouth--ghost is your keeper, and he's johnny's keeper, and you know suddenly why johnny does whatever he says, whenever he wants.
ghost is in charge. he just is, and even though you're just a little, innocent civilian, ghost has given you orders, and you will follow them. there is a soft, aching place inside of you that wants to please him so badly--wants to impress him, show him how good you can be. and you imagine, wonder, if johnny has that same feeling in him, that same little press on the inside of his ribs that screams, be a good boy, a good girl, do just as he says, he'll give such a nice reward.
and when johnny comes home, there you are, all soft smiles and tender touches and little giggles that make his belly hurt so nice. and when he tells you he's hungry, you spread your legs, using two fingers to show him your pretty, wet cunt. and he dives in, like he always does, because one of his favorite places is feeling the rub of your thighs against his stubble and your fingers tugging his hair.
his tongue spreads your folds, and he hums with delight when you fall onto your back, pliant and soft and warm. and then he tastes you, and he swallows, and his eyes flicker when there is something else there, something that he knows.
johnny's eyes dart up, looking over you, and he can see ghost lingering in the doorway, watching, and then johnny understands what it is he tastes--and why he likes it so fucking much, and why it tastes like something he knows.
he meets ghost's eyes, and they look at each other, and johnny knows what it is that he's done, what it is he's eating out of you. but ghost knows johnny is a good boy, and he won't pull away, he won't make a scene. no. johnny pulls back a little, wiping his face.
he smiles. and then he leans in for more.
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rbfclassy · 5 months
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WANNA GET NASTY! — JJK MEN
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SYNOPSIS...kinks that the jjk men secretly have
INFO...jjk men x fem!reader, impact play (smacking, spanking), breeding, overstimulation, gojo is a switch, oral mentioned (f & m), p in v, agoraphilia (public sex), anal, bondage, name calling (slut), degradation, pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel), not proofread
OTHER...likes and reblog are appreciated
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TOJI — IMPACT PLAY
toji is definitely into impact play, he loves smacking your ass, slapping your face or your sensitive cunt. His favorite part about all of it is the little whines your makes when it hurts just a little too much. That teary look you give him always spreads a smile across his face. But you're always begging him for me because you're just that much of a slut for him, begging to cum because the multiple slaps to your clit have teetered you close to the edge. A deep chuckle leaves his lips, seeing your pouty lips before he slaps you across your face. "Always a pretty girl for me, huh, baby?"
NANAMI — BREEDING
as much as nanami is a calm and tamed man, something tells me that this man is completely feral in bed. Im talking pounding deep into you, grunting and growling in your ear, telling you to be a good girl and take it. He has you in mating press, fucking you so deep in good and he just can't get the thought of breeding you out of his head. He wants to fill you up and watch it leak from your hole, marking you as his. So...that's what he does. He pushes deep inside you and fills you up to the brim, forcing you to take all of it. He watches the way your eyes go wide before you let out a soft moan. Now, all he wants to do is fill you up again...good thing his dick is still hard. "Wanna fill up this pretty pussy, breed it, it's so fuckin' perfect."
GOJO — OVERSTIMULATION
whether its you or him, gojo is in love with overstim. He likes watching you squirm, panting like a dog in heat when he laps at your sensitive clit after making you cum for a third time. You're trying to push his head away, but your attempts are weak because deep down he knows you wanna cum again. If you overstim him, expect tears. Whether you're riding him, giving him a blowjob, handjob, he will be in tears if you keep going. But don't let that fool you because baby boy is begging you to keep going, asking to cum with red teary eyes. His hips jolt upward, toes curl but don't you dare stop. His second orgasm is always more intense than his first, it makes him feel like he's on a high. "Oh, please, please, don't stop, baby! Keep fucking me, yeah, yeah, just like that!"
GETO — PUBLIC SEX
geto loves getting nasty in public areas, not to mention the idea of getting caught turns him too. His fingers will so casually slip under your dress while you two are out shopping, so easily slipping into your cunt. He's smirking against your ear while he stands behind you, slowly pumping his fingers in and out. Not to mention in public parks, he won't make you wear any panties, just so when you sit on his lap, he can't easily fuck you. You try hard to cover up your moans and whimpers, biting down on your lip when you feel him buck his hips upwards. He's so smug, staring directly at anyone who dares to look your way, smirking at them while you slowly ride him in public. "You gotta be quiet, angel. Wouldn't want us to get caught now, would you? Or maybe you do cause you're such a slut for my dick."
CHOSO — ANAL
at first, chose would be curious about anal because of all the times he's seen it in porn. the idea would just get the better of him and he'd want to know what'd it feel like for him to stick his dick somewhere that wasn't your mouth or pussy. so lets just say when he felt it the first time, he could barely thrust into you without wanting to cum. it exceeded his expectations, so warm and tight, not mention, it made it 100x better that you are enjoying it too. so now he goes out of his way to buy you butt plugs, the cute little ones with the jewel on them. he makes you wear them all day before he finally comes home and fucks your ass. "Feels so fucking good, sweetheart, taking me so fucking well."
HIGURUMA — BONDAGE
hiromi loves seeing his pretty girl all tied up. to him, its like a birthday present waiting to be unwrapped. you're lying on the bed all tied up in your favorite color rope. he loves when he comes home, finding you sitting on the bed naked with the rope in your hands, waiting for him to tie you up. it does something to him when you struggle against it, especially when he's teasing you, ghosting his fingers over your skin, traveling near your pussy. you're so helpless its cute. though he would never hurt you, he could do whatever he wants to you, drive you crazy until your begging him to fuck you. "You look so pretty like this, all wrapped up for me like a little present."
SUKUNA — BLOOD PLAY
now of course sukuna would be into blood play...look at him. that man is not nice or sweet in any way possible. he likes dragging his sharp nails across the soft parts of your skin during sex, watching the way your skin cuts open and the crimson liquid leaks out. it makes him crazy seeing your blood trickle down your tits and over your stomach before he licks it all up, savoring your taste. he always finds a way to mark you, making you bleed as he fucks deep into you, nails digging into the plush flesh of your thighs cause he's gripping them so hard. "I'll mark you however I wish, just so I could savor your taste on my tongue."
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javierpena-inatacvest · 6 months
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Whatever My Wife Wants
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Summary: On your honeymoon, Javi decides to break out a new accessory you've never seen him wear before. Little does he know, that seeing him wear a chain for the first time is about to drive you wild.
Word Count: 4.5K
Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)
Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also its your honeymoon so who am I to say), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, paise kink, literally the biggest, fattest, ugliest breeding kink (I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not), marriage kink (?) creampie, cum play, kind of exhibitionism (like if you SQUINT), talks of starting a family, Javi LOVES his wife, Javi in a CHAIN, Javi on his honeymoon deserves its own warning, did I mention that Javi LOVES his wife?!
A/N: shoutout to my sweet @honeyedmiller for this request after reblogging this MASTERPIECE from @enstatia. It's supposed to be a painting of Din, but it gave me such big Javi vibes, and I really haven't been the same since picturing the one and only Javier Peña in a chain (bc If i can't unsee it, you shouldn't be allowed to either) 😵‍💫 Also shoutout to Lucien Flores for singlehandedly ruining my life today with that new clip from the Uninvited (but also you can't tell me that this outfit is so Javi on the beach coded PHEW)
Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!
Javi had never been one for jewelry- well, that was until a few days ago when a new golden wedding band had made a home on his hand. Since you had slipped it on his finger, Javi couldn’t get enough of watching it glisten in the warm, tropical sunlight on your honeymoon, a reminder that filled his heart to the brim to know that he was yours forever. 
Javi’s new wedding ring was the only jewelry that he had ever pictured himself wearing, until you had mentioned to him in passing while shopping for new clothes for your honeymoon how good he’d look with a chain to go with any of his outfits he had planned for the trip- considering there was no way Javi was going to have no less than 4 buttons undone on his shirt at any given time while basking in the tropical warmth of your honeymoon paradise. 
Later on that week, he had dug around in his dresser to find a thin, golden chain necklace he had back from his time in college, that hadn’t seen the light of day in too many years to count. But, given your enthusiasm for the idea of him wearing something like it, Javi had decided to pack it with him in his suitcase to surprise when the time felt right. 
Well, after being a few drinks deep at the pool bar from earlier, Javi’s slightly tipsy confidence had him feeling like now was the perfect time to try out his new accessory to see what you thought. Digging through his suitcase, he pulled out out the chain to go with the rest of his outfit for your dinner on the beach, clipping the necklace around his neck as he looked himself over in the mirror, quickly fixing his hair and adjusting his shirt, undoing one more button than probably necessary to show off his new look. 
And while he could admit that he didn’t look half bad with it on, and figured you’d like the new surprise addition to his wardrobe, there’d be no way in hell he could have ever prepared himself for the viscerally awestruck reaction you’d have to the thin, gold chain dangling around his neck.  
“I can practically feel you burning a hole through my chest, Hermosa.” Javi chuckled, raising an eyebrow at you as he took another bite of his food, giving you a playful smirk at the way you had been ogling at him ever since you had noticed the thin gold chain resting across his tanned skin as you began your walk through the hotel to head to dinner. 
“Oh shut up, it’s not my fault you’re so hot. You’re making it very hard not to look, in my defense.” You sighed, trying to get yourself to focus on your food instead of staring at Javi for the rest of dinner, despite the fact that the only meal you had your eyes on was sitting across the table from you. “There’s already something about you being my husband that makes you somehow even hotter than you already were, and now with this?” You picked up your fork, gesturing to the chain dangling between the parted fabric of Javi’s shirt, “I think you may be trying to legitimately kill me.” 
“Figured you’d like it. Didn’t think you’d like it this much.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip before taking another bite of food, his cheeks growing flushed and warm as he looked at you admiring him, wondering how in the hell he had gotten so goddamn lucky. “Thanks, Mrs. Peña.” He laughed, taking another bite of his food, shooting you a quick wink. 
Mrs. Peña. 
God, if that alone wasn’t enough to send you over the edge already, your new last name, combined with the incredibly attractive man you had gotten it from that you now got to call your husband? On top of that stupidly hot chain he had decided to throw on with his outfit? There was definitely something else you were hungry for other than the half cleared plate below you. 
It was then that you couldn’t have been happier you had been seated at a table on the edge of the beachside boardwalk, tucked behind a few stray palm trees, secluded enough out of view that you had no problem reaching under the table to rest your hand on Javi’s knee, toying with the hem of his shorts before letting your fingers creep further and further up his thigh. 
“Are you almost done with your food?” You asked, your voice sweet and sultry as your hand brushing against Javi’s crotch immediately caught his attention, making his eyes go wide as he sat up straight, setting down his knife and fork to look down in his lap. “Because if you are, I can think of something else I want for dessert when we go back to our room. Something I want really bad. You wanna feel how badly I want it?” 
Javi swallowed hard as your fingers wrapped more firmly around his bulge, gently massaging his dick in your grasp, before grabbing his hand and guiding it to brush along the slit of your sundress and closer to your core, aching and dripping with arousal. Letting his fingers creep up the inside of your thighs and ghost over your folds, his eyes went even wider, jaw practically dropping open to feel that you were not only absolutely soaked, but also not wearing any underwear at all. Using every ounce of composure he had to keep from falling apart right then and there at the dinner table, letting out a deep sigh as he cursed under his breath. 
“Jesus fucking Christ. Fuck, baby… Yeah, I can be done right now.” He groaned, nodding at your proposition before wrapping his hand around the meat of your thigh as he took a long inhale, staring you down with darkening eyes and a devilish grin across the table. 
Never had you been more thankful that the resort you had picked to stay at was all inclusive, because if either of you had to wait a minute longer for a server to get your bill so you could get back up to your room, the probability of impending implosion would have been practically inevitable. 
Firmly intertwining your fingers with his as  you grabbed his hand, you were nearly dragging Javi through the hotel to the nearest bay of elevators, pleasantly shocked to find no one else waiting with you to travel up to their room, leaving the two of you alone to catch the next elevator back up to your floor. 
Without a word, the second the elevator doors had closed, the two of you were on top of each other, a messy dance of tongue and teeth crashing together, Javi’s hands palming the meat of your ass over your dress while yours roamed over his chest, tracing the freckles of his tanned skin up to the golden chain dangling in the open buttons of his shirt, stopping to wrap the necklace around your finger, tugging Javi closer to you. 
“Fuck, you look so good with this on, baby.” You moaned, your words hot against Javi’s skin as you nipped at his neck, chain still tangled in your grasp. “I can’t wait to fu-”
Barely aware of the fact that you had reached your floor, the ding of the elevator was enough to catch your attention and cut you off from completing the rest of your thought before the doors slid open, revealing a group of couples waiting for their ride down to the lobby. Frantically trying to play off the fact that if the elevator ride had gone any longer, you two definitely would have been seconds away from fucking in it, you gulped, giving Javi a nudge to his ribs to bring him back to reality, the two of you quickly trying to slide past the other guests without making a scene. 
As the door closed behind you, you and Javi couldn’t help but giggle at the fact that you couldn���t seem to take an elevator trip alone without almost being caught making out like a pair of horny teenagers (which, to be fair, a pair of horny teenagers probably would have had more self control than the two of you being newlyweds on your honeymoon). 
With your room only being a few doors down from the elevator, Javi began fumbling in the pocket of his shorts for his room key, working around the full hard on he already had under the fabric from how pent up he was. Quietly cursing under his breath until he found it, as soon as the card was swiping over the lock of the door, Javi was yanking you through into your room, instantly beginning to pull down the zipper to the back of your dress as you fumbled your way back to the bed. 
Your dress fell to the floor in a crumpled pile before Javi was tossing you onto the mattress, shocked to see that you also hadn’t even bothered to put on a bra, revealing your glowing skin and obnoxious tanlines from your time spent out in the sun. 
“Dirty fucking girl, not wearing anything underneath that dress for me. Fuck me, Hermosa. God, you’re so beautiful. So fucking perfect. My perfect wife.” Javi growled, dropping to his knees at the edge of the bed to part your legs, draping them over his shoulders as he admired the wet mess between your thighs, your slick already coating your folds, glistening in the dim light of your hotel room. “My perfect wife and her perfect fucking pussy already so wet for me. 
Dragging his fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal as he ghosted over your throbbing clit, you let out a soft whimper in protest, sitting up on your elbows to look down at Javi, peppering kisses along the soft skin of your thighs. 
“Javi, fuck- Baby, I wanted to go down on you. You look so good, I-I wanna taste you, Jav, p-please.” You moaned, your argument becoming less and less convincing as his kisses traveled to your center, nose brushing against your aching bundle of nerves before looking up at you with a lustful smirk, tightening his grip around your hips to hold you in place. 
Javi shook his head as he laughed quietly to himself, watching you squirm and buck your hips towards his face, so desperately worked up and aching that the mess between your legs was really beginning to contradict your need to get Javi off before yourself. 
“Cariño…” Javi tutted, almost mockingly, digging his fingertips deeper into the meat of your flesh, “You’re not going anywhere ‘till I get a taste. I can’t leave my poor wife all worked up like this, can I?” 
Before you had a chance to respond, the flat of Javi’s tongue was dragging through your heat in a long, broad stroke, firmly pressing against your clit, looking up at you with a satisfied grin as you threw your head back in pleasure, a soft whimper escaping from your parted lips. As the last of his lick slid through your folds, you shuttered at the feeling of the metal of his chain ghosting over your cunt as it dangled from his neck, only to cry out as you could feel the other piece of jewelry he was wearing on his left ring finger sink deep into your entrance. 
“Oh f-fuck-” You whimpered as another finger breached your tight hole, already sucking him in with your warm, wet walls while his digits curled, bumping against the sweet spot inside you that he knew made you crumble. 
“That’s it, baby girl.” He cooed, thrusting his fingers in and out of your cunt before diving back between your legs like a man starved, his tongue dancing in a swirling pattern of flicks and strokes between your folds as he lapped you up. You could feel yourself rolling your hips against his hand, whining at how thick and full he felt inside you, even more so now with the wedding band that had made its permanent home on his finger, taking every chance he could get to watch you cover the glistening gold ring in your arousal as yet another way to prove that you were his. 
Javi could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around his fingers as your bottom half squirmed against the sheets of the bed, the knot in your stomach beginning to tighten, tingling building at the base of your spine. Latching his lips around your clit, he began to suck at your sensitive nub, his hand thrusting faster and deeper into your cunt, feeling you slowly coming undone under his touch. 
“Oh shit- fuck, fuck, Javi, I’m so close baby, oh fuck, fuck, I’m gonnaaahhhhhh-” Just like that, you were falling over the brink of collapse, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave, pleasure flowing through every inch of your veins as you met your high, feeling the smirk of Javi’s smile pressed against your cunt as you soaked his face, his free hand wrapped around your hip, holding you in place for him. 
“Fuck, I swear, I’ll never fucking get over that.” Javi mewled, pulling back enough to sit on his heels, admiring the wet and puffy mess your pussy had become, gently pulling his fingers out of your heat, looking down at the way your arousal coated his fingers, covering his wedding band. “Fucking soaked me, Hermosa. You like feeling my ring when I touch you like that, baby? Knowing I’m all yours forever?” 
With your chest heaving in heavy breaths, you nodded frantically, blissed out look plastered across your face as you stared up at Javi, lust pooling in the dark brown of his eyes as he brought his soaked fingers to your mouth, tugging at your bottom lip as, opening your mouth for you to suck him clean, the warm and tangy taste of you still fresh on his skin. 
“You taste so fucking sweet, baby. Mi esposa sabes muy dulce.” (My wife tastes so sweet) Javi cooed, gently tugging his fingers out of your mouth, standing up to lean over the bed, caging your body under his as his lips crashed against yours in a needy mess of longing and desperation. 
You could feel how painfully hard he was through the fabric of his shorts, his bulge straining against the seams of his zipper as he rubbed against your thigh, laying on top of you with one arm propped up beside your head, the other gently cupping your face, thumb rubbing back and forth along your cheek as he kissed you with the tender intensity that set your insides ablaze with desire, longing, no, needing to feel him buried deep inside you as you screamed his name. 
It really had been your intention to suck Javi off the moment you had gotten back to your room, to drop to your knees and worship the beautifully handsome man you now got to call your husband and turn him into the same type of moaning, whimpering mess that he had just made you, but with the ferocity of each kiss and the instinctual jerk of Javi’s hips, there was nothing you wanted more than to be filled by the sweet sting of his cock pounding into you, over and over.  
“J-Javi, fuck- I need to feel you baby, please. Fuck, I wanna feel you so deep inside me.” You whispered, your teeth tugging at Javi’s earlobe as he peppered your jaw and neck with kisses, feeling the audible groan in his chest at your request, followed by a deep sigh as he tried to compose himself from the mess he was already becoming. 
“Yeah? That’s what you want, sweet girl? Whatever my wife wants, my wife gets.” He rasped, a devilish grin spread between his cheeks as he sat back to pull his shirt over his head, followed by his shorts and boxers, leaving him in nothing but the gold chain still dangling around his neck as he reached down to stroke his cock, red and dripping with precum before leaning back down to line up with your entrance. 
You could feel your breath hitch as his tip brushed through your folds, rubbing gently against your clit as he collected your arousal to coat his length, looking down to watch as his length sunk deep into your cunt, the both of you letting out ragged moans at the sensation. 
Javi paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the sweet sting of his stretch as he filled you, his tip kissing your cervix while his hips met yours. The fullness made your brain go blank, completely at a loss for words as he began to slowly thrust in and out of you, pulling himself out enough to sink his whole length back into your cunt, each thrust making you whimper and moan, desperate for more. 
“F-fuck, give me more, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your hand wrapping around his bicep, fingertips digging into his flexing muscles. 
“Yeah? You want more, Hermosa?” Javi mewled, smirking to himself at the blissed out mess you were already becoming as the pace of his hips rutting into you began to quicken. 
As each thrust became faster, the gold chain draped around his neck began to bounce against his chest, his body close enough to yours to feel the cool metal brush against your face with each snap of his hips into yours, the sight of his necklace dangling over you as you stared up at the furrowed and focused look painting his face. The image alone of him wearing that chain was enough to make you feel like you were going to cum on the spot, but as you lay caged beneath the weight of his broad body, feeling nothing but his warm skin and chain rub against you, you were nearly convinced it was going to be over for you right then and there. 
Without even thinking, you lifted your head up off the bed just enough to grab the chain between your teeth, tugging him closer to you, the sudden yank making his eyes go wide in surprise as the two of you came nose to nose, foreheads brushing against each other before his lips were on yours again, entangling you in an all consuming kiss without faltering in his pace. 
“Fuck, you look so good.” You moaned, your lips parting just enough from his to whisper your praises into his ear. “You look so hot with this fucking chain, Jesus Christ.” 
Your comment had a low, breathy laugh escaping from his chest, shaking his head to himself almost in disbelief at how enthralled you were with him. 
“Me? Baby girl, you have no idea.” He cooed, slowing his thrusts to sit back on his haunches, readjusting you to bring your knees pressed to your chest, leaning back down, running his hands along your body, up your arms until he had them above your head, pinned down to the bed in his grasp. “You know how many guys I’ve seen staring at you since we’ve been here? How many dirty fucking looks I’ve had to give them? Maybe this ring on your finger isn’t enough, mi amor.” 
“W-what do you, fuck- what do mean?” You whimpered, the new position opening you up in a way that had you feeling every inch of Javi as he sank his cock even deeper into your cunt, splitting you open in the most delicious way possible, your brain barely working enough to let your words escape from your mouth. 
“I mean,” Javi groaned, tightening his grip to hold you in place, his eyes growing darker with desire with another deep, long thrust into your heat, “That maybe, I need to fuck a baby into, Osita. Fuck a baby into my beautiful fucking wife, and let everyone see that you’re mine with our kid growing inside you.” 
Javi’s words sent a shiver down your spine, the thought alone making you whimper- You and Javi both had undeniable cases of baby fever, and now that you were finally married and had agreed that your birth control wasn’t going to be a part of your packing list, the prospect that in 9 months from now, you could have a third member to your family? That was enough to have you close to finishing right then and there. 
 A gulp traveling down your throat before a long exhale, trying to find the words to respond to his proposition, your voice trembling in an anxious excitement. 
“F-fuck- Oh my god, yes. Fuck a baby into me, Javi. Let me, oh shit- let me make you a daddy.” 
“Jesus Fucking Christ…” Javi groaned, gritting his teeth, trying his best to maintain his own composure, taking a long exhale before his gaze met yours again, a fierce kind of determination and promise pooling in the deep chocolate brown of his eyes, leaning his body on top of yours, pushing your knees closer to your chest, opening you up to an even deeper angle as his mouth crashed into yours, beginning to pick up his pace once again as his hips snapped into yours. “That’s what  you want, Hermosa? Fuck, I’ll give it to you, baby. Oh shit- Whatever my wife wants, my wife gets, remember? You want a baby? Fuck- I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you I’ll fuck a baby into you right now.” 
You could feel the all too familiar tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine once again, Javi’s cock pounding perfectly into your g-spot over and over again, the hairs at the base of his length grinding against your throbbing clit, sending you to the brink of collapse with each thrust in and out of your cunt. 
“Yes, oh my god- yes, I w-want it so bad. P-please, baby, fuck.” You whined, starting to stumble over your words as you could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around his cock, the coil in your core tightening to the point of nearly snapping. 
“Fuck- say it again. Tell me- mierda- tell me how badly you want it.” Javi moaned, his thrusts becoming slopier and more desperate as he could feel himself on the verge of chasing his own high, knowing all too well you were almost hitting yours.  
“I want you to fill me up, Javi. Fuck, fuck, fuck- I want it so bad. I want you to knock me up and give me a baby, please, baby, oh my god- please.” You were all but panting at this point, your legs starting to tremble as your cunt clenched tighter and tighter around Javi’s cock, the overwhelming sensation of his fullness, promise of pregnancy, and that damn chain dangling in your face was enough to finally send you over the edge. “Fuck, Javi, fuck, fuckfuckfuck, I’m so close baby, I’m gonna, oh shit- I’m gonna cu-ahhhhhhh.” 
Those were the last words you were able to muster before you were screaming out Javi’s name as you came, euphoria and ecstasy radiating through every inch of your body, your orgasm crashing through you with so much intensity you could have sworn you were seeing stars. 
Watching you fall apart beneath him, soaking his cock in your arousal as you came had Javi only moments behind you, the rhythm of his hips beginning to stutter, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping against each others combined with your wanton moans and whimpers and curses under your breath making him begin to babble incoherently. 
“That’s it, Osita. That’s my good girl. Fucking soak my cock, baby. Cum all over me before I, fuck me- fuck myself so deep in you it’ll fucking take. Holy fuck- Fuck, I’m gonna cum too. Gonna fucking fill you up. Give you all of me. Fuck, I’ll give you everyting, baby, mierda- everything you’ll ever wa-ahhhhhh” 
With one last final thrust, Javi was spilling deep inside you, warm ropes of his spend coating your walls, milking himself of every single last drop before collapsing on top of you, the warmth and weight and of his body sinking on top of your chest as the two you sighed in sync, trying to catch your breath with long, labored huffs. 
As Javi felt himself begin to soften, a groan rumbled low in his chest while he pulled out, feeling the mix of your spend dripping out your hole, coating the inside of your thighs in glistening juices. You let out an involuntary whimper at the loss of fullness inside you, your head falling back on the mattress in blissed out satisfaction, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to bring yourself back to reality after floating away in post-colotial bliss. 
“Holy fuck…” You whispered to yourself, lifting your head back up to see Javi sitting back on his heels, admiring the mess of the two of you pooling between your legs. 
“So fucking pretty, Hermosa.” He mewled, peppering kisses down the soft skin of your thighs, making his way back towards your core. Before you could even realize what was happening, Javi’s head was back between your legs, one broad stroke of his tongue collecting the tangy, salty mixture leaking out of your cunt and lapping it back into your entrance quickly replacing his mouth with his fingers to push the mixture of your spend even further into you. 
Looking up at you, slick covering his mustache and smug grin spread between his cheeks, Javi curled his fingers just enough to make you yelp as he pressed against your g-spot, considering how worked up and overstimulated you already were. 
“Gotta make sure I keep you full of me, baby. Can’t let anything go to waste.” Javi smirked, gently pulling out his fingers, resting his hands on your thighs, drawing soft circles on your skin with his thumbs. 
You tried to sit back up, propping yourself on your elbows before Javi’s body was caging over you once again, slowly lowering himself down until your back was flat against the bed, cradling your jaw as guided you down with soft, slow kisses, feeling his chain brush against your chin he pulled away from your lips. 
“You’re not going anywhere, Momma. My wife wants a baby? Then I’m doing everything I can to give her one. Whatever she wants.” Javi smirked, pressing a tender kiss onto your forehead as his hand caressed your face, brushing your skin just gently enough to tickle you, a little giggle escaping from your lips as your eyes met his sweet puppy dog ones. 
“You’re ridiculous, you menace.” You laughed, playfully nudging Javi as he rolled over next to you on the side of the bed, wrapping his arm around you, tugging you to lay against his bare chest, your hand draping over his stomach before crawling up his chest, wrapping his gold chain around your fingers. “Hmmmm whatever your wife wants, huh?” You smirked, looking up at him with a mischievous grin. 
“Whatever she wants, Hermosa.”
“Your wife wants you to never take this damn thing off again.” 
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Taglist:
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4K notes · View notes
munson-blurbs · 16 days
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Summary: Your rockstar boyfriend comes home early and finds you very needy. But he already knows that, doesn't he?
WC: 1.9k
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), pure breeding kink, unprotected p in v, masturbation (m & f), mention of ovulation and periods, voyeurism if you squint, rockstar!Eddie Munson, established relationship
A/N: a collaboration with the love of my life @corroded-hellfire, based on the song Juno by Sabrina Carpenter.
--
Eddie Munson may have failed a few classes—there was a reason he had three senior years—but sex ed wasn’t one of them. He learned how to use a condom, that girls could get pregnant their first time, and the difference between a pad and a tampon (living with his Uncle Wayne kept that conversation at bay.)
But the lesson Eddie recalls now is that ovulation occurs about seven days after your last period. Which, according to the pocket calendar he keeps stashed away during touring, is today. 
It isn’t like he asks about your cycle, but when he calls from the road, you’ll mention when you have cramps or you’ve just taken a Midol. At first, he tracked your periods so he could make sure the house had a plethora of chocolate during that awful week, but then he began noticing…other patterns. 
Two months ago, you’d initiated phone sex, whining about how badly you needed him inside you, needed his cum, needed his cum inside you. Last month, you’d cheekily informed him that you’d snapped some Polaroids earlier that day and had express-mailed them to his hotel room—photos that were for his eyes only. Both of those instances occurred two weeks after your period ended. 
This month, Eddie refused to be apart from you when your desire took over. 
That’s how he finds himself ditching the End of Tour party, coming home a day early to surprise you. It’s been months without you, months stuck in close proximity with Gareth, Jeff, and Grant. If Eddie doesn’t get his hands on you soon, he might implode. 
“Babe?”
No answer. 
Eddie frowns, taking the winding stairs two at a time. The light in your bedroom is on, the door slightly ajar. A soft humming comes from inside, the noise interrupted every so often with your unrestrained moans. 
He can’t help but listen for a moment. 
“Eddie…f-fuck…right there…”
If he hadn’t been away for so long, he might have let you enjoy your solo time. Maybe he’d secretly rub one out to your sweet sounds. A high keening sound robs Eddie of his thoughts as he slips his own hand into his pants. 
His mind is blank, no memory of the thoughts that were just floating through his consciousness. Now, there’s only the sound of your breathy moans and the way his fingers wrap around the base of his cock. 
“Eddie,” you whine pathetically, “need you to fill me up, baby. Please, please, please.”
As if his body is running on autopilot in response to what you just said, Eddie removes his hand from his pants and pushes the bedroom door fully open. Your head is thrown back and your eyes are closed in pleasure so you don’t see your boyfriend as he stalks closer to the bed.
“Need your cum, Eddie,” you whimper, body trembling with want. 
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Eddie coos softly, loud enough so you know he’s there, but not enough to scare you or ruin the mood. “I’ll give you everything you want.”
Your eyes fly open at the sound of that sultry voice. The mood in the room begs for you to keep going, to keep working your fingers in and out of your needy hole as Eddie rips his shirt off over his head. But your curiosity is too strong to keep at bay, even with the neediness surging through you.
“E-Eddie?” you ask through labored breath. “What’re you doing home?”
“Skipped out early so I could be with my girl.”
Eddie undoes the buckle on his belt, his eyes locked on yours the entire time. “And it’s a good thing I did. I can’t have my pretty princess all needy for me like this. Let me help you, baby.” Eddie gets the handcuffs off his belt and hangs them on his index finger as he approaches the door of the bed. A dark eyebrow quirks up as he gives you a smirk. “Now that I’m home with these, sweetheart, you don’t need to use those pink fuzzy ones you keep in the drawer.”
“Please,” you whimper.
That one little word is all Eddie needs to hear before he kicks his jeans off and quickly shuffles out of his boxers. He kicks them somewhere to be found at a later time and kneels on the foot of the bed. 
Your dark, lust filled eyes follow his every movement. 
“Eds, can you—”
Eddie grins, already pressing kisses along your inner thighs to your core. “Baby, you don’t gotta tell me what to do. I know this body better than I know my own.”
With that, his tongue finds your clit, licking and sucking with excruciating precision. His ringed fingers wrap around your thighs, pulling them over his shoulders and tugging you close. 
He breathes in, inhaling your scent like it’s a god-sent nectar. 
“Missed my pretty girl and her pretty pussy,” he mumbles into you. “So fuckin’ perfect.”
Your leg twitches as he laps at you, a mixture of his saliva and your arousal pooling beneath you. The noises you’re making are involuntary and straight up obscene. 
“Eddie…Eddie…oh my god, Eddie!” Throwing your head back, you feel your body tense in anticipation of that delicious release. Your orgasm is a tidal wave, crashing over you in a way you hadn’t experienced since Eddie had left for the tour. 
Eddie sits back now, rocking on his heels. “Still got it, huh?” His grin is proud and slick with your sheen. 
“Definitely.”
“Good.” He presses his palms to his thighs and stands up, giving you a better view of his own desire. 
Pre-cum leaks from his tip, his cock rock-hard just from eating you out. You have a strong suspicion that if you’d taken any longer to finish, he would’ve busted before you. 
You want to take him in your mouth, to glide your tongue over the prominent vein and knead his balls until you’re swallowing his load. 
Eddie, however, can only focus on one thing. 
“Heard my pretty girl wants me to fill her up,” he coos. “Is that true? Do you want me to fill you up until my cum drips out of you?”
To his surprise, you shake your head no. 
“Don’t want it to drip out of me. I want to keep all of it inside.”
The groan that emanates from Eddie’s throat fuels a fire in your belly. His cock twitches, the head tapping against his navel. 
“Sounds like you want me to claim you. Permanently.” Not just the hickeys that fade within a few days. No, you want him to—
Without hesitating, Eddie climbs onto the bed and positions himself on top of you. 
“Allow me the honors, sweetheart.” Eddie drags the tip of his cock through your wet center and pushes in with a groan. “Fuck, thassit. Feels even better than I remember.”
You gripped his biceps, relishing in the gentle stretch of him within you. Every tour felt like an eternity, but that first time together each time he came home was worth the wait. 
“Now,” Eddie growled into your ear as he found his pace, “tell me what you want. Tell me what you need from me.”
You scrounge up a reply with the sliver of your mental capacity that isn’t focused on him. “Your baby.”
Eddie smiles, kissing down your jawline. “You need my baby, huh? Need me to put a baby in this cute belly of yours?”
“Mhm. Need that s-so bad, Eddie. Please.” The words tumble from your lips in utter desperation. All you can think about is having his baby, his hands caressing your bump, knowing that he’s the reason you’re pregnant. 
“Goddamn,” Eddie hisses. He buries his head in your neck. “Beg for my baby some more.”
You arch your back, letting him wrap his arm around your waist. “Please give me your baby. Pleasepleaseplease—”
His fingers grip you harder, his movements becoming more erratic with each thrust. You can feel his fingernails digging crescents into your skin. 
“There we go, sweet girl. Fuck, ‘m close…”
You nod, too enraptured in him to even utter the words ‘me, too.’ All you can manage are a few strangled moans as your orgasm washes over you. Your body is light with pleasure, drifting away on a cloud of contentment. 
“Eddie.” The sound of his name on your lips tips him over the edge. It’s just the way you say it, all breathy and soft, that drives him wild. 
With a final groan, Eddie spills into you. “Oh, sh-shit…that’s it. Take it. Take my cum, baby.” There was a primal edge to every word. 
Both spent from all your exertion, Eddie flops down next to you and the only sounds are two ragged breaths as you both attempt to control your breathing. 
Once your bodies have calmed down a bit, Eddie turns on his side and splays one large hand across your lower abdomen. His warm palm is a comforting weight, one that has your eyes slipping closed and a smile coming to your face. 
“You’re home early,” you finally say.
Eddie chuckles and leans in to press a lingering kiss to your shoulder.
“Missed you. Didn’t wanna go to some dumb party if you weren’t going to be there.” He presses another kiss a little higher on your shoulder. “Especially not when you’re ovulating.”
Your heavy eyes open and you let your head fall to the side, coming face to face with your boyfriend.
“How’d you know I was ovulating?”
“I remember when you got your period,” he says. “Just some simple math. I may not have been able to pass geometry, but this kind of math I can do.”
A soft chuckle emanates from your chest and you fully turn on your side to face him. Eddie wastes no time pulling you flush up against his chest, his strong arms winding around you.
“Came here with a mission to knock me up, huh?” you tease, nuzzling your face against the side of his neck. 
“Seemed like an easy decision.” Eddie presses a kiss to the top of your head. “You want to be carrying my baby. I want to get you pregnant. Little Munson Junior wants to be born. Everyone wins.”
You laugh as you bury your face against his shoulder. 
“Would love to have a little you,” you say. 
“Nah, I hope they look like you,” Eddie says. “One of you is already unbearably cute, I can’t wait to have two.”
“Can’t wait to snuggle them,” you say, a lazy smile spreading on your face at the thought. “You, me, and a little baby.”
“Our little baby,” Eddie adds.
“Hopefully this one took,” you say.
“Either way I’m prepared. If you’re not, I’m more than willing to fuck you every waking moment until it sticks. If you are…well, I may have picked up a few pregnancy tests on the way home,” Eddie admits.
“You didn’t.” You look up at your boyfriend, a gleeful chuckle following your words.
“Hell yeah, I did. Corroded Coffin’s latest album and tour are over and done with. It’s time you and I had our own little collaboration.”
“I like the sound of that,” you hum. “We make pretty sweet music together.”
“Oh, we absolutely do.” 
Eddie waggles his eyebrows roguishly before resting his forehead against yours. “But tonight,” he murmurs mischievously, “I’m hoping to hear some screamo.” 
--
1K notes · View notes
robo-writing · 22 days
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NSFW Alphabet - Logan Howlett Edition
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Pairing: Logan Howlett/Reader Warnings: AFAB pronouns, breeding mention, pet names, bodily fluids, p in v actions, no protection, overall horniness, 18+ MDNI. Author's Note: This man is renting space in my synapses, send help.
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
He is so gentle with you, it almost makes you feel like you’re made out of glass. He prefers to hold you close once you’re thoroughly satisfied, enjoying how your body folds into him to be as close as possible.
If you ask him for water and snacks he’s gone within the second, bringing you whatever you need, and then immediately putting you back on his lap so he can feed you. Don’t argue with him on this, he won’t take no for an answer.
You collapse against the sheets with a sigh, legs still shaky from Logan’s excellent bedside service. You’re practically boneless when he pulls you onto his chest, the dark hair tickling your cheek as he cages you in his embrace.
“Logan, I’m sweaty—“
“Do I look like I give a damn princess?” He grumbles, his hands reaching down to smooth over your hair. “Just let me take care of you, alright?”
Your whining is just for show and he knows this, a small part of you feeling guilty because he always treats you with such respect. He’s not sure what kind of assholes you’ve been dating before but he’s damn certain he’ll be the one to teach you how you should be treated.
You melt in his arms, eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of his large hands running down your back. His voice cuts through the silence, far more gentle than you’re used to. 
“Need anything else doll?” He asks, to which you shake your head. 
No, tonight you just need him. 
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B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
He’s an all around man, asking him that is like asking a man to choose between air and food to survive.
He loves playing with your tits, loves biting at the swell of your breasts before sucking on them, loves burying his face in the valley of them—
He loves using your thighs as an anchor when he eats your pussy, rolling his eyes when they squeeze around his head—
He loves the sight of your ass bouncing back when he fucks you into the mattress, the sound of your combined hips ringing loudly in his head—
He really just loves you.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
It only took one time for him to be utterly addicted to your pussy. He refuses to cum anywhere that isn’t inside you at least once, just the sight of it falling from your abuser cunt has him going back for seconds. The sloppy sound of your juices and his cum as he thrusts into you is like asmr.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Masochist to the extreme. You kind of had a feeling with the way he shrugs off pain but you didn’t know how bad it was until you scratched him just a bit too hard while getting your guts rearranged. 
Your nails dig into the meat of his arms, a deep-seated groan erupting from the back of his throat at the feeling. Immediately you look down to see the angry red marks left behind that heal within seconds, an apology on your lips interrupted by his voice growling in your ear.
“Do that again.”
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
The man is over two hundred years old, he lays down pipe like a master plumber. Knows all your spots better than you do, knows exactly what gets you going because he can practically taste the arousal in the air. Those senses of his are no joke.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Missionary so he can see your face, doggystyle so he can fuck a hole into the mattress and breed you. 
Prefers missionary normally if only for the fact that when he puts even half his full weight on your body you’re forced to lie there and take it, unable to so much as squirm while he fucks you within an inch of your life. Enjoys doggy when the beast inside needs to scratch a particular itch that only seeing you ass up with cum dripping down your thighs can reach.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
A wholesome 50/50 of being love-struck and horny, he has his moments of laughter but they’re almost always immediately followed by pure lust. You’d think he’d be super serious all the time but he’s surprisingly gentle. He prefers to watch you enjoy yourself, he’s much more of a service top in that regard.
Want him to eat you out until you’re pushing his head away? Want him to fuck you nice and slow, keeping you right on the edge? Whatever your flavor is, he’s down for a taste.
That’s not to say he doesn’t have his rough moments as well. It’s very easy for him to lose himself so he tries not to go overboard for your safety, but if you ask him to let loose he’s not going easy on you. Just remember when you wake up unable to walk that you asked for this.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Not groomed at all, just an overall hairy man. He’s got the prettiest happy trail from his navel to his dick that makes his eyes roll when you drag your nails across it. If it made you uncomfortable he’d make an effort to trim.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Very intimate, wants you to know just how much you mean to him. Even when he’s being rough with you he makes sure that your comfort is priority. Talks you through it.
You’re face down, ass up, just the way he likes it. Your thighs tremble with the aftershocks of your orgasm, pussy practically drooling for him as your slick dribbles down the plushness of them.
It’s a sight that Logan could never get tired of. 
His fingers rub soothing circles around your sensitive clit, gathering your wetness between two fingers and listening to your breath hitch when he replaces them with his cock, lightly prodding at your entrance.
“How we feelin’ princess?” He asks, coating his length with your juices. 
You mumble praise into the pillow, and sure he can hear it with his enhanced senses, but that’s not the point—he wants you loud and clear.
Gently he lifts you off the bed, a strong arm around your waist as he rocks himself between your swollen folds, lips trailing at your ear as your head rolls back.
“Come on doll, I need to be able to hear you,” he breathes. “Tell me what you want.”
Your hands grab at his arm, a desperate whine on your lips. “Fuck me, please.”
His chuckle reverberates in your ear. “That’s my girl.”
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
When he was younger and still learning how to fight his animal instincts, absolutely. Nowadays he doesn’t really think about it, but occasionally Logan will struggle with keeping his thoughts off of you, especially when you’re wearing something nice and he doesn’t have the time to drag you back to the bedroom. 
He’d prefer if you were the one touching him, but his hand will do for now, if at the very least to hold him over until you get home.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Praise - Like mentioned before, adores talking you through it. Favorite nicknames for you are princess, baby, and sweetheart, and his voice in your ear is like heaven.
Pain Kink - BIG masochist. Use him like a scratching post, he loves it. He’ll never admit it but if you bite his lip hard enough to bleed he’ll moan like a whore.
Primal Play - Come on now, the man is an animal at the best of times and downright feral at the worst. This extends beyond the bedroom too, he’s very protective of his mate girlfriend and would move mountains for her.
Breeding - This is an extension of his primal play, he adores filling you up with his cum, whether or not you get pregnant. Something about the sight of it just screams at him like a claim that only he can give you. It’s his cum that paints your pussy, and no one else gets to have that honor.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Ideally the bedroom but he’s one of those people that couldn’t care less, if he wants you he wants you. It’s going to be up to you to be the voice of reason, and if that fails? Better learn to keep your volume down.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Domestic acts, making him feel like a normal man rather than the weapon the world wants him to be. 
Making him breakfast? His hands are playing with your hips the whole time, whispering sweet nothings against the skin of your neck, swaying to the imaginary rhythm he sets. Cleaning the countertops? He drapes his wide frame across your back, pinning you to the cold granite while he tells you how good your ass looks in your pants, heavy hands making it known just how much he appreciates your attire. Bring him breakfast in bed in nothing but an apron? He’s pulling you into the sheets and not letting you go until you’re screaming his name.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
As much as a masochist he is, the last thing he’d ever do is hurt you. The most you could ever convince him to do is manhandling you or spanking, but the moment he senses anything but enjoyment he’s on his knees apologizing.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Y’all remember what Doja Cat said about big noses? 
If he passes out between your legs he’ll die smiling, if he makes you pass out then he’s never going to let you hear the end of it. Very likely to overstimulate you until you’re pushing him off you, only to pin your hips down and keep on going. Enjoys palming your thighs and burying his face as far into your pussy as he can, his philosophy is if you can still speak he’s not doing well enough.
As for him, he becomes so submissive when you suck him off. It’s the only time he’s guaranteed to let you take the reins, he prefers watching you work rather than taking over. Tucks your hair back, strokes your head, whispers how good you make him feel and how your mouth feels like heaven. When he cums he’ll ask you to open your mouth before swallowing and the sight of your cum-stained lips gets him hard like nothing else.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Normally very sensual, can easily change with the drop of a hat. Long, deep strokes that reach all the right places and make you see stars. Massive service top vibes, one of those lovers that always knows what you need at the moment (he totally can’t hear your heart pounding in your chest, no sir.)
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Yes, and proud to admit it too. Always promises that he’ll be quick, but it never is. He can’t help it, y’know? You make him feel too good.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Yes, but the catch is you have to tell him. You can throw him every hint in the world but he won’t so much as touch you until you use your words. Logan likes hearing how desperate you are, he’s a bit mean like that.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Why would you ever bother asking that? His limit is when you decide to tap out, if even that. 
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Didn’t really understand and thought you were insulting him at first by offering to use toys in the bedroom. It wasn’t until you gave him a show that he realized just how much he was missing before.
If anything, he doesn’t feel the need to use them on you, but loves watching you use them on yourself.
The small toy buzzes in your hand, the sound of it ringing loudly in the four walls you call a bedroom. Soft sighs accentuated by needy whines, baby pink sheets snaking around your soft thighs, the muffled sounds of your moans when you bite your lip—
“Fuckin’ Christ,” Logan says, mesmerized at the view, eyes glued to where the vibrator meets your swollen clit. He palms at the tent in his jeans, cock twitching when your back arches off the bed with a cry of his name.
He can fucking smell it—your arousal, your need—it makes him drunk, intoxicated off your pleasure. It makes his throat go dry, makes him want to crawl over you and keep you locked beneath him, greedily wringing out every last bit of it.
Your voice cuts through the fog of carnality, a gentle distraction from the beast that threatens to break loose with every passing second.
“Enjoying the view?”
He can only bring himself to nod.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He’s such a fucking tease it’s unreal, but he’s also very impatient. It leads to moments where you’ve been edged for so long that tears are brimming your eyes, and when you look at him with those puppy-dog eyes he can’t bring himself to hold off any longer, all previous plans discarded in favor of folding you in half and exposing your puffy cunt to his hungry gaze.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He gets louder and louder the longer you go on as his animal side overpowers him. He’s no stranger to noise but when he’s deep inside you he can’t help but resort to grunts and growls of your name, makes it known just how good you feel wrapped around his cock.
I personally like the idea that because of his mutation he follows mating rituals like real wolverines do, so if you’re into that he’s extra loud during mating season, to the point that he has to bury his face into your neck or else the whole building will hear him.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Likes it when you wear his clothes because they smell like you afterward. Encourages you to do so, and maybe hides your shirts during laundry day as an excuse (but he’ll never admit it.) When you’re not around he’ll even hold the fabric to his nose and take a deep inhale, imagining it was you.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
As mentioned before, an overall hairy man. Strong muscles with a healthy layer of fat, likes to laugh at you when you bury your face between his tits because they’re nice and soft.
When it comes to his dick he leaves nothing to be desired—it’s heavy, like real heavy. Nice and girthy with a fat tip that makes your breath catch in your chest every time he glides it in, the slap of his balls against your ass soon following suit. A nice pretty pink with a couple of veins running throughout.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Always when he’s around you, but trained enough to know there’s a time and place. If he had his way you’d never leave his house, but that’s also his protective nature talking.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Likes watch you fall asleep first to make sure you’re safe and sound—a bit paranoid and overprotective in that sense, but he can’t really help it. You’re the best thing that’s happened to him, so it calms him down to know that you’re not going anywhere. Once he’s sure you’re alright he’ll go to sleep, preferably with you on his chest.
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cassidyandonlycassidy · 2 months
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breaking point
tyler owens (twisters) x reader
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words: 1.6k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, female receiving oral, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mentions of past hookups, love declarations (bc i have to make all my fics at least a little fluffy)
the legendary tornado wrangler won't get on his knees for just anybody. it's a position of vulnerability, especially as his head tips forward, exposing his throat.
but you're not a predator in this moment, not with your thighs spread apart and he's smiling up at you with that shit eating grin you know all to well.
“whatever, you win.” you sigh. “just eat me out.”
“that wasn't what the bet was.” tyler says with a chuckle. “whoever breaks first doesn't get to cum.”
it was a dumb and pointless bet, but one that was needed to remind both of you that you didn't in fact completely lack control and could handle being around each other without finding somewhere to hole up and fuck, leaving rest of the crew waiting for you to finish up.
“come on, ty.” you pout, putting on your best pleading face. “i know you wanna taste me too.”
“you got me there.” you watch as tylers pink tongue darts out to lick his lips. “of course i could always eat you out without letting you cum.”
“we somehow managed three whole days of teasing each other without getting an orgasm. you're really gonna deny me of that?” you pout.
“we'll see.” tyler hums, his eyes dropping to your pussy, spread open and put on display as you're sat perched on the edge of the bed.
you're about to open your mouth to give another snarky response, or beg and plead if you have to, whatever you need to get tylers mouth on you when he suddenly surges forward, hands pressing your thighs even further apart.
his tongue swipes through your folds, over and over in quick succession, tasting every inch of you that he can while dutifully ignoring your clit, not giving you that pleasure just yet. you hope that's his only punishment for giving in.
“god, ty.” you moan, head tipping back as one of your hands comes to the back of his head, pushing his face even further against your pussy.
“so fucking delicious.” tyler moans, his words vibrating against your wet skin.
tyler can only tease for so long, soon his mouth moves to find your clit, circling around the sensitive bud before sucking it between his lips as you shout out.
he gives you no time to adjust to the sudden pressure, knowing you've been without it for longer than he'd like, but he's still not ready to just let you get away with losing your bet.
“god, baby.” you let yourself fall backwards onto the bed, giving up looking tyler in the eye as you continuously moan so loud you wouldn't be surprised if the people in the motel room next to you came knocking on your door to complain.
tyler grabs your thighs, keeping them pulled apart as he eats you out, greedily slurping your juices, the wet sounds filling the room.
“keep going.” you plead, hips raising up and down, grinding yourself against his face.
tyler gives up holding your thighs open with both hands, moving his finger to your entrance, pressing against it as he wets his digit until he's able to push into you as you let out a gasp.
his fingertip is rough against your walls as he keeps his finger pushed inside, continuing to pay attention to your clit while you adjust.
“more, ty, please.” you whine, squeezing your pussy around his digit, knowing how much that usually entices him and gets him moving along, but not today, not when you have a punishment to receive.
tylers mouth softens, making you let out an excruciating high as your previously building high slows back down, breath coming hot and fast as he begins to pump his finger in and out of you, a slow steady motion that has your hips wiggling.
“stay still or you definitely won't come.” tyler commands, squeezing at your thigh, giving you a light warning.
“fine.” you huff, deciding to try and focus on the feeling of his finger pushing out of you. it's not hard or fast enough to really send you over the edge, until suddenly a second finger is pushed inside of you.
“tyler, i can't.” you beg, resorting to using his full name.
he completely ignores you, used to your whines and begs and pleads that he always eventually gives into. you'll just finish up helping out a town hit by a tornado only to try and convince him to ditch the motel room you rented for the night and just hit up the first place he can fuck you in.
neither of you really saw it as a problem until you accidentally traumatized boone when he went to grab something out of the truck only to find you two in the backseat, thankfully still mostly clothed.
your hips rise up, unable to control them but tyler knows exactly what it signifies, able to read your body as good as his own as his mouth rips away from you, knowing that his fingers inside of you isn't enough to make you cum without some sort of attention to your clit.
“stop! please keep going!” you scream out, not caring that your begging doesn't make sense as your pussy pulsates around his fingers, desperate for an orgasm.
“you'll get to cum tonight.” tyler says, watching you let out a breath of relief as you were starting to worry he would stick to the beg wouldn't let you at all. “but itll be with me inside of you. and im not done playing with you yet.”
you can't even argue as his mouth pecks at your clit, licking his lips every time he kisses your skin.
his fingers move in a fury, surely imagining it was his cock buried inside of you considering he's been without it for too long. you can hardly wait to feel him properly inside of you, having been relentlessly teased, knowing he tugged his jeans a bit lower on his hips often just to give you a view of the muscular lines leading underneath his belt.
“ty…” you sigh out, back arching off the bed, wondering briefly how many hotel rooms you've fucked in, if you've reached every county in oklahoma and arkansas. 
“yeah, i know. i need you too baby.” tyler gives your clit one last hearty suck before he stands. already shirtless from when he sensually stripped to successfully get you to break first.
you sit up quickly, hands pushing his out of the way to undo his belt buckle and push his jeans down along with his underwear all in one go.
his cock springs up, having been hard and pushing against his zipper since entering the hotel room with you, knowing he'd either break or get you to break.
“lay back.” tyler says, his eyes lowering and darkening seeing your hands so close to his cock.
you move up the bed but instead of laying on your back, you flip onto your stomach and spread your legs.
“oh, like that?” you can hear the amusement in tylers voice as the bed dips as he crawls on top of it, draping himself over your body.
you think he's going to give you a minute, maybe kiss your shoulder blades and rub his cock through your folds, but his head presses against your entrance, and his length is entering you so suddenly you can't help but scream out.
“shit.” tyler cusses, pushing the rest of the way into you. he wastes no time picking up speed, deciding he's teased you long enough.
“god, ty!” you squeal, hands gripping into the sheets as you keep your thighs spread despite the force being applied, his hips slamming forward without control, needing to wreck you, needing to take you and stake his claim on your body again.
“you're so fucking-” tyler lets out a growl, dropping his head as he puts more weight on you. “you're so fucking warm and wet, baby. can't wait to fill you up.”
you haven't used condoms in forever. you began hooking up with tyler and quickly got on birth control so he could cum inside you like you so desired. the first time having you raw, he didn't even last five minutes. 
“fuck me- fuck me harder.” you squeal. “come on, give it to me, ty.”
you can feel the switch in his body. when his powerful muscles stop holding back, slamming full force into you, knowing you can take it, the one girl he's been able to find that can handle anything he throws at.
“i love you.” tyler whispers so quietly your ears barely pick up his words.
you flip over quickly, his cock only away from you for a moment before hes fucking you again, now looking into your eyes.
“i love you too, ty.” you haven't said it before. maybe it's just in the heat of the moment, but you don't think you'll regret it later.
tyler kisses you deeply, glad you both share the feelings beyond just hooking up, knowing things will change but feeling nothing but excitement for what waking up tomorrow will look like as tyler thrusts into you.
his cock swells inside of you, the tell tale sign that hes going to cum. you quickly move a hand down your torso to rub your clit, and all it takes is tylers lips against yours and his cum releasing inside of you for you to suddenly cum as well.
you moan into each other's mouths, a mix of curses and each other's names as tyler fucks you through your highs, feeling your body shake underneath his as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and tug him into you, feeling your sensitive nipples rub against his chest.
“god, that was good.” you giggle, breathing deeply in time with tyler as he keeps his softening cock inside of you, not ready to separate yet when your bodies are so perfectly aligned.
“we are never going that long without making love again.” tyler says, pressing a kiss to your forehead, but it doesn't distract from the wording he chose as you smile up at him.
“never.” you vow.
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yanderestarangel · 11 months
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HEADKANONS MK1 | "REACTING TO THE VOLUME OF THEIR BULGE APPEARING IN YOUR BELLY" - 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 + 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐊
TW: size kink, afab anatomy, pet names, v!sex, hard smut, not reviewed.
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BI HAN, SHAO KHAN, SHANG TSUNG, KUNG LAO, KUAI LIANG, JOHNNY CAGE, BARAKA.
Fucking him on top of you was always too intense to be true, he was a big man compared to you - and he made a point of making this dynamic very clear, he loved power, how it made him feel so powerful and relentless in compared to your small body, he could easily break you and that was fucking exciting for him. You opened your legs for him like a needy slut for his cock, while he poured a series of delicious degradations in your direction, going with two fingers up your wet and needy hole, while his other thick hand came against your face, forcing you to watch his fingers aggressively work on you, saccharistically placing the blame on you for having such a tight pussy - he loved how tight you were, but he also loved seeing you blush with embarrassment.
"-Oh come on angel... Don't be shy..." He moaned, smiling roguishly, while placing his dick on top of your pussy, making a comparison to your entrance, his hard dick reached your navel easily. He made a quick movement, without any warning, making you jump and arch your sides in a loud moan that echoed through the walls, he placed his hands on your hips, running his thumbs over your skin, soon seeing the bulge that formed on your skin, he could see his own cock taking you, it was too much for him, a primitive moan, perhaps even animalistic, left his lips, as he accelerated with all his might, moaning with every movement he could see under your skin, knowing that he was filling you completely, he is totally arrogant about it, taking one of your hands and taking you to the place.
"-Feel it baby... This is the power I have over you, only I can fuck you like this, you hear? Only I can fill you like this." he moaned hoarsely, smiling as he sped up even more, he was going crazy with every movement seen outside of your womb, he loved it, he loved being so strong compared to you.
"-You're going to cum, right? After all, you love a huge cock inside your little pussy." He placed his hand on your waist again, marking with his thumb where his dick went, while he leaned in and whispered in your ear between screams of pleasure. "-I'm going to fill your fucking uterus with my semen, and breed in that beautiful pussy, right?"
LIU KANG ,RAIDEN , TOMAS VRBADA, KENSHI, ZEEFFERO, QUAN CHI, HAVIK, REIKO, SYZOTH.
Fucking him while you sit on his dick, with his body sitting on the messy bed - sex before bed, with all the passion and with the intention of killing the longing he felt for you during the day, he knew it was a: A big, strong man, his muscles overcame the clothes he wore - he loved holding you in his arms, suspending you around, while he fucked you in every corner of the house.
He would kiss you passionately, while your hands went behind the back of his head, while his eyes slowly opened, seeing his hard cock, close to your pussy, the comparison was huge, he was always afraid of breaking you, often he just he would let you rub yourself against his thigh or over his dick, without any penetration or even inserting just the tip of his shaft, but when you asked for more he would back away, even if you begged for more, he was a patient man.
But that patience ended a while ago, and he needed that. He moaned more, as he watched you slowly sit on his cock, warming him with your heat, the sound of your wetness, he grinds his teeth as he felt the paradise of your walls squeeze him, he would try to ask you if you were okay, but soon he would see the bulge in your belly, making him tense with desire and moan loudly as he threw his head back.
"-Fuck dear, look at this... Mmm- Ah I can't control myself Mmm-" he then made a quick movement with his hips, thrusting everything inside you, stretching you wide open, as he always wanted. His strong, veiny hands met your hips, squeezing the soft flesh, while his eyes focused on the length that was exposed under your belly, making him grunt and sputter, passing his fingers with each thrust of your cunt. on him, drooling the thick length inside you - he was addicted, the vision of filling you up completely, and seeing you feeling pleasure with him slamming the fat head of his dick repeatedly into your sweet spot, made the big guy cum without warning someone, filling you with cum, with hard thrusts and even bordering on pain with so much pleasure, like a thin line of desire.
"-Ah- fuck, I'm going to fill you up... C-cuming-" he screamed as he emptied his thick and viscous contents into you, the sensation was overwhelming, leaving you with even more volume in the uterus, even with him slowly leaving you.
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