#what gets under my skin is that they are just so MANY of them now

[mrsriddlenott]

~ BET ~

JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader(kinda implied kook)

Warnings: Smut, Dry Humping, Thigh Riding, Edging, lil bit of Daddy Kink, d/s Dynamics, Creampie, Papa Jay. Kinda Proofread.

Please point out any mistakes

{masterlist}

————

JJ hadn’t even considered how difficult NNN would be, when the idea came up between him, John B, and Pope he thought it would be the easiest 40 bucks he had ever made. He didn’t need to finish to have fun, he could make you come undone with two fingers, easy. However, he gravely underestimated how much you needed him to be inside you, no matter how many times he had you cumming on his fingers and tongue in a day, he would still have to hold back through all of your begging that night.

JJ hadn’t noticed how much he spoiled you until now, he would have you underneath him or between him and a wall every day, sometimes twice if he could. And you had gotten used to that treatment. “But what about me Jay?” You pouted, looking up to him with those big, sad eyes when you came to the Chateau that night, and he knew he messed up. There was no way he was gonna make it because he didn’t realize he had you addicted to his cock until you were already fiending for it. All on account of his stupid bet.

And it just got harder from there.

Your lips grazed against the back of his neck, your hands feeling the tense muscles in his lower back as they danced across his skin, “Please Jay, I can’t wait, I want you now,” JJ held back a groan, his eyes fluttering shut when your hands made there way around to his front, hidden under his shirt where your fingers traced down his happy trail, testing him and pushing him further. He felt himself twitch in his cargo shorts, hardening almost immediately as your scent surrounded him, the feeling of your soft fingers almost sending him over the edge.

“It’s only day one Gorgeous, don’t test me.” He stated, his hands stopping yours when your fingers began playing with the button on his shorts as if they had a mind of their own. You groan behind him, retracting your arms and the warmth that came with them from around him, crossing them over your chest teasingly.

“You know I won’t tell them if you crack Jay, they would never know.” He sighed, head falling back before turning to watch you walk away from him, the sassy little swing in your hips almost making him jump at the offer. Almost.

But, his rejection sure as hell didn’t stop you from trying, if anything it egged you on further.

————

“What if I just sit on it Jay, I’ll warm you and when you’re about to cum I’ll get off Baby, I promise.” JJ chuckled at the desperate tone in your voice from below you, his head leant against the back of the couch displaying his Adam’s apple that bounced up and down every time your hips moved against him again. “Please Jay, I wanna feel you.”

“Nuh uh Princess, I know you can’t control yourself,” He laughed through a groan, the desperation of his voice making you speed up, proving him right. The friction building between you two becoming too much for him, your hips speeding up even more to chase the high he can’t have. He watches your chest rise and fall quicker as you drop your head into his shoulder, whining in his ear the closer you get to your release. You can feel him twitching against your clothed cunt every time you clench against nothing.

“Can you feel how wet I am for you through my underwear Jay?” His teeth dig into his bottom lip so hard he tastes blood, he’s testing himself now seeing how close he can get to the edge before he stops himself. Part of him just wants to let it happened, but he can’t lose in the first week, he would never hear the end of it, “Fuck Baby I am so sorry.” He groaned into your neck, tugging you up by your hips, moving to the side and aggressively pushing you down to reconnect with his thigh.

His large hands keep your rhythm when you falter, pushing you and tugging you against his thigh, pulling whines from your throat and making you twitch in his lap. Your fingers tangle into his hair, tugging on it uncontrollably while the band in your abdomen tightens. Your slick coats his leg forcing him to bite into your shoulder to control himself, whining into your flesh every time your knee brushes his tip, edging himself even further. You stutter and gasp, twitching against his thigh and soaking his shorts, his hands slow with your hips speed. Your watery eyes looked to him and his dick strained against his zipper further.

“You’re taking this so seriously, if I wasn’t so pissed at you I’d actually be kind of proud,” Your voice was breathy and came out strained, your glossy eyes held onto his, the little pout you had making him twitch and groan.

“I’m pissed at myself too,” He sighed, letting his head fall back into the crook of your neck, “I’ll tell ya’ what, if JB breaks soon, I’ll let Pope win and then you can ride me all you want Mama.”

“Really?! For me?” You squeak, so excited you would be embarrassed if you weren’t with JJ, “Fuck you’re amazing you know that?” You squealed, wrapping your arms around his neck, letting your fingers tangle into his hair again. Your soaked panties rubbing against his still hard cock, mixed with the sting your nails left at the base of skull forcing a whimper from his throat, and you know right then there is no way he is lasting the whole month.

————

“Cleo just texted me and Sarah, she broke Pope,” You giggled, typing away on your phone, his blue eyes watching you more intently than usual, just as they had been for the last ten days, “I kinda thought he would beat you both honestly.” You stated, tossing your phone beside you on the bed he made his before crawling over his thighs, his semi-hard cock already pressing against your entrance when you settle. He was so used to fucking you every night before you both slept in each other’s arms, that his body seemed to be prepared for it. Every time he looked at you recently he felt like he was about to bust, he was never doing this again. He decided he wouldn’t even be taking a trip without you ever again.

“Do you wanna fuck me now Jay?” Your breath fans across his ear and JJ bangs his head against the bed frame with a groan, your lips trail down the warm, salty skin on his neck stopping at the spot he loved the most and licking a stripe back up to his ear. You were desperate he could tell, and he absolutely loved it, and hated not being able to take care of it.

“Baby, you know I said if JB breaks….” He sighs into your skin, “Now I gotta win Princess, especially now that I know you thought I would lose.”

“Nooo, Jay, you can not imagine how horny I have been without you inside me,” you whined against the shell of his ear, exaggerating your neediness only a bit to try and get him to crack, “I won’t tell, not even Sarah.”

“Oh but Baby, that’s not winnin’,” He tsked, grabbing your cheeks, tugging your pouting face away and forcing eye contact, “If you wait I’ll use the bet money on anything you want.”

“I jus’ want you Daddy please.” You gripped his shoulders, thinking you knew exactly what the nickname would get you. Your teeth bit into your bottom lip as you began to rock your hips slightly, wanting him to finally give you what you want.

“Oh so that’s what you’re gon’ do huh?” His head tilted, slipping into his more dominant personality on instinct, his jaw twitching, his large hand gripping your hair in a flash, tugging it back and exposing your neck to him, “You can’t play that card and win Princess you know I’m in charge here.” He whispered into the flesh of your neck before his lips began their assault, sending a shiver down your spine and heating your abdomen even more than it had been.

“Do you want me to make it even worse for you Gorgeous,” he teased, “You can join me in this bet if that’s what you really want? I’ll bring you right up to the edge,” he whispered, his free hand slowly falling into your shorts to tease the hem of your underwear, “And then pull you right back with me.” He finished with a chuckle, snapping his hand out of your shorts, leaving you whining and wiggling against him.

“That’s no fair, you always make me cum, even when you’re mad.” You lean away from him and he lets you, resting you on his thighs before crossing your arms across your chest in the teasing way you know he likes. Shoving your breasts together right in his face, playing up the bratty attitude to get what you want.

“I make you cum when you’re good, and since you chose to pull out the Daddy card when you know damn well I can’t slip out of control until I finish,” He sighed between his words, eyes bouncing between your eyes and cleavage, controlling himself before he just fucks you right now, “Now you need to deal with his consequences.”

Your smile grows on your face, giggling at his words before you speak, “Okay, okay, I did do it on purpose but only because I need you so much.”

“Ah ah ah,” The teasing tone of his voice knocks your smile right off your face and you know you messed up, “I am dead serious, you’re stuck now Sweetness, you fucked up and now Papa Jay is gonna get what he wants. If you don’t act right I am gonna watch you beg for release every singe time I wanna fuckin’ cum until I can, do you understand me?”

Your eyebrows squeeze together, watching his face for a sign of hesitation, but the dominance stays. You whine as you wiggle your way off his legs to lat beside him, scowling at him before turning your back to him and laying down for bed. “If you change your mind in the middle of the night don’t hesitate to….wake me up, but only if you wanna fuck me awake.” You tease, wiggling your hips to poke out your pantie clad ass cheeks his direction.

“You’re gonna wish you hadn’t said that in the morning Gorgeous,” He laughed, slotting himself behind you in the dark, his arm pulling you into him and moaning in your ear at the feeling of your ass against his tightening boxers. You wiggled against him, pushing into him as he pushes back, his large hand splayed out on your lower abdomen tugging you impossibly closer. In one quick motion his leg locks against yours and his arms tighten around you, halting your movements as he speaks into your ear.

“Goodnight Baby, I love you so fucking much,” He growls into your ear, halting for a second to nip at your flesh before continuing, “and when I win this bet I am gonna give you the best dick of your life I promise you.” You whine again, desperately trying to run your thighs together for some type of friction.

“I love you too Jay, but I still want it now.” You huff, stopping your feeble attempts at movement at his soft, sleepy laugh behind you.

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” He says with a yawn before you’re both slipping into a restless, sweaty sleep tangled together.

————

Your phone lights up beside you on your bedside table, prompting you to grab it and read Sarah’s message in the group chat made for your fellow victims of NNN. “Fuck yes.” You whispered under your breath as you typed out your response, letting them both know your man was the winner. The smile grew bigger on your face when your eyes met JJ’s as he entered your bedroom, his shirt was discarded, allowing your eyes to trace the drops of water left behind after he brushed his teeth as they make a pathway through his chiseled abs.

"See somethin' ya like?" He asks with a teasing smirk that widens into a grin when you toss your phone aside for him, sticking your arms out silently begging him to join you on the bed, wanting to finally feel his skin against yours again. He stalks towards your bed, eyes on you intently as you wiggle in excitement at his proximity,

"Who were you texting?" He asks, his voice deep and demanding, as though he would throw the bet away if you answered wrong.

You smile even wider at his question, "Sarah and Cleo." You state matter of factly, crawling towards JJ where he stands at the foot of the bed. His eyes follow your movements closely, taking notice of the fact that you had already shed your pants for bed. Your hips rocked teasingly the closer you got to him, your cleavage free of if it's usually confines was visible entirely from his angle above you. You stood on your knees proudly when you finally reacher him, drifting your hand across his chest, letting it slowly fall lower while he groans at the contact.

"If you stop right now I promise I will fuck you tomorrow whether John B breaks or not." He growls, dropping his head as though he was ashamed, gripping your hand to stop it's decent. He knew if he let it fall any further he would lose control. You only giggled in response, leaning your head up to reach his ear, leaving a trail of kisses and bites behind as you did so.

"You know JB already broke right?" You whisper even though you knew he didn't, giggling when JJ’s head shoots back into place immediately. His ears excitedly perked up at your words like a golden retriever, eyebrows furrowed as if to ask if you were lying to him.

"Really?" His voice comes out forced, loosening his grip on your hand and letting it continue it's pursuit past the hem of his boxers. Sighing at the contact of your cold fingers against the steaming temperature of his skin when he lets you wrap your fingers around his base.

"Yup, Sarah just texted me and Cleo, she got him, you won Baby," Your sultry voice in his ear sends tingles all over his body, "Do you want your prize Daddy?"

“Oh, fuck yes I do.” JJ was on you in seconds, shoving you hard down against your soft bed, maneuvering your body around so he could slot himself between your thighs where he belongs. His hand fell between your bodies, carelessly tugging the hem of his boxers down just enough to let himself spring free, not caring to grab a condom in his haste. He quickly uses two fingers to tug your underwear aside before sinking into fully in one thrust, a broken, strangled sigh escaping his lips as he immediately sets a slow pace. His gorgeous blue eyes flutter shut above you causing a wide, triumphant smile to to grow across your face.

“Yeah I am not gon’ last long, fuck.” He whines, dropping his head to groan against the flesh of your neck. Your hands find hold on his shoulders as you dig your nails into his back, marking him and holding on to your release as it builds for the first time in days. His lips latch onto your skin forcing you to moan his name, his pace picks up while he pushes himself up on one hand beside your head wanting to watch your face when you come undone for him. His free hand runs it’s way down your side to grip your hip and hold you steady while he thrusts into you. You can feel him against you as you clench around him, earning a strangled mix between a moan and a groan from JJ’s throat, his thrusts stuttering slightly before he regains his composure. You can feel how close he is, his tip hitting just the right spot every time but becoming frantic while his mumbled words become slightly incoherent.

“If you let me cum inside I’ll buy you Plan B.” JJ huffed out above you, his eyebrows crinkling in concentration, trying to hold himself back, his blue eyes getting lost in yours again. He didn’t want to pull out, he had edged himself too much and he didn’t want to risk doing it again. His eyes fell to where you connected, watching the way his dick thrusted in and out of you making a mess on the sheets below. You sucked him in so perfectly that he wanted to stay inside forever.

“No shit, I know you will.” Your fingers melt into his hair, tugging his eyes back up to yours while you speak, “You can cum in me whenever you want Jay.” Your moan mingles with your words, accentuated by his final, hardest thrust before he stutters and twitches inside of you, collapsing on top pf you while his warm cum fills you and leaks past him onto the bed.

Your nails tickle against his back, your other hand playing with his hair, content while you stay connected as your breathing comes back to normal. JJ’s face rests in your neck, his breath fanning your skin as he wraps his arms around you fully. “I may have only lasted 12 days Mama, but I won us 40 bucks.”

“Okayyy but 12 days is still impressive for us,” You respond with a chuckle, tugging his hair to force eye contact with you, “It could have been day one Jay ya’ know.” He groans, his eyes fluttering shut again as his hands begin to run their way up his shirt you so often wear to bed, pinching at your hardening nipples and watching your eyebrows furrow in response.

“Round two?” JJ asks, biting at his lip and staring up at you with desperate eyes. You can feel his cock beginning to harden inside of you, your walls tightening around him at the feeling.

“Well you did say I could ride you Daddy.” Your voice comes out in a beg and you watch JJ’s face as it changes into a dominant scowl despite your growing smile. His jaw ticks and his tongue pushes his cheek out slightly at your words. JJ shoves himself off of you leaving you feeling empty while he settles on his knees. His dick bounces proudly in front of him as he tugs your panties down your legs before ridding himself of his own. You waste no time in removing your shirt and watching his mouth water at the sight of your bare chest as you tug yourself impatiently onto his lap.

You sink onto him, filling yourself up again with a sigh as his cock hits every spot perfectly. You bounce on him, setting a steady pace that your thighs can handle. JJ however, knows how much of a pillow princess you are, preemptively dragging his hands down your sides and to your hips, squeezing them lightly to let you know he can take over whenever you want. Your lips crash into JJ’s in a messy kiss, your tongues battle as your breath mixes. Moaning in each other’s mouths while your hands find perch on his shoulders.

JJ’s lips fall to your jaw, groaning into his kisses, nipping at your neck every time you speed up or slow down. You whine in his ear, your fingers finding his hair and tugging at it as you slow, telling him to take control of you completely. JJ’s wicked smirk widens, his hands tightening on your hips, his lips falling to suck your nipple into his mouth and swirl his tongue against it. His finger nails dig into your flesh as he starts to bounce you against his thighs, making you whine and grind into him further. “Faster Jay please.”

“You like that Princess?” JJ teases, his hands on your hips guiding you up and down his cock at a faster pace, “Do you like ridin’ Papa Jay Sweetheart?” He coos, tilting his head to watch you bounce on him, matching the pace he set as he thrusts up into you.

————

I think JJ is definitely the typa guy who talks ab himself in the 3rd person during sex😂

Idk how yall feel about Papa Jay but😮‍💨😮‍💨

[asomaton]

“Wake”

I live alone. There should be no voices here. A dim person with long black hair dressed in gray nondescript clothing is standing by my bed. It raises a hand and says

“The pantheon is expanding. You have been measured and found fit. Comfort your flock Listen to the pleas from the new.”

“Who? What? I’ve got nothing here. What do you want?” I scramble for my glasses but when I turn around the person is gone. Squinting in the dim light I try to see where they went. Bolting from the bed I turn on the lights and scan the apartment. Nothing. My heart is hammering in my chest. Not a trace. Walking round the bed I step into something. Sand. Two footprints like small crescent moons on the floor. After going through everything in the apartment and finding nothing, all doors locked, no broken windows, I grab my phone and take a picture of the sand. Are they really footprints? Was it all a dream and I imagined the sand as footprints? A very vivid dream. These things happen right? I mean it happened to me. I still grab an old heavy shoehorn made of brass and tries to sleep. If they come back I sure will shoehorn them good. Sleep do not come that night.

Two weeks after the “visit” the tinnitus starts. It’s not like in the descriptions, more like a susurrant mumbling. I blame it on stress and the fact that I’ve been having trouble sleeping. Nothing too bad. This is the price for my younger years with warehouse parties and concerts I guess. The tinnitus gets worse though and the noise canceling headphones I get from office only helps with sound from outside the head. Sometimes it shrieks and wails. Damn annoying really. Perhaps I should seek help?

The turning point comes when a colleague who been sick for a long while comes to visit work. Not a close friend. Just some guy with a booming voice who used to claim he had a “zest for life”. Why was he working here then? He’s not booming now. He look pale, almost gray and the skin hangs from his cheeks.

“It’s an experimental treatment.” he says with a hollow voice. “They couldn’t find a donor so I’ve got a lab-grown liver.” He gives a coughing and rattling laugh. “Fancy that huh? I’m like a pioneer.” He looks seriously again. Stricken. “Problem is it doesn’t really want to stick, yeah? Not sure if I get another chance. Probably won’t come back. Just wanted to see you guys one last time.” He smiles twitchy and I hear it. The din in my ears rises up to a choir of a million voices, clear, shivering and full of fright. Something alive, squabbling and scrambling to find something they can relate to. A safe haven. Anything. And something responds in me. A take a step forward and gently place three fingers on the shirt covering my colleagues stomach and says steady and reassuring

“This is your home now. Find peace. “

And my colleague who I’m not really friends with and whose stomach I’ve just touched in a weird way look at me. Confused, but strangely serene. He just calmly turn around and goes back to the elevator. Before he leaves he turns his head to me and waves. I wave back and smile. He’s going to be alright. His liver is going to be alright. I’ve reassured the new life in his abdomen. The lab grown engineered life forms to which I’m set to guide and protect in its many myriad forms.

My first thought after the insight, strangely, is that I always wanted pets, and now I suddenly have billions, manufactured under microscopes all over the world.

You wake up suddenly to find an androgynous being by your bed, congratulating you on your ascension to godhood and vanishing without explaining your domain or power set. Now you have to figure out what kind of god you are, and why you're a god to begin with

[lightseoul]

Hello! For your event can i get #11 ?

hello, sure! this took quite a while for me to get around to doing, but i hope the wait was worth it <3 thank you for playing!

(this is lightseoul’s 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i’ll whip something up!)

warnings. minors dni, please!

11. "IS THAT MY SHIRT?" (1.4k)

under other circumstances, today would’ve been filed under the non-descript mornings with which you start your unremarkable days.

the sun is barely peeking through the curtains, the temperature is not too cold but not too hot, and you’re buried in freshly washed bedding that smells divine.

and so it’s not really your fault for thinking for a modicum of a second that today was just like any other day.

if it weren’t for the muscled arm slung across your bare waist.

you’re yanked from your half-asleep stupor the second you see it, and you jolt in shock before you can stop yourself. the man beside you, thankfully, doesn’t stir awake.

with wide eyes, you chance a glance at the decidedly naked person next to you (if your sense of touch wasn’t betraying you), and the sight that greets you nearly makes you faint.

because what the fuck are you doing in bed—naked—with the bakugou katsuki?

suddenly the areas where your skin meets his are becoming way too hot, and you’re hit with the visceral urge to get away from the man.

and so as discreetly and quietly as you can, you lift the arm that’s wrapped around your midriff, but freeze when his grip tightens and he shifts every so minutely. sneaking a peek again, now at his face, you study the man with caution as his eyebrows furrow for a beat before they relax along with the rest of his features.

you don’t allow yourself to revel in how peaceful he looks, or dwell on the fact that you may have just fucked this man last night, choosing to try again and wrestle yourself out of his hold. to your relief, he doesn’t resist, even in slumber, and you’re able to slide out of the bed with minimal noise and motion, thanks to his firm, exquisite mattress.

you wonder how firm it proved to be last night…

you mentally slap yourself.

now is not the time to be horny.

it instantly dawns on you how naked you are, standing in this man’s bedroom fully bare, and so you scan the room for any sign of your undergarments and clothing. it doesn’t take you a while to spot your panties, and then your bra a few seconds later—both of which are notably plain and not at all sexy. you try to fight the cringe as you shimmy into them—obviously, you didn’t anticipate getting any action yesterday—eyes darting across the area in search of your shirt. they finally land on the black article that’s unceremoniously sprawled across near the foot of the bed, and you waste no time putting it on.

and as you find your trousers and squeeze yourself into them, you let your brain wander to what got you here in the first place.

you remember being strung along by your girlfriends into that exclusive bar that’s said to be frequented by many pro-heroes. you don’t know how your designated planner friend managed to get you guys entry, but you didn’t question it, choosing to just enjoy the atmosphere and drink good booze with good company.

in fact, you may have drunk too much good booze because your memory drifts in and out a few hours into settling into a booth in the bar. you recall one friend pointing to a group of three men who looked suspiciously like pro-heroes cellophane, red riot, and dynamight, as well as you laughing at how it couldn’t be.

you wince at the memory of said friend, who knows about the big, fat, embarrassing crush you have on the ash-blonde hero, dragging you to where they sat and introducing yourselves to the men.

at that point, you were tipsy and bordering on drunk, and dead convinced that they were just wannabes who wanted to look like their hero idols. but the guy with the crimson eyes that were notably boring into you looked too much like bakugou that you threw all caution to the wind and just went along with it, too curious about the person in front of you.

but now, as you stand smack dab in the middle of this pristine bedroom that can only belong to a very highly-paid, famously all-might-loving hero, you’re flooded by a wave of dizzying nausea.

dizzying nausea that doubles up when your eyes catch the ridiculously sculpted arms of the man who’s still lying on his stomach, seemingly fast asleep.

you can relive and fact-check your fantasies later, when you’re alone and in the safety of your much more modest apartment unit, but not now.

and so with a slightly heavy heart, you turn around and silently twist the knob, ready to tiptoe the hell out of his room with your purse in tow.

but all hopes of making a quiet exit get thrown out of his bougie-ass windows when the door fucking creaks so loud, that you don’t have to look behind you to know that the man just shot awake.

you stand there, frozen with your back turned against him, for what feels like forever, before ultimately deciding that you can’t just walk out the door now like nothing happened lest you come off as a fucking lunatic.

and so with a deep inhale, you steel yourself for the incoming shitshow, and turn.

you try not to stare at his crazy, stupid, built torso or his beautiful face that’s looking all too stunned as you awkwardly gesture to the door.

“you ought to lubricate this door of yours,” you quip, capping it with a laugh, although it comes out stilted.

and when he doesn’t say anything, “…sorry i woke you up.”

that must’ve been enough to sober him up, because he finally speaks up. “shit—no, i—”

he cuts himself off as he scrambles to get up, and you turn around just in time to not see his dick dangle as he searched for his boxers. you hear rustling and things being turned upside down as you wait for him to get dressed.

“just a sec,” he calls out, before: “have you seen my—is that my shirt?”

before you can think better against it, you whip around to look at where he’s gesturing, only to be met with him, now in his boxer shorts, staring straight at you.

“wha—?”

you look down to where his gaze is fixed, and sure enough, the shirt you’re wearing is decisively not yours.

“fuck—” you start, flaming in embarrassment, “i’m sorry, i thought it was mine. i—let me just—” you trail off just as your eyes land on another black shirt near your feet, and you’re about to scoop it up and turn and hurriedly strip off his shirt when he speaks up.

“no, it’s okay.” you freeze, bent over and hand just barely having grasped the shirt off the floor. and when he doesn’t say anything, you slowly straighten up, fighting to maintain eye contact.

he’s scowling now.

“you don’t have to scurry like a fucking rat, dumbass,” he spits, although there’s not much bite to it. he’s looking a tad bit embarrassed, too. hesitating for a second, he diverts his gaze, before: “can’t i at least cook you breakfast?”

you pick up your jaw that just dropped to the floor as fast as you can. “you—you mean you don’t want me to leave just yet?”

at that, he scoffs. “what do you take me for, a fuckboy?”

he says it so incredulously you almost snort. instead, you cock your head a bit to the right, not entirely able to deny your impressions of him.

“seriously?” he splutters for a beat, before sighing in resignation. shaking his head, he finally shifts to meet your eyes and regard you, the switch in the air to that of palpable seriousness so potent.

“i don’t normally do this,” he states, gaze remaining fixed on yours, as if he’s trying to communicate the rest with just his eyes.

you don’t have to ask him what ‘this’ means.

and so you reply just as honestly. “me, neither.”

neither of you says anything for a brief moment, the revelations from both of you taking up the small space between.

“so,” bakugou breaks the silence eventually, “breakfast?”

[seungfl0wer]

*𝙇𝙚𝙩 𝙈𝙚 𝙈𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙄𝙩 𝙐𝙥 𝙏𝙤 𝙔𝙤𝙪*

Pairing: Fox!Hybrid Seungmin x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut (Tiny angst)

Warnings: Enemies -> Lovers, Mentions of blood, Seungmin beats up someone, Unprotected sex, Creampie, Slight hair pulling, Oral (F), Clawing back, Praise Kink if you squint. Sorry for any mistakes or missing warnings.

A/N: I’ve had this idea for awhile and it’s nice to finally get it out, there’s actual plot to this no way! lol.

Series Master List

-🐾

You hated that your friends were friends with him. He was a nuisance. Always annoying you always getting on your last nerve. He’d do anything to really push your buttons. You could chalk it up to him being a fox hybrid, however he goes out of his way to get under your skin.

“Why do we have to pick her up? Why’s she have to come?” Seungmin asked.

“Seungmin, would you shut up?” Jeongin said back rolling his eyes.

“I just don’t get why she has to come” he said sulking back into his seat.

“Because we’re friends? Can’t help you repel all of women kind” Jeongin said with a chuckle making Hyunjin laugh in the other seat.

“Whatever say virgin boy wonder” Seungmin scoffed back.

They came by to pick you up on their way back from the store. Today was Changbins birthday so they were throwing a huge party at their place. You really didn’t wanna go, not that you didn’t like parties but parties with hybrids were.. different. Always a fight, always people basically fucking. So- not to different just more teeth and claws.

You came out in sweats, holding a couple bags. You wanted to get stuff ready before you get all prettied up, plus hyunjin was always a great help with make up. When you got to the door Hyunjin got out to open it smiling at you “hey Hyune” you said with a smile back.

“Hey pretty lady, ready to get drunk tonight?” He said with a laugh.

“Oh totally, this week’s been rough gonna drink my cares away” you said slipping into the seat.

Seungmin was still sulking in the seat beside you, when you had gotten in you almost took him out with your bags. “Watch it” he said pushing them away making you laugh. He continued to sulk the way there as you all talked.

“Y/n, remember my rooms off limits, no hook ups in my bed” jeongin said with a laugh.

“Dude, shut up I’m just trying to get hammered and forget I’ll be around all the chaos” you said with a chuckle. “Anyways is that cute girl you like gonna be there? You reserving the bed for her?” You teased.

“He didn’t invite her” Hyunjin snickered.

“What? Why?” You said smacking him lightly.

“Because he’s a scardy cat” Hyunjin teased.

“Ha ha ha so funny” Jeongin rolled his eyes.

Hyunjin and you were both human, however Jeongin was a cat Hybrid and Changbin a bear hybrid. You don’t know how all the personalities mixed so well but it did. You’ve been friends with Jeongin and Hyunjin for a good many years now coming from the same town. Changbin joined the gang a few years ago. Seungmin being the newest to your group. Changbin always joked about how it was the misfit crew.

As you pulled in you grabbed your bags smacking Seungmin again with them. “What do you got in there? Rocks?” He hissed.

“If I knew you were coming it’d be a brick” you said with a scowl as you got out. You helped the others bring in the bags. They got so much booze and snacks it was unreal. “Who’s getting the cake?” Jeongin asked as they put the stuff down.

“Oh lix is bringing it, you should see what he made it looks awesome!” Hyunjin said with a smile.

You tried to grab the last case of beer from the car, but Seungmin had come beside you grabbing it first. “Wouldn’t want the princess to break a nail” he said before walking away with it. God did he infuriate you.

After getting everything set up Felix has arrived with the cake. He sculpted a big bear, even textured the fur, it looked so cool. Hyunjin and you had went back to his room to get ready. You slipped on a black dress, it hugged you so nicely. Showed off all the right assets. “Y/n you’re gonna get yourself mauled out there” he teased.

“I take it, it looks good?” You said sticking your tongue out.

“Definitely, dude it makes your ass look great” he said with a chuckle.

Hyunjin was always your hype man. He helped you with your make up and before you knew it people started to come. You could hear the music blaring and people chatting. “You nervous?” He asked.

“Always am at parties like this” you said finishing your eyeliner.

“We’ll be with yeah don’t worry” he said with a smile. “Although- I think you’re gonna have a lot of eyes on you. You look like a model” he said.

“Nah you’re just good at make up” you said getting up to check yourself in the mirror. You did look really good though, the shoes you were wearing made your legs look even better and he was definitely right about your ass.

When you both came out changbin immediately saw you smiling widely. “Y/n!” He said picking you up twirling you. “Dude you look hot” he said with a laugh.

“Thanks” you said laughing with him.

You made your way to where the others were sitting. Seungmins yellowish eyes met your figure, he choked on his drink when he saw you. He was awe struck. You waved at the others smiling, jeongin handing you your drink. You sat next to him and seungmin, the slight touch of your knee hitting him sent a shock straight up his back. God damn did you look gorgeous.

As time passed you started relaxing a bit, maybe it was the alcohol maybe it was just the mood. Seungmin couldn’t take his eyes off of you especially not when you got up with Hyunjin to dance. You weren’t far from the table. He watched as you moved, his eyes burning a hole into you. It was like you had him under a spell.

The night went on as you got a little more tipsy. Seungmins eyes never leaving your every movement. He was going crazy. He had enough, he got up going to the bathroom trying to get some clarity. While he was gone some hybrid came up behind you. Wrapping his arms around you.

“I can’t believe you’re all by yourself looking this good” the man said against your ear. It turned your stomach a bit. You were sobering up as the lights flashed.

“I’m not” you said.

“Well there’s no one with you right now, all alone. For someone to just snatch you up” he said gripping at your hips pulling you into him.

You didn’t know what to do honestly. You tried pushing him away but he just turned you around, making you face him. His eyes looked hungry. Like he had just pounced on his prey and was ready to devour it. “Don’t run pretty” he said before bringing his hand to the back of your head pulling you into a kiss. You tried pushing away but his grip on you was tight.

Changbin pulled the dude off of you with a single swoop he was detached. The other boys who were all doing their own thing not realizing what had been going on came over to help. “Can’t you take a hint? She doesn’t want you” Changbin growled towering over the man. He looked back at you and then back at Changbin. “Whatever dude” he said slinking his way back into the crowd. Hyunjin wrapped his arm around “y/n I’m sorry I thought Seungmin was over here” he said feeling bad for leaving you.

“It’s fine hyun-“ you said your breath shaking.

And almost in cue seungmin had returned from the bathroom. He was a bit confused what was going on “what’s up? Y/n get herself into trouble like always?” He joked.

Hyunjin glared at him turning back to you “I’d say you can come to my room but I uhm- have someone waiting” he said feeling a bit embarrassed.

“What happened?” Seungmin said again.

“Like you actually care” you snapped at him.

“Hey hey, everyone take a breather. Take y/n to the spare room?” Jeongin said.

You pulled yourself away from Hyunjin, you made your way to the room by yourself feeling irritated. However when you slunk into the bed you felt yourself crying. “God this is why I hate these parties” you said curling up in the bed.

The others informed Seungmin about what happened, his eyes widening at his comment he made earlier. However the guilt he felt about it was quickly replaced with anger. He found the dude at the other side of the room. He overheard him talking to another dude saying ‘yeah, she was a hottie, definitely gonna find where she went.’ He continued with ‘she a human, whether she wants it or not I’ll find her’

That was it. Seungmins eyes blew out, he slammed the dude against the wall. He wasted no time pounding on the guy. Claws ripping flesh, teeth biting at anything it could. Although seungmin was smaller than the guy he was agile. “You fucking mutt! I ever fucking catch you near her I’ll fucking end you!” He snarled.

The dude was a mess, face slashed, bite marks at his throat. Everything happened so fast, changbin rushing over throwing seungmin over his shoulder. “That’s enough!” He said. “You get the fuck out of here” he said looking back at the bloodied mess of a man.

Jeongin had came back to bring you some water and check on you. “You alright?” He said softly.

“Fine” you said not turning to look at him.

“Wanna hear something that’ll make you even better?” He said. When you didn’t respond he kept talking “Seungmin beat the shit out of the dude” he said with a chuckle

“What?” You said turning quickly.

“Yeah, dude beat the him good too.” He said getting up. “Drink some water alright?” He said before leaving.

Why would he do that? Why go out of his way to pick a fight with someone bigger? Especially when the relationship you had together was more of a hate filled one.

Seungmin came slinking his way back just a moments later. He didn’t say anything. He locked the door behind him shaking his head that you had it unlocked. He slunk his way beside you wrapping his arms around you. “What, the girl leave?” You said teasingly thinking it was hyunjin. When you turned meeting seungmin eyes you froze. He didn’t meet your eyes letting you turn back around before speaking. “You alright?” He asked.

“Fine” you said softly. “I uh- hear you beat the guy up” you said even softer.

“They can never keep their mouths shut can they?” He sighed. “Yeah well I did, no one should be putting their hands on you” he said.

You could feel the heat coming off of him, his body nestled so close to you. “Thank you” is all you could reply. He hummed in response pulling you to him. “Y/n” he said softly. His breath against your neck making you shutter.

“Hmm?” You hummed.

“You really look pretty” he said his words coming out like honey.

You didn��t know how to respond, your mind going a bit fuzzy. He leaned in more resting his head on your shoulder. His mind was going a mile a minute his foxxy ears twitching at every sound of your breath. “I’m sorry for leaving you alone” he said. “Let me make it up to you?” He said before kissing your neck softly. You let out a soft sigh feeling his soft lips against your skin. “H-how are you gonna do- do that?” You stuttered out.

“Well first” he said his hand wondering down to your thigh. “I’ll make you cum on my tongue” he said licking up your neck. “And then I’ll make you cum on my cock. Do you want that pretty?” He asked hand staying still on you.

As much as you wanted to say no how could you? You’d be lying if you didn’t think seungmin was attractive. That burnt orange hair of his so perfectly kept, those piercing matching eyes. He was handsome annoying but handsome. You nodded.

He gently brought your dress up, pulling your panties down enough to play with your folds. He left soft kisses to your neck as he works his fingers on you before pulling away. He turned you to your back before quickly moving down to your core. You watched with glazed eyes as he took your panties off throwing them somewhere. He kissed your thigh keeping his eyes on you. When his lips finally met your core your body shook. He was slow at first taking his time, sucking at your clit, licking up your folds.

When your taste was all over his tongue he couldn’t help himself. He quickly brought his fingers up to your core fucking them into you. His ears moved hearing the sweet sounds you were making. His cock rock hard in his pants. He groaned as you arched your back moving your hips against his tongue. His other hand kept your thigh to the side nails digging into it. He was devouring you. He needed to taste you, all of you, there was no wasting a single drop of your delicious nectar.

He felt your walls clenching around him making him chuckle a bit. “Cum for me pretty fuck- cum on my tongue”

Your hands gripped his hair tugging on it harshly as you came hard around his fingers. He’d be lying if you pulling his hair didn’t turn him on even more. The moans you let out- he needed you. Fuck did he ever need you. Before you could even come down from your high he was stripping himself of his close, he spit in his hand pumping his cock before pushing fully into you. The stretch wasn’t painful, it felt more heavenly than you could imagine.

You felt him so deep inside you, his tail wrapped around your leg as some sort of way to ground himself. But there was not grounding, not when you were sucking him in so well. Your walls so warm taking everything he had to give. He moved erratically. Eyes locked on yours as he pounded into you. “Seungmin!” You almost screamed hands flying to his back digging your nails into the soft flesh.

“Fuck- d- don’t say my name like that- your- your gonna make me cum to early” he almost whimpered but you couldn’t help it. He was fucking you so well, so fucking deep. His cock head kissed your cervix ever so nicely, it was almost like you were made for him.

“Can’t- can’t help it- feels to good” and oh god did it ever. However the way his cock twitched inside you at your praise made you go crazy. “S’good Minnie- fuck you feel so good!” You said nails digging hard into his back.

He was seeing stars, he was so close already. The little nickname making him whisper out. You were driving him wild, he couldn’t stop himself. His pace picked up, hip smacking against you roughly. “F- feel good? Gonna- gonna cum on my cock?” He slurred out. You moaned in response legs wrapping around his waist as if he was gonna leave. Your walls were clenching around him, he felt like he was gonna die.

“Minnie! I’m- fuck I’m so close!” You said pulling his body close to you. He brought his hand down to play with your clit before finally crashing those pillowy lips to yours. It was a hungry kiss, tongues tangling with each other. Devouring each other’s moans.

You pulled away slightly “Cumming! Fuck- Minnie!” You silently screamed body shaking as your second orgasm washed over you somehow more intense than the first one.

“W-where?” He stuttered out.

“In- fuck please inside!” You said legs clenching tightly around him.

With that he was gone. A few more harsh thrusts before he came deep inside you. Painting your walls a nice white. He rolled to your side, pulling you close making sure not to pull out. He couldn’t, he needed to stay buried deep in you. A few minutes had passed of catching breathes. “Just so you know you’re still annoying” you said trying to break the ice.

He chuckled “yeah? Good. How about I be your annoying boyfriend at least?” He said slyly. Your heart almost stopped.

“Wait- really?” You asked meeting his smiley eyes.

“If you want that is- I’ll make sure know one ever comes near you again.” He said.

“The guys are gonna have a field day with this” you said with a chuckle.

“Yeah well, whatever. So is that a yes?” He asked.

“Yes, Minnie. But you gotta take me on a date. And no murdering anyone” you teased.

“I can’t promise that but I’ll definitely plan something” he said eagerly his ears standing up in excitement.

And oh boy did the boys rag on him for a whole week straight only being shut up when he started talking about fucking you.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @jehhskz @babigriin @kkamismom12 @jeonginsleftcheek

[enidette]

SICK LIKE ME

warnings :: both are 18+, piv, my attempt at sorta hate sex even tho it feels ooc pls, i didn’t know how to end this..

carl grimes x fem!smith!reader; requested by @carlmipololo

it wasn’t supposed to go like this. carl’s plan was to break into the sanctuary, kill negan, and hopefully escape. and if he didn’t, he’d die a real savior, or he’d die trying.

those plans were squashed under the calculated steps of the girl before him now. you, negan’s precious daughter who’s learned nothing from this apocalypse except how to be spoiled. ever since negan took you in, you just learned how to demand and how to get your way. it made carl seethe.

no matter how many times he was told he got lucky, that you picked him. saved him from any possible punishment awaiting him for his careless acts. he remained sour, face etched into one of anger or disgust when you’re around.

just as negan had his wives, his daughter had — boy toys as you like to call — of your own. not many, as most didn’t appeal to you or couldn’t satisfy you long enough before they received the iron as punishment.

and just like negan’s wives, your toys were handled well. they got good meals, good treatment, and when you didn’t need them they could do mostly whatever they’d like. and when you’d need them, they never seemed to complain. after all, you’re easy on the eyes. and your toys are never forced.

more-so persuaded, until they give into you and give you what you need. it usually doesn’t take long as men can be animals, but carl is an exception. he’s doing the bare minimum to be your play thing just enough to keep his family alive. it’s what he tells himself at least.

but it is hard not to fall for you, you know how to reel a guy in. no surprise there. you’re pretty, you can handle yourself. and with your boys, you let go, be a little more vulnerable with them. and carl can see through the facade of negan’s daughter.

but regardless of any of that, even if you’re different, you’re connected to negan. directly. you’ve done things for negan. things that don’t sit right with carl. he can’t let things go beyond pure survival, he won’t let it happen.

but it only takes so long for a man to break, and for carl it was a month.

you saunter down the halls, dim lighting illuminating your skin that’s barely covered by a sheer nightgown. negan’s noticed how you’ve plucked your toys off one by one, narrowing the group down so you can focus on one certain long-haired boy the most.

too bad he ignores your advances, but that clearly hasn’t stopped you. as you’re making you’re way to his room now, knocking softly before letting yourself in without allowing the boy to even blink.

you knew he wouldn’t be asleep, it’s like he never is. every time you’ve visited him even in the latest hours of the night, he’s still wide awake. and avoiding your gaze entirely. but this night is different. it’s nothing drastic, just the tension. you approach his bed and sit at the end, looking at him as he continues to look at the old tv behind you.

“it’s not even on,” your smooth voice cuts the silence. you don’t expect a reply, and you don’t get one. “i could entertain you better..” your voice trails off, laced with suggestiveness as you lean forward a bit. you know how you’re holding yourself up has your breasts pressed together, and you know this angle gives him a straight shot to look right at them.

again, you expect nothing. but a fleeting dart of his eye catches your attention. your heart begins to race but with his gaze being gone just as fast as it came has you wondering if you’re being delusional.

but then he looks at you, making eye contact for too long, but you refuse to be the one to break it. not now.

he tilts his head, “is that all you want?” his voice nearly makes you shiver, you’ve wanted him for so long. anything you can get has your body feeling like it’s on fire.

you giggle and bend your head down a bit, looking up at him through your lashes. “is what all i want?” with a scoff he rolls his eye, looking away from you again. it has your shoulders slumping slightly, but you’re not nearly ready to give up.

“to be lusted after.” it’s not a question this time, but it leaves you wondering. wondering why you were so adamant about him over the others, why he stuck out. “is it what you want?”

you bite at your bottom lip, unknowing of what to say because you’re unsure of how to answer his question properly at all. “i want you, carl.” you watch as he remains in his spot, focus trained on the wall his bed is against.

then he’s nodding and his lips are on yours quicker than your brain can process. he guides you onto his lap and you sigh into his mouth, you can tell he’s not very experienced but you’re not exactly surprised either. the prospect of that being so had you chasing after him even more.

your hands go up to his hair, tugging at the strands a bit harsher than you intended. but you can’t help yourself, not when he’s finally in your grasp just how you wanted. he breaks the kiss faster than you’d like, but your complaints get caught in your throat when his lips attach to your neck.

what starts off as normal marks turn into him biting hard into your skin. whimpers leave your lips as he sucks particularly hard on the skin of your collarbone.

he lifts his head at the sound, looking at you with anger and something you can’t quite decipher. “this is what you wanted?” your lips part to speak but he takes this as another opportunity to kiss you, messier and teeth clashing.

he feels you starting to grind on his thigh, the sight of you so needy, someone needing him had his head swimming. you got him right in your trap and it made his blood boil. but he can’t help but watch in awe as you use him to get off, resorting to gripping your hips harshly.

he wanted to leave marks, and plenty, a form of payback for what you’ve done to him. he isn’t enjoying this, he’s enjoying the idea of it. he thinks you look pathetic, wasting so many attempts on getting in the pants of a boy who wants your father dead.

but then your hands are fiddling with his pants, and the thought of being inside you, so close to you has his breath stuttering. it’s not like he’s not doing everything you ask of him. going from stubborn to your perfect plaything like a switch has flipped in his head and he couldn’t deny it anymore.

he rids himself of his clothes, hands sliding beneath your gown to reveal your bare body underneath. it has him wondering if you came this prepared every time. the mental image of you presenting yourself perfectly for him every time has him springing into action.

you lay down in front of him, watching as he hovers above you, eyes raking over you beneath him. you notice his sudden obedience, how he’s waiting for you to instruct him on how to please you.

you take his cock into your hand, smirking when he sucks in a sharp breath at the contact. you guide him to your entrance but he doesn’t move. you whine, hands flying to his shoulders, trying to pull him closer. but he still doesn’t budge, basking in every second of your desperation.

“please,” you beg, voice shaky as your legs wrap around his waist. he pushes forward, inching into you until he’s bottomed out and you’re clinging to him. “move,” you whimper out, barely trusting your voice.

he breathes heavily into your ear, “you’re so desperate. this is what you’ve been after this whole time?” he’s trying to make sure it’s in your head that he hates this, he hates you. but the feeling of your walls around him, sucking him in and drawing him closer to you tells him otherwise.

he pants into your ear as his thrusts get messier. his hands are gripping your waist, and he wants to ask you a million things. if he’s making you feel good, but he’s not supposed to care. if he’s hurting you, but maybe that’s what he wants. a twisted little sense of payback that you seem to enjoy.

you hand goes down to your clit, but his eyes follow and he swats it away. he copies your movements, watching you squirm under him as you get closer to the edge. he watches you come undone around him, getting sloppier with his thrusts before his head dips into your neck and he stills.

he breathes heavily into your skin, he knows you both can’t go back to your twisted normal after this.

taglist :: @carlslvr @hiro--aoki @carlsangel @mozzeralla-stix @carlmipololo @carlgrimesgfofficial @livingdeadgirlflorette

[revelboo]

Hello, sorry if I'm being annoying. But I’d love to see something with IDW Ratchet or Tarn if you could write anything with them—especially Ratchet. I just don’t see enough good stories about him. I really enjoy your writing style and can’t get enough of it. Sorry for any mistakes; English isn’t my first language.

Sure, I’ve been meaning to do an IDW Ratchet. Tarn’s on my list, too, but he and Ratchet will likely be the last new characters for a while. I’m currently over 30 ongoing storylines at this point 😅

Feel Like Rain

IDW Ratchet x Reader

• Sometimes it’s all too much. Even with First Aid helping, there’s just not enough medics in the Ark to support so many Autobots. Wheeljack and Perceptor can help if push comes to shove, but even then once the fighting begins again it won’t be enough. He’s never enough. And when he can’t get his processor right, when it threatens to drown him, he goes driving in his alt mode. Feels the sun baking him, the sand and hot asphalt under his tires. No real destination in mind, just trying to calm the panic that’s always there, the worry about what might happen. Driving for hours sometimes in a widening spiral about the Ark. Never going too far in case he’s needed. As he turns, he almost misses the car down in a crevice, only part of the bumper still visible, emergency lights flashing. Not his problem, but he’s still slowing anyway. Because he’s still a medic and someone might be hurt.

• Transforming and sliding down next to the car, he lays a hand on the roof feeling the heat of the metal and knowing it’s been there a while. Leaning to look inside anyway, there’s a human slumped forward against the wheel, broken glass glittering in their hair. Unmoving. Too late, then. Spark constricting, he’s turning away, pushing off the car to make the metal groan, when their little fingers flex and you make a low, guttural noise of pain that freezes him.

• It takes time to carefully peel back the roof of the car, snap the seatbelt and pull the door off to remove you. Feeling how hot your skin is against his servos as he lifts your limp form. Your eyes never open but you mumble incoherently, broken fragments he can’t make sense of. That make him wonder just how long you’ve been here, trapped and waiting to die. Because there’s no leaving you now that he has you in his hands. Carefully transforming around you to carry back to the Ark.

• Wheeljack’s in Medbay when he returns, digging through his tools and looking up guiltily, vocal indicators flickering green before he notices the human. “Haven’t seen that one before. Looks rough,” Wheeljack murmurs, moving closer as Ratchet lays you on a berth, your tiny form looking even smaller in the bot sized space. He’s almost absurdly glad Wheeljack’s there. Even though he’s been trying to brush up on human medicine since there’s so many of them now in the Ark, he doesn’t know nearly enough. Doesn’t know how to help you, but Wheeljack has a human. He has to know something.

• Snatching a scanner to run over you, he frowns at the results. Wrist and arm broken, one leg fractured. Body temperature well outside of normal parameters, dehydrated. Blood pressure off from normal, too. And he doesn’t know enough to know which problem is a priority. Which will kill you if he doesn’t fix it first. “Get your human,” he says softly. Temperature? It’s a place to start, cooling you off. “Now, Wheeljack,” he adds without looking up when the other bot doesn’t immediately move. Using a servo to brush your hair from your face, he can see the glass glittering on your skin and in your hair. “You held on this long.”

[sharkgirldick]

A knight and a squire

Duty and loyalty are everything to a knight. I am sworn to no lord, no kingdom, only the people. Where the evil prey upon those who cannot defend themselves, I arrive with sword in hand. I am no legend, nor even a local hero. I would prefer if the lands never learn my name, no stories or songs written of my battles. I do what must be done, because it must be done.

Yet, still, I find myself with a squire. She is like I am, resolute in her desire to fulfil her duty. She is much like I was as well, unsure of her place in the world and just what justice and honor mean to her. She had come of age only the year before I came to her village to kill a beast that was plaguing their livestock. In the months since then, she had become a welcome companion on the lonely roads of the kingdom.

The night was cold, a perfect chill, our breath steaming away from us as we sparred. Her form had improved immensely in the last few weeks, though her footwork was still stiff. To punctuate that, I went in for a simple overhead swing, stepping slightly to the side to indicate what I planned to do. She brought her blade up to block, but stood in place. I weaved to the side, twisting my blade past her simple guard, baring the tip against her throat.

"Pay attention to more than just an enemy's blade. Watch where they move, and move with them." She looked at me for a moment, then I pulled my sword away from her. Cold steel no longer near her flushed skin, she nodded.

Later, our daily drills and sparring complete, we stat by the fire, a simply stew cooking over a pot.

"Sir?"

"We aren't strangers any longer, Grace. Just call me Valeria."

"M-Miss Valeria?" It would have to do. She was much too formal, even when we spoke in private like this.

"Yes?"

"Were you a knight of the Order?"

"No. I trained under a paladin for a time, but I was to be sworn to the realm when my training was complete."

"But you have told me you did not take an oath."

"In a way. On the day I was to be sworn, I instead made my own vow, and became an Errant. That has been my life for the past six years."

"So…" She hesitated, and I watched her from the corner of my eyes as I stirred the stew. "So you are allowed to take a spouse?"

I had to stifle a laugh. "Afraid you will never lay with someone, is that it?"

"No! I, just… I was curious if you had ever thought of marrying and starting a family."

"I have had my share of bed companions, especially on cold nights like we find ourselves in. I don't think I'll ever settle down anywhere, and a spouse… Maybe if they were also a knight and took to traveling with me. But many knights also dream of retirement." She lingered on that for a moment. "Allow me to respond in kind with my own question." She looked a bit startled, but nodded. "When you dream of someone in bed with you, do you think of a man or a woman? Or perhaps someone who is neither?"

Her cheeks, already red from the cold, turned even more crimson.

Looking away into the dark of the woods, she said "A woman."

"How many young ladies did you get the chance to romance before you left your village? I believe the innkeeper's girl seemed somewhat keen on you. At least, she was rather disappointed when you left with me."

She worked her mouth a bit, face still incredibly flushed, then, in a small voice. "No one. You are the only woman I have spent any time alone with." She looked up at me, and I turned my attention from the pot to her. In the moment that our eyes locked, I understood.

A little mischief crept into me, alongside a sly grin creeping onto my face. I moved the pot from the fire, satisfied with it. It wouldn't take too long to cool in this weather.

I moved closer to Grace, watching her intently now. "You are my student." I said, plainly. A nod from her. "Then… Would you like me to instruct you in love as well?"

"I…"

I pushed on before she could protest. "It wouldn't sit well with me if you didn't have the skills to woo a woman who catches your eye, even more so if you were completely in the dark once you could lay with her. In a way I've taken the opportunity for you to learn that on your own." I leaned in closer to her, the pale fog of our breath mingling together now.

"Sir, I wouldn't be-"

"Valeria."

"V-Valeria…" The little bit of confidence she had to properly argue withered away as she said my name. "Miss Valeria, I couldn't. You are… We are… I."

Slowly, gently, I cupped her face with my hand, and her words completely petered out. "Grace. The food will get too cold, soon. We only have a few moments. Would you like to kiss me?"

Her eyes went wide, her cheek as warm as the fire beside us against my hand. Taking a steadying breath, she nodded.

I leaned in, eyes closing, and I stole away my squire's first kiss. She was awkward, both from lack of experience and nerves, but she was warm, and I can't deny that I could feel my body react from almost a full year without this kind of intimacy.

I broke the kiss and leaned back, my hand sliding away from her face. She simply sat there, swaying, with her eyes closed. Unceremoniously, I stood and gathered our bowls and spoons, giving both of us a generous portion of our dinner, then set the pot aside to clean. I handed her our meal, then sat. We ate in a comfortable silence.

I promised her I would add romance and intimacy to her lessons, much to her embarrassment. I would have to cultivate her even more, my burden to my squire only growing.

Of course, all I could do was fulfil that obligation. After all, duty and loyalty are everything to a knight.

[serensama]

I think we’re getting low on onions again...

Ooooh- how did I think I’d get away with writing only one thing for my favourite First Talon?! Stupid. Amateur move, truly. So to satisfy my need, I’ve crafted 25 mini prompts for me to write alongside my other DA fic, picked at random whenever I feel the need. Which is apparently… now.

Please note that these prompts will range from G/PG to explicit.

Read on Ao3

Prompt 16 out of 25 - Scent

Normally he would have urged her to bathe before slipping into bed after a long trip, but Rook had been gone for weeks. Isabella had told them two weeks, at the maximum, but she had been gone for five. If she hadn’t already sent the raven to tell him that she was on her way home, he would have found her, thrown her over his shoulder and carried her the whole trip back to Treviso from Rivain. Damn the consequences with the Lords of Fortune.

Home didn’t feel right without her. It didn’t matter if it was back in the Lighthouse or in Villa Dellamorte or her little apartment filled with gold in Rivain, if she wasn’t there, it wasn’t home. It was just a building he kept coffee in (or many buildings in the Villa’s case).

She had dragged herself in at an ungodly hour, her gaunt face and dark circles under her eyes told him that the poor woman hadn’t slept or rested well in days, likely to get back to him as quickly as possible. Rook tore away at her armour and managed to find one of her cotton slips to wear before collapsing. “M’home,” she yawned as she snaked her arm under his to spoon him, letting herself surrender to sleep, with him quick to follow.

He woke up a few hours later and found her dead to the world, her simple cotton dress bunched around her waist. Lucanis smiled at the sight, quietly delighted that she was home and everything was right in the world. He pulled himself out of bed and made his way to the kitchen to begin his morning ritual.

The Crow walked back to their quarters and relished the warmth from his cup, the same one from the Lighthouse, the only thing apart from his tea set that he made sure to bring back. He had every plan to send word to Caterina, Teia and Viago that he would not be available for the rest of the day, no, the rest of the week. He was going to spend every second of that time showing Rook just how much he appreciated her coming back to him, safe and whole.

That was- of course- until he walked in on Spite, on all fours astride the sleeping woman’s frame, caging her between his limbs. Rook was asleep with her arms stretched above her head and legs sprawled out underneath him. His face was buried in the crook of her neck, his nose tracing the smooth expanse of skin across her collarbone and down her sternum.

Lucanis watched on in shock as the demon made his way back up and sniffed up her arms and into her hair, an odd expression on his face. He shuffled backwards taking long breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth. He was about to plunge his face directly in between her parted legs when Lucanis barked an unintelligible noise of panic, startling Spite.

“Mierda! Spite! You do not…what are you... just get away from Rook, would you?” he hissed, ushering the demon to his side like he would a naughty pet. Spite narrowed his eyes and ignored him, inhaling deeply down her legs and to her feet. Lucanis could only imagine Rook’s reaction if she were able to see Spite; she'd electrocute and burn them both to a crisp without a moment’s hesitation.

“Spite! Quickly now, Rook will not like that.”

“She smells funny,” Spite rasped back, his nose scrunching after taking another whiff of her. Lucanis almost threw his cup of coffee at him however he did not think Rook would take kindly to waking up from being scalded.

“Do not say that Spite,” he warned, walking closer to the bed, “you know she has been away for a long time and has not had time to bathe and smell the way you always know her. She is fine, do not let that be the first thing you say about her after she’s been away from home for so long.”

“But she does smell funny Lucanis,” the demon insisted, pounding his fists into the mattress, his will so strong he managed to jostle her without physically controlling Lucanis. “Smell her!”

“That is enough Spite!” he growled as quietly as he could, not wanting to wake his lover from a petty argument between him and his winged passenger. The demon bared his teeth in frustration and leapt upon him, his nails digging in like talons at the sides of his head.

“Not enough! Smell her! She smells different. Like not Rook-”

“Are you saying that she’s not Rook?”

“No. She is Rook. But not Rook. She smells like more. More Rook,” he grinned at him, excited to get his thoughts out, though they made no sense to the assassin.

“I do not understand-”

“Like more Rook, more Lucanis! More of you both!”

Lucanis followed the finger the demon pointed at his beloved, still asleep and snoring softly. He was gesturing directly to her stomach. Could it... no... no... maybe?

“Are you... are you saying she is?-”

“More!”

Lucanis pushed the demon’s face away with both hands, uncaring to Spite’s offended scoffs as he fell to the floor. He reverently made his way to her side of the bed, his large brown eyes taking in every curve and line of her. She looked the same as when she left, no Spite must have been mistaken. The idiot didn’t even know what coffee was, how could he know that of all things...

“Hmmm, morning love,” Rook murmured, still half asleep and stretching languidly.

“Good morning,” he whispered, not trusting his voice to falter as he recovered from Spite’s would-be revelation.

“I’m right. Rook smells, tell her! Tell her!” he chanted as he hopped around them excitedly, Lucanis’ gaze following him.

“How come I feel like I’m competing with Spite again?” she smiled, reaching for her favourite Crow.

“Never,” he crooned, carefully crawling up the bed to greet her with a soft peck on the lips.

“Lucanis!”

“Mierda! Stop it, Spite!”

“Wait- is he giving you trouble again after all this time?” she asked, concern furrowing her brow. Lucanis shook his head and stole another kiss from her. “As much as I am loving this, tell me what’s wrong Luca.”

“Nothing, he’s being stupid.”

“Not stupid. You’re stupid.”

“Oh no, that one hurt. You’ve gone too far Spite,” he replied, staring at the demon with an unimpressed glare.

“I’m missing out here,” Rook pouted at Lucanis. “It almost feels like I’m back at the Lighthouse when I’d pass some of you talking and then you’d all look at me like I had rudely interrupted you from talking about me behind my back. Then you’d all stare at me as if expecting for me to join in!”

“You’re not missing out on anything, Spite is just being-“

Spite pushed Lucanis into the background, who was taken by surprise, not expecting the demon to forcefully take over.

“Rook. You’re preg-prenga… pregi- baby!”

“What?!”

“I smell it on you. In you. Lucanis said you would be upset if I said you smelled.”

“Well… context is important. I guess,” she said sitting up. “Are you sure?”

Spite nodded excitedly, nuzzling his face into her stomach and taking another breath in.

“Also smells of… Spite.”

“Well, shit.”

[larluce]

Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU (SERIES 2)

FIRST PART (SERIES 1) >> PREVIOUS PART >> NEXT PART

In "Lancelot and Guinevere"

Merlin and Morgana in the Burial Vault.

Morgana: Scéawere, inbringe cume mec (her eyes glow and a mirror that is on the floor levitates and goes to her until it lands in her hand) I did it! (jumps excited)

Merlin: (happy and proud of her) And in your very first spell! You are a natural.

Morgana: Scéawere, folge min bebod (her eyes glows and the mirror levitates again. She giggles as she watches the mirror dancing around her) This is easier than I thought. (stops watching the mirror to look at Merlin) How is that-

Merlin: Don't lose concentration!

Too late. The mirror falls to the floor and breaks.

Morgana: (sighs, sad) I thought I got the handle of it.

Merlin: You have it! It takes most magic users years to achieve what you just achieved. And that's because they have to grow and strengthen their magic before they are able to control it at their will. Your magic, however, is already strong. Spells are just helping you to guide it and have it under your command. (looks the broken mirror on the floor) Betan Scéawere (his eyes glow and the mirror repairs itself, back to new) Once you master that, you'll be able to even do some spells non verbally (his eyes glow and the mirrow levitates to his hand) Like this.

Morgana: (smiles and looks at her hand or rather the magic emanating from it) Since I came to Camelot I've been told that magic was a dark art and could only be a force of evil (picks up the magic book Merlin gave her to study) But there are so many helpeful spells here that could bring so much good to the people of Camelot. The healing spells for example, how many lifes could they have saved! If Uther weren't so-

Merlin: I know. Once Arthur is King that will change.

Morgana: ...

Merlin: What is it?

Morgana: You said Arthur didn't react badly when you told him, right?

Merlin: Yeah, it surprised me a lot, to be honest. Not that I thought he would order my execution or anything, but he wasn't even a bit mad for lying to him about my magic. (thougthful) Sometimes I think... Maybe he is enchanted?

Morgana: Don't be ridiculous. He is just in love.

Merlin: (blushes, but thinks) But... Being in love didn't stop him from getting mad at Guinevere when she cheated on him. Not that lying about my magic can compare to that, but... sometimes he acts so different from the Arthur I remember...It makes me wonder if-

Morgana: Stop it.

Merlin: What?

Morgana: Doubting Arthur's love for you. You are not just hurting yourself with your doubts, you'll hurt Arthur if you keep doing that.

Merlin: You are right. I'm sorry. (pauses) Why are you asking about Arthur's reaction? Are you planning to tell him?

Morgana: Well, not now, but... maybe soon? At least, I'm considering it.

Merlin: (smiles reassuring) Take all the time you need.

Time skip. In Merlin's chambers.

Merlin: (enters, cautiously)

Arthur: (in the middle of the room) Where were you?

Merlin: (almost jumps out of his skin) Arthur! What are you doing in my room?

Arthur: I asked first. (aproaches Merlin, warning) If you are doing dangerous missions behind my back-

Merlin: I'm not! I promised you I would never do that again without consulting you, didn't I?

Arthur: You also promised me you'll never hide anything from me again, so... (crosses his arms) Where have you been disappearing to? Don't think I haven't noticed.

Merlin: (sighs) I've been... helping someone.

Arthur: Helping? Who?

Merlin: I can't tell you their name, but they are... like me.

Arthur: (realises) A warlock?

Merlin: (nods, happy Arthur remember the term) They have nobody else that can teach them how to control their gift, so I'm helping them.

Arthur: So you are basically their mentor?

Merlin: (shrugs) I guess?

Arthur: (sighs) Only you Merlin would start teaching sorcery in a kingdom were magic is illegal.

Merlin: (takes Arthur's hand in his) We are very careful, I promise.

Arthur: (soften his expression at the gesture) Do I know this person?

Merlin: (nods) I can't tell you who, but she-they are trustwordy. You have nothing to worry about.

Arthur: (smiles, realising it's Morgana) Alright. (pulls Merlin close) I'm still quite offended though.

Merlin: (confused) Why?

Arthur: You are showing your magic to this stranger while you have shown me barely anything.

Merlin: (surprised) You... want me to show you my magic?

Arthur: Well, I always see a bit of it when we kiss (Merlin shoves him and Arthur laughs), but, besides the butterfly you did when you told me your secret, you never do magic before me willingly.

Merlin: Well, magic is still illegal.

Arthur: You know what I mean.

Merlin: I lighted a candle.

Arthur: Because I ordered you to.

Merlin: (evades his eyes) I... didn't think you wanted me to. I mean, I know you don't hate it, but... I don't know... I guess I just didn't want to make you unnecessarily uncomfortable.

Arthur: Merlin, (lift Merlin's chin with one hand) when I said I loved all of you, I was serious. I love you, not despite your magic, but with your magic for it is part of you. I love your magic as much as I love you.

Merlin: (his eyes water) You... can't just say things like that. (thinking) You make it difficult not to believe you are actually enchanted.

Arthur: (smiles and holds his hands lovinly) Come on. Show me something.

Merlin: (looks at the fireplace and extends a hand) Upastige dracas (his eyes glow and three dragons of fire come from out of it and fly around the room)

They both have the same flashback. Arthur recently wounded by Mordred, lying on the grass, while Merlin made a little dragon of fire. Arthur wasn't able to appreaciate it then, too in shock to learn his best friend was a sorcerer and lied to him, hurting metaphorically at the betrayal and literally for the wound. Merlin fearing he'd lose Arthur forever, blaming himself for not getting there in time. That dragon was shy, it dissapeared as soon as it appeared. The dragons the Arthur watches right now are more defined and fly freely. And Merlin no longer awaited his reaction with fear, but expectantly, blushing like this was something intimate and it is.

Arthur: (with a loving smile) It's beautiful.

Time skip. Another day. Merlin and Morgana in the Burial Vault.

Morgana: Baern. (her eyes glow and a candle is lighted, but it soon goes out)

Merlin: It's okay. We should rest a bit-

Morgana: (Stubborn) No! I have it. Baern! (her eyes glow and the candle is lighted but the flame leaps too high)

Merlin: Færblæd wawe! (his eyes glow and blows the fire with an air current) Maybe is too soon to start with fire spells.

Morgana: You said it was the easier element to conjure!

Merlin: Yes, but it's also the most dangerous one. And conjuring fire and controlling fire are two different things. You had a bad experience with fire before, it's normal that your magic is hesitant to create it. You just need more time-

Morgana: (desperate) NO! I don't have time! I need to learn how to use it NOW!

Merlin: What do you mean? (opens his eyes in realisation) Morgana did you have another vision?

Morgana: ...

Merlin: What was it about?

Morgana: I was visiting my father's grave with Gwen like I always do every begining of spring and... we got captured by some men in the way.

Merlin: (thinking) That's when they tried to kidnap Morgana for ransom and took Gwen instead (says) Begining of spring...that's tomorrow! 😨 Are you planning on going?

Morgana: I thought about not going but... then I'll be fearing this will happen any other time I'm on a pilgrimage to my father's grave. Or any time I leave the castle. I can't live like that. I won't let the fear of my nightmares control me. (thinking) Not again.

Merlin: So you wanted to learn fire spells to defend yourself.

Morgana: And Gwen.

Merlin: (surprised) You are still going with Gwen? I thought you'll make her stay to keep her safe.

Morgana: I would, but she has always accompanied so if I tell her not to go, she'll know something is up. And if I tell her the reason-

Merlin: She'll insist in coming with you anyway and you can't deny her.

Morgana: (sighs) Yes.

Merlin: And you didn't tell Arthur either because he'll out right forbid you from going. (sighs) Alright, Lancelot and I will come with you to protect you.

Morgana: How? Uther would never let a couple of peasant men accompany us.

Merlin: Uther doesn't have to know we'll be there. We can disguise ourselves as knights to infiltrate in the scort, having our helmets on all the time so they don't recognise us.

Morgana: Oh... that's actually a great idea! 😃 (looks Merlin up and down) But... Are you sure you can pass as a knight?

Merlin: (frowns) What do you mean?

Time skip. Lancelot, Gwen, Morgana and Merlin in the armory.

Merlin: (dressing an armor that is quite large for him)

Gwen: Uhm...

Morgana: Yeah, I don't buy it.

Lancelot: (apologetically) It's true Merlin. You look too skinny to be a knight.

Merlin: (thinking) Is not my fault that I lost all my buff when I travelled back in time! 😠 (says) Can't you make me one of my size, Gwen?

Gwen: Not with so little time. And my father will wonder where all the material is dissapearing.(pauses and looks at Merlin, worried) Are you sure you want to go? If Morgana's nightmare comes true, you'll be in danger too. Maybe it'll be better if you stayed. Arthur will never forgive us if something happens to you.

Merlin: No! I have to be there!

Gwen: Why? I get why Lancelot has to come, he fights better than all the scort combined. But you? What could you do?

Morgana and Lancelot: (who know Merlin has powerful magic but can't tell) ...

Merlin: You need me there because... You need me there for...

Morgana and Lancelot: (sweat)

Merlin: For... For moral support!

Morgana and Lancelot: (sigh in relief)

Gwen: (chuckles) Whatever you say. (brings her index finger to her chin, thoughtful) Lets see, if we can't pass you as a knight maybe we can pass you as something else.

Morgana: Well as a lady I'm allowed to bring a scort of knights and all the maidservants I may ne... (trails off and turns to Merlin slowly, with a malicious grin on her face)

Gwen: (brings a hand to her mouth, gasping in excitment)

Lancelot: (just looks at Merlin in concentration, seriously trying to picture him in a dress)

Merlin: (open his eyes wide as he realises) No... NO! ABSOLUTELY NO!

Time skip. In Morgana's chambers.

Merlin: (sarcastic as Morgana puts make up on him) We can't make Merlin an armor, but sure, lets make him a dress. That's a lot easier.

Morgana: It actually is. And we didn't make one. Gwen just made a few alterations to one of my old one's. Don't move!

Gwen: (doing last adjusments in the wig on Merlin's head) There! Are you done, my lady?

Morgana: Wait... Done!

Merlin: Thank the gods! (stands up from the chair)

Lancelot: (knocks the door from outside)

Gwen: (opens the door)

Lancelot: Gwen, Arthur is asking for Mer-

Gwen: (pulls him inside, excited) Just in time! You have to see this!

Lancelot: Wait, this is serious. He's about to put the whole castle upside do- (cuts himself as he watches Merlin) Wow...

Merlin: (in a beautiful red dress, make up and a wig which hair covers his long ears) There is no way this will work. I must look ridiculous. Tell them, Lancelot.

Lancelot: ...

Merlin: Lancelot?

Lancelot: I think for the first time I understand Arthur.

Merlin: What? 😧

Lancelot: (chuckles) Don't ever tell him I said this. But you are actually very pretty, Merlin.

Morgana: I told you!

Gwen: (smacks Lancelot)

Lancelot: Ow!

Gwen: Stop flirting with my friend! 😠

Lancelot: I was not flirting! I was just complimenting her-HIM!

Merlin: (runs to look at a mirror and stares at his reflection, very surprised) I... I am...

Gwen: Beautiful?

Morgana: Stunning?

Lancelot: Femenine?

Merlin: Yes! How is that possible? I don't even have a breast!

Morgana: There are many girls that are flat chested. Is not that uncommon. And you compensate it a lot with your behind. 😏

Merlin: (turns to look at his behind in the mirror) How is that I pass more as a maid than as a knight? I feel flattered and insulted at the same time. (puts his hands on his waist and takes a deep breath) And how can you wear a corset everyday? I can hardly breath.

Morgana: You get used to it.

Gwen: Uhm... but he looks more like a lady than a maidservant. (to Morgana) Maybe we should have used one of my dresses instead?

Morgana: No, it's perfect. (smirks) Time to put it to test.

Time skip. At the training field. Arthur just finishing the training with his knights.

Morgana: (enters, pulling Merlin with her, whispering) Come on!

Merlin: (just lets himself be dragged around, his head down, red to his ears)

Morgana: (calls out) Your Highness!

All the knights: (turn and bow to her and Merlin)

Arthur: (turns) Morgana! Have you seen Merlin? He was suppossed to attend me hours ago. Someone else had to help me with my armor.

Morgana: I'm afraid not. But there's someone I'd like you to meet.

Merlin: (still with his head down, tries to hide behind Morgana, but she doesn't let him)

Morgana: This is an old friend of mine. Lady Merelyn of Essetir. She is a bit shy, but she came from very far away to meet you. I was hoping you could give her a tour around the castle.

Arthur: (kind of annoyed) Did my father put you up to this?

Morgana: (confused) What?

Arthur: I told him I'm not interested in-

Merlin: (finally has the courage to lift his head)

Arthur: (Arthur exe has stopped working)

Merlin: (nervous, in the lightest voice he can manage) It's a pleasure to meet you, your Highness.

Arthur: ...

Morgana: (having the time of her life) So... about that tour.

Arthur: (comes back to his senses, though he's blushing) Right. (to Merlin, smiling) It'll be my honor to show you around the castle, Lady Merelyn. (offers "Merelyn" his arm)

Morgana: (whispers to Merlin) Hold it.

Merlin: (whispers back) What?

Morgana: You have to hold it!

Merlin: Oh! (holds Arthur's arm quickly and very not delicately)

Arthur: (chivalrously leads Merlin out of the training field)

Knight x: (watching them in the distance) Poor girl. I have the feeling she'll dissapear.

Knight y: Has she been here before? She kind of looks familiar.

Knight z: No, I would remember a beauty like that.

Morgana: Hey! Is that the way to talk about a lady? Show some respect!

Knights: (hang their head) Yes, my lady. My apologies, my lady.

Time skip. Arthur and Merlin walking around the castle. People stare at them as they pass.

Arthur: And this is the banquet hall where we have feasts and parties, my lady.

Merlin: (just hums in response and thinks, confused and kind of hurt) He hasn't recognised me yet?

Arthur: (leads Merlin to a more apart place)

Merlin: (thinking) Wait, where is he taking me? What intentions does he have with Merelyn?! 😠

Arthur: (looks around to verify they are alone and suddenly burst out laughing) Oh, Gods! Of all the crazy things you've done, Merlin. You outdid yourself this time.

Merlin: (dumbfounded) You... know it's me?

Arthur: Like I wouldn't recognise that stray kitten face anywhere.

Merlin: Better a kitten face than a toad face. (shoves him) Why didn't you say anything before, you scared me!

Arthur: I couldn't! The knights were there and then the servants. I needed to make sure we were alone. And what do you mean I scared you? (pauses) Wait, what did you think I was doing?!

Merlin: You brought a lady to a hidden place! What was I supposed to think?

Arthur: (stares at him for a second and then laughs again) You were jealous of yourself and I'm the jealous obnoxious prat?

Merlin: I still stand by that!

Arthur: Why are you even dress like a girl anyway? Is this a new hobby of yours? 😏

Merlin: (blushes) No! Is nothing like that! It's part of a plan.

Arthur: (incredulous) A plan?

Merlin: To protect Morgana and Gwen.

Arthur: (his smile fades) What?

Merlin: Don't get mad at her, but Morgana had a dream where she and Gwen got captured by some bandits in her pilgrimage to her father's grave, so I suggested her to infiltrate Lancelot and me in her scort so Lancelot and I will be able to protect them if that were to happen. But apparently I don't make a believable knight so... I'm accompanying her as her maid.

Arthur: (thinking) That ambush! I forgot about it! (says) First, I agree on the knight part. Second, ARE YOU INSANE?! 😡 I'm not letting any of you go to that pilgrimage!

Merlin: And that's why Morgana didn't tell you. If the bandits don't capture them today they could capture them any other day and you can lock Morgana and Gwen up in the castle forever. But if I go with them I can defeat these bandits with my magic and the threat will be gone for good.

Arthur: There are many knights in that scort. They could see you!

Merlin: Which is why Lancelot is coming too. He can cover me. And even if someone were to spot me using my "gift", they'll think Lady Merelyn did it, not me.

Arthur: Fine. But I'm coming with you.

Merlin: You can't! You have duties to attend to here and if you cancel them your father will be furious. We are on thin ice with him, remember?

Arthur: (troubled, thinking) He's right but... this could also be a perfect opportunity to reduce numbers. 280, 280 left. It's still not enough. 280. Merlin could get worse! 280. I can't lose him again! 280. I can't-

Merlin: (holds his hand softly) We'll be fine. Trust me.

Arthur: (thinking, calming at Merlin's gesture) Patience. You have a plan. Be patient (sighs resigned, but then smirks) Well, I can't deny a lady, can I? (holds Merlin by the waist, pulling him close slowly) Especially such a pretty lady like this.

Merlin: (open his eyes wide, scandalised) Arthur Pendragon! Are you actually turned on by this?

Arthur: Let's just say I wouldn't mind you wearing dresses more often.

Merlin: (flustered, but then smiles and puts his hands on Arthur's chest seductively, moving his eyelashes at him) Oh, you flattered me so much, my lord. I don't know what to say. (turns his head away acting shy)

Arthur: (thinking) Thank godness this chainmail is long!

Leon: (enters) Your Highness? Lady Morgana is looking for... (spots "Merelyn" and Arthur)

Merlin: (pushes Arthur away from him inmediatly, making him fall to the floor, and gives his back at Leon so he doesn't recognise him)

Leon: ... her new maid.

Arthur: (stands up from the floor as royaly as he can) Sir Leon! Uhm, what is that brought you here again?

Leon: (hides his anger in apparently finding his Prince in an affair with another girl, putting on neutral face and voice) Lady Morgana is expecting Lady Merelyn in the main square to go to her pilgrimage.

Arthur: (thinking) She totally did this on purpose! (says) I understand. I'll scort Lady Merelyn there inmediatly.

Leon: (bows and leaves)

Arthur and Merlin: (look at each other in silence and then burst out laughing)

Time skip. In the main square. Morgana, Merlin and Gwen with capes, ready to go their pilgrimage.

Merlin: (looking at his horse, sad)

Morgana: (to Merlin) I'm sorry you couldn't bring Princess, but it would be too suspicious if someone that is not Merlin is able to ride her.

Merlin: It's alright. I wouldn't want her in danger.

Morgana: Knowing her, she'd fight back those bandits too.

Lancelot: (already disguised as a knight, helps Gwen get on her horse) It's not too late to change your mind, my love. I rather if you stayed.

Gwen: (gives him a comforting smile) I wouldn't be at peace here, knowing you and Morgana might be in danger.

Lancelot: Gwen-

Gwen: I have you and a hidden dagger. Everything will turn out alright.

Lancelot: (squeezes her hand lovinly before going to join the other knights)

Arthur: (helps Morgana get on her horse) I hope your trip isn't too upsetting. And be careful.

Morgana: (smiles) Thank you, Arthur. We'll be.

Knight x: (about to help Merlin get on his horse)

Arthur: (interrupts) Let me.

Knight x: Sire. (bows an joins the other knights)

Arthur: (helps Merlin on his horse) I hope your stay in the castle was of your liking, Lady Merelyn.

Merlin: (giggles) And I hope my presence was just as likable, my lord.

Arthur: (kisses his hand) Have a good trip, my lady.

Merlin: (blushes, so he puts on his cape)

Arthur: (turns to the knights) Ensure you return to Camelot before dusk.

Knight y: Yes, Sire.

Arthur: (goes to Lancelot and whispers) Look after them.

Lancelot: (nods) Of course, Sire.

Arthur makes the signal with his hand and they set off. The prince stays in place just wacthing them leave. Merlin turns and crosses eyes with his prince and gives him a reassuring smile. Then they are finally out of sight and, after a minute, Arthur goes back to the castle.

Time skip. Morgana, Gwen and Merlin riding being escorted by knights in the woods.

Gwen: You two have been very secretive these days, my ladys.

Morgana: What do you mean?

Gwen: Well you seem to dissapear almost at the same time everyday. Is there something I should know?

Morgana: (looks at Merlin with a knowing look)

Merlin: (gives the same knowing look, smiling, and then turns to Gwen) You got us, Gwen. We are having a secret affair.

Morgana: (sings) We are so devotedly in love!

Gwen: (chuckles) Fine, don't tell me.

Merlin: (stops smiling, suddenly alert)

Morgana: (worried) Merl-Merelyn?

Merlin: They are here.

Bandits come out from behind the trees and run to them, shouting and running towards them with every intention to attack.

Knights: (on guard)

Merlin: (whispers) Tæfle!

The bandits that are riding fall off their horses, but the ones that go on foot still attack and fight the knights. Merlin deflects the arrows that are thrown at the knights with his magic, but is the much he can do without his intervention being noticed. Both knights and bandits start falling dead before their eyes, while Morgana and Gwen scream in terror.

Gwen: (looking around, shouts desperate) Lancelot!

Lancelot: (that at some point took the horse of a fallen knight, rides to Morgana, Gwen and Merlin) My ladys, follow me! (Slays a bandit that was approaching with his sword and rides ahead)

Morgana, Gwen and Merlin: (follow him, leaving the battle behind)

Morgana: (when they are far away) I think we lost them!

Suddenly the horses neight in pain and leap their front legs in the air, making Morgana, Gwen, Merlin and Lancelot fall. Merlin slows their falls a bit with his magic so they don't get injured. When they stand up, the horses have already run off.

Lancelot: Gwen! (runs to her an checks her) Are you alright?

Gwen: I'm fine.

Morgana: (shaking off the dust from her dress) Your lady is fine too, thank you for asking.

Lancelot: (embarrased) My apologies, my lady.

Merlin: (shaking off the dust from her dress too) Your friend is also fine, just so you know.

Lancelot: You are a man and have magic, Merlin.

Merlin: So I don't deserve to be treated chivalrously? Rude (touching his head) I can't believe my wig is still on after this. (notices some things of metal on the ground) Caltrops... (alarmed) They put them here. We have to run!

Too late. Kendrick, the lead outlaw, appears before them with 6 more bandits on horses and they are soon sorrounded.

Lancelot: (puts himself infont of Morgana, Gwen and Merlin, raising his sword)

Morgana: (shouts) I warn you! I am Uther Pendragon's ward. He will have your heads if any harm comes to me.

Kendrick: (gets off his horse) I have no intention of harming you, Lady Morgana. (comes closer) You're much more valuable to me alive. (looks at her lasciviously) You may not believe it, but we are actually good men. We'll make sure to make you feel at home. You will be so pleased with our company that you won't want to leave us.

All bandits: (laugh)

Bandit x: What do we do with the other girls?

Kendrick: (looks Merlin and Gwen up and down) They look like lady's companions (smirks) and they are not ugly. Maybe we can get some money for them.

All bandits: (protest)

Kendrick: Or! I could give them to my men as a reward!

All bandits: (cheer sickly)

Kendrick: Yeah, I bet you've never tasted a noble maiden before.

Gwen: (scared, her hand over her dagger if she needs to use it)

Morgana: (prepared to use her hidden dagger too and gives a stony look to the men, not giving them the satisfaction of seing her scared)

Merlin: (looking around for something he could use to knock them up, magic sparkling in his fingers)

Lancelot: (yells, furious) Shut your mouth! Do not contaminate the ears of the ladies. Your presence is enough.

Kendrick: Oh, I do plan to contaminate them in other ways.

Lancelot: (threatenly, pointing his sword at him) You'll be dead before you try!

Kendrick: (laughs) You are outnumber. If someone's dead here is you.

Merlin: (spots some tree branches, thinking) Please, forgive me.

Kendrick: (to the bandits) Take them.

Bandits: (get off their horses)

Lancelot: (on guard, ready to attack)

Merlin: (about to use a spell to throw the branches at the bandits)

?????: You four have got yourselfs in a bit of a pickle, haven't you?

Merlin: (opens his eyes wide, thinking) That voice... Could it be?

Gwaine: (appears on sight) Come on. That's no way to treat a lady. And we have three.

Merlin: (surprised and very happy, shouts) Gwaine?! 😃

....

Lady Merelyn everybody!!

Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @starrieisdelusional , @error-username-not-available , @dogberryrowan , @jamieweasley13 , @tansyuduri , @tercais , @robynnemrys , @evadne01 , @serasvictoria02 , @hairdryerducks , @curiously-lazy , @harriettesthings , @andrealux16 , @wacko-weirdo , @greatdonutenemy , @yougottobekittenme , @anxiousosaurus , @kinkforwings , @someweirdassnamee , @impracticalantlers , @miyriu , @hobipabo , @whitemaskcd , @bogslob , @braziiis , @rubinaitoart , @thebigoblin , @toomanyfanficsbruh , @farmboyprince , @nonsensefunsense , @slightly-psycho-multifan , @jxmimac , @anarchelsworld , @beepbeep-yeah , @faithiikins

[onmyo-jin]

Guess who wrote all that before watching ep 17! Guess who immediately had to write more after watching episode 17 and drying my tears! Which I suppose makes this snippet for @echo-story as well^^ Just like last time I'm still taking prompts! Unlikely last time I will actually move on to the prompts people have sent already 💜

Since he showed the scars on his back at the gates to Kunlun mountain, Zhao Yuanzhou has never once tried to hide them. He has also not breathed a word about them since that they, simply acting like they are not there at all.

Eight scars.

Eigh long years.

Those same eight years have left their marks on Yichen, but all those marks were left against his will, not by choice. To choose that reminder, not once but many times? Zhou Yichen wonders at the strength behind that, fears for the pain behind that. 

Words are hard for him, always have been, but he hopes that his actions have at least shown that he is willing to accept, even if forgiveness is not (not yet) something he can offer. As they prepare for bed he catches another glimpse of those scars, this time in a mirror behind Zhao Yuanzhou, and he cannot help but stare. (Preparing for bed tonight involves fighting off repeated attempts at teasing kisses, as they have better things to do tonight than playing around– tomorrow will be an ungodly early start, and Zhao Yuanzhou is hard enough to wake even after sunrise. Only threats of dunking iced water on him to wake him tomorrow have made him cease his bothering. Which of course means that he is now trying to tempt Yichen to continue what he just made Zhao Yuanzhou stop doing.)

"Enjoying the view, Xiao Zhuo-daren?" Zhao Yuanzhou teases, probably assuming Yichen is staring at his indecently uncovered chest instead of his back. He is in his inner robe, just barely, draping it from one shoulder in an impractical fashion he probably thinks is alluring. Yichen will not be admitting that he is right. Few things escape the demon's notice, and for anything else Yichen would assume he was posing in front of the mirror on purpose as well. But not for those scars.

"No," he answers absently, and gets to see Zhao Yuanzhou pout in a way that is more adorable than he has any right to be. He turns a shoulder to him when Zhou Yichen steps close, pretending that his answer hurt him. It gives Yichen the opening he needs, and he wraps an arm around the demon's waist to pull him close, his naked back close to Yichen's chest, the heat of him obvious even through Zhou Yichen's clothing.

"Don't think that I will forgive you so easily, daren–" his breath freezes in his mouth in a quiet gasp when Zhou Yichen leans in close and presses his lips, his acceptance, against the closest scar he can reach. Under his lips the skin is heated, the texture of the scar unusually smooth against the demon's already smooth skin. He bites the small ridge of it, softly tests it with his teeth, and is rewarded with another gasp from Zhao Yuanzhou.

"Zhou Yichen-!"

"Tell me to stop," he murmurs, an earnest offer. He's not even sure what he's doing, why the evidence of his demon's repentance pulls on him with such force, but he doesn't want to harm Zhao Yuanzhou– not this night. Absentmindedly he moves down the scar, alternating bites and kisses, receiving more little sounds from Zhao Yuanzhou in return. No request to stop follows. Those soft little sighs are his only answer.

Zhou Yichen takes it as acceptance.

ZYZ + ZYC = 20. Kiss on a scar ♥️

Amazing choice, thank you! This one went a little maudling...

I'm still taking prompts! You can find the full list here, or feel free to make up a fun addition to the list~

Zhao Yuanzhou forgets at times how easily humans scar. How they carry the visual, visceral evidence of their defeats or their victories on their bodies for the entirety of their short lifespans. He shudders at the thought: if one had to wear one's scars for life, at his age he might be covered in scars. It's probably for the best he can heal himself as well as he can.

Next to him on the bed Zhou Yichen sleeps on, unaware he is being watched so carefully. He claims he sleeps better when someone is with him, and to his credit Zhao Yuanzhou hasn't seen him have any nightmares on any of the nights they spent together. If he makes sure to thoroughly exhaust Zhou Yichen before he falls asleep, well, one does what one must to help a friend avoid nightmares.

The sweat they worked up together has since dried on Yichen's skin, but the smell of them still lingers in the room. These quiet moments feel like a luxury, and he would wake Yichen to share the moment, but waking him would break the moment too, and Yichen would not appreciate being woken for anything other than an emergency.

So Zhao Yuanzhou luxuriates in the peace alone, remembering the scars that cross Yichen's shoulders, the one round arrow scar next to his navel, the barely-visible scars on his hands. To say Zhou Yichen isn't self conscious about them would be a lie, but he forgets to hide himself between moans and sighs as they spend an evening in each other's company. It is only afterwards that he remembers, and they both pretend Zhao Yuanzhou hasn't long seen the past Yichen carries with him on his skin, like he didn't kiss the same expanse of flesh moments or hours ago.

Zhou Yichen rolls onto his side, his back now to Zhao Yuanzhou. Normally Zhao Yuanzhou would take this opportunity to lie down beside him, to pull him close, and fit them together in a way that will help him trap Yichen in bed come morning. Tonight, instead, he sits up, leaning on one hand as he reaches out and slides Yichen's shirt off his shoulder.

Lean muscles shrug in response to the cold, but Zhou Yichen doesn't wake. Instead he curls in on himself, pushing his back closer to Zhao Yuanzhou's warmth. In the moonlight the visible scars gleam like pearls, like treasures instead of imperfections.

Zhao Yuanzhou can't help himself– and why should he? He is a demon, after all. He leans in close, running a hand under Yichen's arm and to his chest to hold him in place (to hold him close), and presses a soft trail of kisses along one ridged scar, and down another. Zhou Yichen stirs, but wakes only slowly. Still languid from their earlier efforts, he only moves far enough to open one eye and stare balefully but sleepily and Zhao Yuanzhou.

"What are you doing, you ridiculous demon?"

"Hmm, I'm having my wicked way with you, can't you tell, Xiao Zhuo-daren?" Zhao Yuanzhou teases, lips barely releasing the marked skin under them to form the words.

"Why do you like them so much?" Yichen doesn't even respond to the teasing. It's no fun, except for the fact that Zhao Yuanzhou vividly remembers how he caused his current exhaustion. He finally relents his kisses, and settles down with his chest to Yichen's back, head propped up on one arm to lean over him- to be able to kiss him properly.

"I find it fascinating, the way you humans carry your past with you." 

Judging by his frown, Yichen is not moved by his kiss. "And must you enact this fascination in the middle of the night?"

"Would you prefer I do it during the day instead?" He replies in mock-surprise. They both know the answer to that, and Yichen pulls him into a rough kiss just to shut him up.

"No. Now sleep, you great ape."

[lovegrowsart]

the argument i keep seeing that the choice qimir gives to osha to leave the island in episode six isn't a "real choice" because in the real world it'd maybe be realistically logistically/physically difficult to cross that body of water is driving me up the wall because it's such literal thinking when star wars has never been and will never be concerned with what's realistic or logistically plausible. there's fire in space in the first episode of the show, because fire needed to be there to give osha that moment of flashback to the trauma of her childhood and help further establish her character - it's entirely in service to the story, doesn't matter that that's not how it works irl.

the reason the ship is there is because it needed to be in the distance to facilitate the visual storytelling - osha looking back at the ship, her chance to flee/escape the underworld, then looking back at qimir walking away off screen and making the choice to follow him. that's literally (heh) it. he even suggests waiting for low tide if she wants an easier time of it if we're gonna be that concerned about how oh so terribly hard it'd be for osha - who is an adult ex jedi and a mechanic that does such dangerous jobs on space ships that the republic legit made it illegal for anyone but droids to do them - to manage a bit of a difficult swim :(

ymmv on the qimir being manipulative angle, but i think it'd benefit a lot of people's understanding of the dynamic between osha and qimir in episode six to remember that star wars is fairytale - it is metaphorical and psychological mythology. it is not realistic or grounded in reality, nor is it meant to be read with realism in mind, because then you're simply analysing/critiquing from a position that the story isn't operating from.

you don't have to take a creator's words into consideration when developing your own interpretation, but such things can be helpful and valuable. leslye headland's made her intentions re: osha and qimir's dynamic pretty clear - that it's not meant to be manipulative, that one of the purposes of episode six was to explore qimir's "lighter" side and osha's "darker" side (hence the wholly unsubtle costuming choices, him in natural-looking off-white and osha entirely in solid grey). while qimir isn't being wholly honest with her right off the bat (cause why would he be?), he also isn't deceiving or tricking her about anything re: who he is and what he's about - how could he? she knows his face. she knows entirely what he's capable of and what he did in episode five. he can't play the master and the fool the way he did with mae, he can only be as honest as a man like him can be if he wants her to listen to him. i don't think she's naive about him at all, and i think people struggle with understanding that - that she doesn't have any illusions about his morality or lack thereof - and understanding that she still has the agency and desire to listen to what he has to say. you can believe it isn't "good" for her to listen to him, sure, but that doesn't mean she's being maliciously manipulated maliciously.

[emdotcom]

If i was the twin towers, I woulda just dodged.

[inkskinned]

it is november, and yesterday it felt like it was supposed to be snowing. in boston, november used a winter month, not a fall month. it is supposed to be chilly; rarely capping over 45F. it is a sweater-and-jacket month. it is a "maybe a scarf too" month. in my childhood, november meant blizzards and sleet.

it did not snow. tomorrow the weather predicts a high of 76.

i have spent so many years of my life studying the longterm possibilities of climate change - the culmination of capitalism wreaking havoc on the bodies of people, animals, plants - but every so often i am still shocked by something small and personal.

in a hundred years, when someone goes outside in boston - will they know the feeling of "snow in the air"?

i know it's a learned feeling, a sensation that maybe only longterm experience can teach. a few years ago, i was walking with my friend who had just moved up from the south. i said it smells like snow and she gave me this look like - what the fuck. i said it feels like snow too, which didn't help. she looked up to the bright blue sky and then back at me and then back at the sky. 12 hours later, we had 3 inches. you can just tell if it's going to snow.

except i can't tell, anymore. i stand outside in a tee shirt and watch my dog dance around a lake. we're in a drought and the skin of the water has peeled back twenty meters. the lake is tamed, quiet, puddlelike and sour. my pokemon go app warns there's a weather condition in my area.

my dog gets too hot from running and sits in the water and i want to laugh about his long frame and how awkwardly he sits - and i can't. some simian part of my brain is scratching the walls. it was supposed to snow. it was supposed to snow, but now it's warm instead.

during the last full solar eclipse, the dogs and the birds and the crickets went crazy under utter darkness. we laughed at them then, promising it will all be okay in a moment. but some part of me is still locked in that long night: some animal sensation.

something is wrong, my body says. i can't afford eggs or rent. i go outside to watch a sunset and listen to birdsong. i don't bring a jacket. allergies are killing me this season, allergies i didn't have as a kid. everyone comments that halloween has started to feel strange, offkilter. that it's hard having "holiday cheer." my body thinks it's april, and then it thinks we're in september, and then june.

something is terribly wrong, she whispers. go outside. it is supposed to be snowing.

[nezuscribe]

gojo never imagined an arrange marriage with you, but now you’re all he can think about.

he thinks about you when he’s training, when he’s seated at his round table, when he’s in his bed, everywhere, every time, you’re all he can think about.

and you’re oblivious to it.

you heard the gossip everywhere you walked, about the girl gojo was pleading with his family to marry. how much he loved her, how beautiful she was, how much more elegant she was compared to you. you knew you were never his first choice, not even his fifth, but it hurt even more when everybody acknowledged it.

you stopped wearing your wedding ring, started acting like you were just another person there. luckily gojo didn’t seem to be in any hurry about making heirs, so pretending like you two were working things out didn’t even matter anymore.

you find yourself alone most of the time. your maids were kind and patient, but they had so many things to do throughout the day that you felt awful pestering them to walk around the estate with you.

eating dinners with gojo became normal, but most of your other meals were in silence, always feeling like a speck of dust in the large dining hall.

one day when you’re walking around aimlessly you stumble across the training grounds, the open space below you filled with men swinging wooden swords back and forth at each other.

it wasn’t difficult to find your husband, his white hair hard to miss in a crowd of others. he didn’t notice you watching from above, and so you stayed hidden, not knowing if the men were picky with who watched them.

he was swift and agile. everything he did was precise and with meaning. no wonder he was named the best warrior of the north.

you found this to be more entertaining than walking around the gardens for the tenth time or watching the cooks assemble the next meal, so you didn’t even notice how gojo looked up to see you, somehow slipping away without you knowing.

you were in a state of watching but not really thinking, almost jumping out of your skin when you heard his voice behind you.

“didn’t know i had an audience,”

you yelp, flinching as you look behind you to see your husband all sweaty, panting slightly as he moves his hair away from his face. you eye the stairs that led him up here, wondering how you could’ve missed that.

you laugh sheepishly, giving him an apologetic smile as you pick are your nails.

“i’m sorry,” you scratch behind your ears, feeling heat rise to your cheeks under his intense gaze. it’s unfair how pretty somebody can look, especially after training for an hour straight, “i was just walking around and i saw this.”

he waved it off, shaking his head as he leaned his sword on the wall.

“not a problem,” his eyes shine, “i just would’ve tried harder if i knew my wife was watching.”

my wife.

the words fall so smoothly from his lips you wonder how many times he’s said it before. with malice, hatred, necessity?

you smile a little bit, eyes crinkling around the edges as you look away briefly, not noticing the way gojo chased after your cheerful face.

“how’d you get up here? where are your ladies?” he asks suddenly, looking around at the fact that it was just you up here.

“my what?” you say, looking up at him through furrowed brows.

“you know,” he waves his arm around as if that would help, “you’re ladies in waiting,”

you scrunch up your nose a little bit, something he noticed you did when you were confused.

“oh, well, my maids are working right now,” you tell him, noting that he still didn’t look any less confused.

“no, not your maids, your ladies,” he tilts his head to the side, “the girls your family sent them up to help you around.”

you stare at him, unblinking.

“the girls that are your friends, the ones that help accustom you…” gojo trials off when he realizes he’s not getting anywhere with you.

you feel even more embarrassed than when he caught you watching him, hating the way you were clueless at yet another thing in this life that no one explained to you.

“the girls you hang around with?” he finally lands on, hoping this jogs your memory.

you shake your head, eyes wide as you fidget with the fabric of your dress. his eyes fall onto your finger, lingering on the fact that you’re not wearing your ring.

“who do you spend your time with throughout the day?” gojo seems even more lost than you. he’s seen you with…? well surely that one time…?

“by,” you swallow, embarrassed, “by myself. i walk around a lot.” you admit sheepishly.

“your family didn’t send…?” he answers his own question with his silence.

this entire time you’ve been alone?

he opens his mouth to speak but somebody beats him to it.

“satoru! get down here! we’re still not done!” his friends shouts from below, and you look over your shoulder to see all the men staring at the two of you.

gojo stares at you, unblinking.

“i,” he swallows but can’t find any words.

you can’t either.

he leaves you there, running down those stairs as he shouts at the other guys to resume what they were doing. that entire day he was off his balance because he kept looking up to see you there, but you weren’t.

maybe you were just walking around, like you said.

[sceletaflores]

I COULD PLAY THE DOCTOR (I CAN CURE YOUR DISEASE)

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4.1k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, established relationship, logan's pov, written with origins!logan in mind, nat veering dangerously closer to a/b/o territory with every passing day, rut cycles, oral sex (fem!receiving), fingering (fem!receiving), multiple orgasms, gratuitous amounts of dirty talk, p in v, rough sex, biting, hair pulling, size kink, belly bulging, pussy pronouns, one (1) single use of the word daddy, scent kink, pain kink, breeding kink ofc, knotting (don’t look at me…), squirting, porn w/ plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: don’t look at me…i don’t know how many times i swore up and down i’d never write something like this but i’m a confirmed liar apparently so…here. i mean i just figured i'm in a rut artistically so therefore the only answer is writing logan in a rut physically...i can do what i want and i don't need to explain myself or my horny thoughts. also, i debated posting this in the wake of everything that's gone down over the past two days that is still escalating and will continue to escalate in the coming weeks, but i think everyone could use a little escape from how scary things may seem right now. take a break from all the terrifying news sites and read about logan wanting to breed you :) kisses!

divider by angel @saradika-graphics!

it's been another six months, and logan needs your help...

The burn starts on the walk home from work, a pulse of heat deep in Logan's gut that grows with every step.

It spreads slowly, sinking into his muscles and seeping up his spine as he rounds the last corner, your place less than a block away now.

It caught him off guard this time, an itch burying itself under his skin earlier in the day only to get worse and worse as he worked.

He usually knew the signs well enough to feel them start creeping in, and he was dead sure it wasn't for another few weeks.

Apparently, he was wrong.

Logan’s jaw clenches as he picks up his pace, every nerve ending in his body straining to break into a full blown sprint at the thought of you, all alone and waiting for him.

His fingers curl into tight fists, nails pressing into his palms to ground himself, though it’s hardly enough. The faint scent of you drifts up from his shirt, not even a long day at the lumberyard enough to drown it out.

By the time he reaches your door, his heartbeat is a heavy thud in his ears, syncing with the building ache of desire wracking through his body like the earth rattling boom of a raging thunder storm.

He fumbles through getting his key into the lock, hands unsteady as he tugs the door open with a little more force than necessary and finally steps inside.

The second he closes the door behind him, the heat surges, thrumming through his veins and flooding his chest. Your scent fills the air completely, stronger now, wrapping around him so thick and sweet.

"Darlin'?" His voice comes out rougher than he intends, but he's beyond caring.

Your voice floats from the other room, casual, warm enough to send a jolt through him. Logan drops his axe from his shoulder, leaning it against the door as he starts down the familiar path to your bedroom.

You're spread out on his side of the bed—oblivious, curled up with a book, wrapped in one of the flannels he must have left the last time he stayed over.

Just the sight of you does something to him, like a match dragged against a strike pad, damned on setting everything ablaze.

You glance up, and the soft smile on your lips falters as you catch sight of him.

Logan knows what he must look like, his eyes all dark and predatory, chest heaving as he rakes his hungry gaze over you like a wolf watches a lamb grazing too close to its den.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just stalks toward you with a purpose that’s as undeniable as the heat pouring off him in waves.

The book slips from your fingers, forgotten, as you lean back, the small sound of your breath hitching under the weight of his gaze is music to his ears.

Logan pauses at the edge of the bed, towering over you, letting himself drink in the way you look. So soft and serene, like some kind of invitation that begs him closer. His flannel draped loosely over your shoulders–shrouding you in his scent. 

The urge to pounce on you fights against his normal instinct to savor every second, to draw it out until the heat pooling in his gut becomes downright unbearable.

“Been thinkin’ about you all damn day,” he mutters, voice thick and dark as molasses, rough from restraint he’s quickly losing. His knuckles brush against your thigh, then tighten, holding you in place as he leans down, his breath hot against your neck. “Thinkin’ about what I was gonna when I finally got my hands on you.”

Your skin blooms with warmth beneath his touch, and he grins against your neck, the edge of his teeth grazing you just enough to make you squirm. He growls low in his throat, that itch he’s been fighting nearly all day clawing its way up to the surface with a vengeance.

The primal urge inside of him screaming to claim claim claim take take take mate mate mate breed breed breed.

You tilt your head to the side with a soft sigh, freeing up more space for him to nose along your skin. “Is it time?”

Logan's breath catches as your question hangs in the air, thick with anticipation. The soft simplicity of it ignites the wildfire burning in his gut, every ounce of restraint slipping away like sand through his fingers.

“Yeah, baby,” he growls, slipping his fingers under the worn cotton of your shorts, feeling the bare skin beneath. “It’s time.”

You shift, hands going to the buttons of his flannel like you’re going to take it off. Logan stops you, taking your wrists in his free hand.

“Don’t,” he breathes, shaking his head hard enough that his hair flows with it. “Leave it on.”

The thought of you covered in his scent, of his scent mixing with yours to claim you on a level only he can discern sends his mind buzzing.

You look up at him with those wide, trusting eyes, and something in him cracks wide open. The tenderness of your gaze pulls at him, like a tether pulling him back from the edge, but that heat still smolders in his blood, fierce and unyielding.

Logan runs his thumb along the racing pulse of your wrist before he drops them. His hands venture lower, fingers pressing against the inside of your thigh, tracing a deliberate path that makes your body tremble under his touch.

You let out a shuddering breath, the scent of your arousal swirling through the air is enough to make him crave more.

In one rough tug, Logan yanks you towards the edge of the bed as he falls to his knees. Your hips held tight in his hands as he lurches forward, burying his nose in the soft junction where your leg and inner thigh meet.

He inhales deep, greedy lungfuls of your scent. A guttural growl rumbles through his chest, his eyes screwing shut at the sheer amount of too much that courses through him. He feels dizzy with it, high on the pheromones pumping from you in waves.

You’re soaked already, the wet fabric of your shorts melded to the shape of your cunt. He can’t help but run his nose along the slick seam of you, reveling in the way your legs twitch on either side of his head, in the short gasp you let out.

“Logan.” Your voice is nothing but a mewl, pleading and desperate.

“Missed you,” he rasps, his voice rough, almost unrecognizable. The edge of need in him makes his hands shake, sliding up your thighs, urging them even further apart as he settles between them.

Logan’s fingers dig into your skin, he lets his thumbs brush up, hooking them into the waistband of your shorts to tug them down your legs in one sharp yank. He groans at the sight of you completely bare, no underwear.

“Fuck, look at you,” he grates, his thumb coming down to slip through your dripping cunt. Your hole flutters desperately around him, needy little clenches like it’s trying to suck him in. “She’s all ready for me, huh? Been waiting for me to come home and give her some attention?”

“Please,” you whimper, your voice thick with longing, the sound going straight to his head, clouding his thoughts. 

Logan’s pulse races as he watches your body arch instinctively toward his touch, the desperate need in your eyes igniting the raw urges coursing through him.

He can’t deny you; he never could. You’re a feast laid out before him, and he’s starving.

Logan leans closer, letting his tongue flick out to taste you like he’s wanted to since he left for work this morning. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, closing his eyes and losing himself in the moment. He licks a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit, savoring the way your body responds, the way your legs tremble and your hips twitch against his mouth, seeking more. “Tastes like fuckin’ heaven, sweetheart.”

The taste of you is intoxicating—sweet and tangy, flooding his senses with every drag and swirl of his tongue.

Logan can’t help but moan against you, the sound vibrating through your body as he dives deeper, his nose nudging against your slick entrance as he shakes his head back and forth like an animal—rubbing the plush skin of your inner thighs red and raw with each rough drag of his coarse beard.

Every flick of his tongue sends a shockwave through you, and he revels in the sounds you make—each whimper, each moan, a siren’s call urging him deeper. He laves his tongue around your clit, sucking it gently, pulling at it with his lips as you writhe beneath him, begging for more. 

He keeps your thighs spread wide, two strong hands pinning them to the mattress so he can devour you just the way you deserve, the sharp dig of your heels into his shoulders only spurs him on.

Your hands bury themselves in his hair, tugging him closer, and he groans into you, letting his tongue delve deeper, seeking out every bit of sweetness he can coax from you. 

It’s pure sin, each sound you make, each shiver that runs through you as he takes his time, drinking you down like a man starved. 

The ache in him intensifies, his own need growing, pulsing. He’s hard, has been hard since he walked through the front door.

His cock strains against the zipper of his jeans, need pulsing in time with each pump of his blood through his shaft, circling around the base, threatening to expand even without the tight grip of your pussy surrounding him. His hips jerk up on their own volition, desperate for any friction.

“Just like that, Logan,” you gasp, voice breathy and trembling with pleasure. 

The way you say his name—raw, desperate—makes his blood run hotter. He grips your thighs tighter, anchoring you to the bed as he drinks you in, wanting to lose himself in you completely.

Logan pulls away just long enough to catch his breath, looking up at you with lust-drunk eyes, drinking in the sight of your sweaty cheeks, your heavy-lidded gaze, the way your chest rises and falls with each shuddering breath.

The pulse of his cock intensifies, urging him to speed things along. The base desire of his own instincts is getting harder and harder to ignore under your adoring stare.

He feeds his fingers into your clenching hole with no warning, a satisfied smirk tugging his lips up at your sharp gasp. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, the entire lower half of his face still shining with your essence.

Your cunt swallows him, two thick fingers sinking into the velvety heat like it’s nothing.

Logan groans as he feels you clench around him, your walls fluttering and drawing him in deeper. “That’s it, baby,” he mutters, his voice hoarse with need. “So fuckin’ ready for me, so ready for daddy’s fingers in your pussy.”

Your mouth drops open in another devastatingly desperate noise, your hands twist his hair roughly, soft breasts rising and falling each time you gasp for air. The dim light of the sunset filters in through the blinds, highlighting the curves of your body, slick and shining with a thin sheen of sweat.

Every clench of your walls around his fingers shoots a thrill straight to his cock, making him ache with the urge to bury himself inside you. The overwhelming need to take you completely, to mark you and fill you, pulses through his veins until he feels like he might explode.

But he’s not done tasting you yet. Not until you’re practically dripping onto the sheets.

He lowers his mouth back to your core, sucking your clit into his mouth as his fingers pump faster. The sudden intensity makes your thighs shake around his head, and he grins against you. He wants to see you fall apart—wants to feel it.

“Logan—please, I…” You can barely get the words out, voice breaking as your whole body strains against him, desperate and needy.

The wet slap of his palm against your spit soaked cunt is loud in the quiet of your bedroom, blending with the loud keens that fall from your parted lips. He crooks his fingers, rubbing at that soft, spongy spot inside of you.

“Come on,” he mutters, slick lips brushing against your clit as he speaks. “Give it to me, baby. Show me you're ready for my cock."

He drags the sharp edge of his canine against your pulsing clit with barely any pressure, and you're coming.

Your whole body tenses, back bowing off the mattress as you let out a broken cry of his name. The bite of your nails digging into his scalp feels harsh enough to draw blood, a feeble attempt at grounding yourself against the onslaught of pleasure. 

Your trembling thighs tighten around his shoulders, gripping him like a vice as your shaking cunt gushes around his fingers. Logan groans at the feeling, eyes slipping shut as you drench his wrist and chin in your juices.

Even then, he doesn’t let up, fingers pumping relentlessly as he draws out every pulse, every aftershock of your climax, every tiny spray of your release splashing against his wrist. 

He’s lost in the feel of you—slick and trembling under his hands, the scent of your release filling his lungs, thick and intoxicating.

You slump back against the bed, body limp and spent. His own need is a driving, aching force now, clawing at his insides, demanding more.

He slips his fingers free from your dripping heat, dragging them through the wetness coating his chin as he licks them clean with a growl, savoring every taste.

“Good girl,” he purrs, voice thick with pride and satisfaction as he pulls back, leaving your thighs twitching in the wake of his touch. But he still isn’t finished. Not even close.

You barely have time to catch your breath before Logan crawls up the bed, his eyes locked on you, pupils blown with need. He looms over you, hands planting on either side of your head. His cock grinds against you through the rough denim, and you can feel just how thick and hard he is, throbbing through the fabric, demanding to be freed.

With a low groan, he shifts his hips, dragging his bulge along your soaked cunt, sending another jolt of pleasure racing through you. His hands are all over you, gripping your waist, hot and possessive.

“Feel that?” he asks, pressing his lips the wild flutter of your pulse, the need to sink his teeth in the soft skin of your neck raises the hair on the back of his neck. “That’s what you do to me baby. Got me hard as a fuckin’ rock, just aching to be inside you.”

Your arms circle his shoulders, clawing at the fabric off his shirt. “Need you inside me, Logan. Please, want it so bad.”

The pure need lacing your words, your scent calling out to him, the way he can feel the front of his jeans getting soaked through with the slick pouring from your cunt all pull him deeper into the recesses of his hind-brain. 

The mounting desperation to stuff you full of his cock finally reaches a fever pitch.

With a deep growl, Logan rears back as far as he can bear, just enough to tear his shirt over his head before he fumbles with the heavy buckle of his belt to free his aching cock.

He shoves his jeans down, boxers quickly following until there’s nothing separating him from the cool air of your bedroom. His cock springs free, hot and flushed an angry red color, drooling from the tip enough that it drips down to stain the pretty floral sheets of your bed.

Your eyes zero in on him, mouth dropping open at the sight. His cock so heavy it doesn’t curve upward to slap against his stomach, instead it hangs down to sway between his thighs as he moves closer. 

Your legs spread as he nears, slick covered thighs parting to make room for him to slot between them. So obedient, so good, so well trained.

Logan takes himself in his hand, nearly wincing at the blazing temperature of his skin. He secures his hand around the base, squeezing where his knot threatens to pop before he’s even got in you.

He slips the angry head through the folds of your cunt, slapping it against your clit with a wet ‘thwack’ sound. He can feel the way it twitches and shakes, just as desperate as him.

“Look at that,” he mutters darkly, eyes glued to where he’s laid his cock flat against your stomach, leaking pre-come all over your soft skin. “How’s it gonna fit, baby?” He shifts his hips, sawing his length back and forth to see just how deep in you he’ll be.

Your glassy eyes drop, a broken moan passing through your slack lips when you take in the sight. Your hips rise off the bed, grinding your cunt along the seam of his heavy balls, along the prominent vein trailing up the underside.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Logan grits out, eyes hooded and dark as he watches you grind against him. “You’re gonna take it all. Gonna make you feel every last fuckin’ bit of me.”

He groans, gritting his teeth as he presses in further, each inch a battle against the tight, molten heat that grips him like a vice. Your body shudders as he fills you, your slick warmth pulling him deeper and deeper, and he sinks down until he’s fully seated, his hips flush with yours. 

The pressure is mind-numbing, your walls clenching around him in rhythmic pulses that make his vision blur. He stills for just a second, savoring the way your body stretches around him, hugging him in a way that feels like it was made for him alone.

Logan watches your face as you adjust to the stretch, your brows pinched together, each breath coming fast and shallow, your eyes glazed with pleasure.

Then, your hands come to his shoulders, nails digging little crescent moons into his skin as you nod your head, ready.

It’s all the confirmation he needs. His hips pull back before he slams in again, the force of it jolting your whole body. He presses his forehead to your shoulder, teeth bared as he muffles a snarl against your skin.

Logan thrusts again, and again, and again, hips setting a merciless pace as he watches the way your breasts bounce with each thrust, each little shudder.

His mouth waters with the need to taste, to sink his teeth into your supple skin hard enough to pierce clean through, hard enough to scar.

Sweat drips down the length of his spine, across his brow. It mats down the hair scattered over his chest, his dog tags slick with it when they bounce off his skin with each thrust. The grip of his hands tightens on your hips, it’s taking everything in him to hold back and yet he knows you’ll still bruise tomorrow. 

Pretty hues of dark purples and yellows in the shape of his fingers, ones he’ll catch you admiring in the bathroom mirror, pressing your own fingertips into them to feel the dull ache—to remember this moment.

“Made for this, aren’t you?” he rasps, his voice dark and possessive. “Made to take me, to be mine.”

The words barely leave his mouth before he’s bending down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries as he drives into you, pushing you both closer to that sweet edge.

“Fuck, Logan,” you gasp, breaking the kiss as your body trembles under him. “Can–ah!–can feel you in my stomach…”

Your hand drops from his shoulder, slipping between your bodies to rest over the sweaty expanse of your belly. Logan’s eyes follow your path, a feral growl bursting from his chest before he can stop it.

He’s transfixed by it, sure that if he pressed his hand to the soft skin of your lower stomach right over your own, that he’d feel it. Feel the way his cock punches up against your insides, so deep it's like he’s rearranging your guts to make room.

“Fuck.” His voice is nothing but a gravelly rumble, hoarse and dark as midnight. His hips speed up impossibly faster, chasing the feeling of your clenching walls choking the length of his cock so tight he thinks it might snap off at the base.

The flimsy headboard of your bed slams against the wall, creaky mattress springs screaming under his ministrations.

You feel like salvation, like the first rays of light after too many years spent in the dark.

He feels it with each kiss of his cock against your cervix, in the way your lips fit in the junction of his neck, in the red welts your nails leave on the skin of his back. He feels alive, truly alive, for the first time in decades.

“Say my name,” he grates, his hand cupping the back of your neck, coaxing you to look up at him, lips close enough to taste the heat radiating from his skin. “Tell me who you belong to.”

"Logan," you gasp, your voice breathy, edged with desperation as he pushes you closer to the brink. "Yours. Only yours."

A broken, shaky noise falls from his lips as he buries his face in your neck. He mouths at your skin desperately, presses his nose to where your scent is the strongest. 

Flashes of his release spraying your insides play behind his closed eyes, thoughts of drenching you so thoroughly that it has to take only forcing his hips to slam against the rippling muscle of your ass like you have your own magnetic pull. He feels it building, the slow swell of his knot presses against your folds, ready to burst.

“Come on, honey,” he begs, thumb coming down to rub slow circles over your slick clit. “Come with me, soak my cock. Show me how much you love it, how much you love me.”

Pathetic little uh uh uh’s fall from you with every thrust, broken up only by the breathy whines of his name as he pounds into you hard enough to push your body higher up the mattress. Finally, with a loud roar, he stuffs his growing knot inside of your cunt. 

Logan’s teeth sink into your neck before he can even think twice about it, the thick spray of his come filling you as his hands pull your hips down even further over his cock. He needs to be as deep in you as possible, to press forward until he can’t anymore, until his aching balls are flush with your gushing cunt.

He watches with rapt attention as you come with a loud wail, just from the feeling of his knot slotting into place. The clamp of your thighs over his hips is nearly as tight as the way your cunt seizes around him like it’s scared he’ll leave.

He groans at the over stimulation of your cunt milking his cock. Your slick leaks around the base of him, your shaking hole plugged so full it can only slip along the creamy ring to splash weakly against his thighs and hips.

Logan licks along the spot where his teeth pierced your skin, planting one last kiss before he’s taking you in his arms and rolling onto his back atop the mattress. The plush comforter sticks to his skin, your own sweaty body slipping against his as he tries his best to not jostle you too much while keeping you stuffed full of his cock.

He holds you to his chest until your breathing evens out, until your body stops trembling on top of his, until you’re nosing along the column of his neck.

“Logan?” Your voice is tiny, hoarse and scratchy. He feels your hand drawing absent minded shapes along the skin of his stomach. A circle, a star, a figure eight, a heart.

“Yeah baby?” he says, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, eyes slipping shut at the content feeling that spreads through him.

“Love you,” you murmur, voice soft but sure, the words slipping out without hesitation.

It’s the first time you’ve said it today, and hearing those three words from you sends warmth flooding through him.

Logan shifts slightly, pulling you even closer, his hand moving to the back of your head, cradling you with a kind of tenderness he used to think he’d never be capable of. “I love you too, darlin’. More than you know.”

Your body relaxes against him, the lingering effects of your shared intimacy still buzzing through your limbs, but now there’s a sense of peace, of safety, and a deeper connection.

He can feel the way your fingers curl lightly against his skin, the quiet smile that must be tugging at your lips as you press a kiss to the side of his neck.

And in that moment, with everything settled around him, Logan knows that this, right here, is everything.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

[guiltyasdave]

help me hold onto you

pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x mutant! f!reader

word count: ~3.5k

summary: Logan deals with feeling guilty after he's accidentally cut you with his claws in his sleep.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), able-bodied reader, reader has hair that can be pulled, no use of y/n, Logan lifts reader up but he's superhumanly strong, so-, graphic description of an injury, graphic description of violence, angst, nightmares, Logan's pov, fighting as foreplay, unprotected p in v, rough sex, biting, praise kink, a lot of animalistic behavior due to their mutations, like they're just a little... primal, it's cute i swear, also reader looks like a human being it's just the mannerisms, fluff

a/n: guess i'm a multi fandom writer now? this literally came to me in a fever dream, very much like the logan brainrot itself lol. this is my first time writing for the man, after watching the movies - also for the first time - last week, so please be gentle with me <3 something very similar happens in the origins movie and i wanted them to explore that more, but alas, i had to do it myself.

massive thanks to @kiwisbell for assuring me that this idea isn't terrible and for freaking out about logan with me in general, to @catchallfangirl for coming up with the whole cat theme and for being so supportive, to @sizzlingcloudmentality for matching my freak and taking the cat theme to the next level, for helping me plot and for being an amazing beta reader, and to @javier-pena for listening to me rant about this idea and being so lovely and supportive <3

dividers by @saradika-graphics who is a queen <3

notifications blog -> @guiltyasdavenotifs & full masterlist -> here

Most nights, Logan sleeps easier when you’re in bed with him. Your body pressed against his, your skin soft and warm against his bare chest. One of his thighs between your legs where you’ve wrapped yourself around him, your touch moving over his torso aimlessly, fingers curling into his chest hair, your hands kneading his flesh in your sleep. The soothing little purrs that emit from your chest when you’re sound asleep. None of it bothers him, no matter how many times it disturbs his own rest. 

It keeps him grounded, feeling you next to him. He’d rather spend the whole night somewhere in that haze between waking and sleeping, listening to your sounds, your breath fanning against his skin, than being pulled under into the depths of his subconsciousness. 

He’d rather open his eyes to see you disentangling your limbs from his, stretching your whole body, arching against him as you yawn. 

He’d rather greet you with a smiling “Good morning, kitten,” waiting for that adorable little crease to appear between your brows when you pout up at him. 

“Did I do it again?” 

He doesn’t hide his grin as he nods, growing wider when you flop back against the cushions with a groan. 

“What exactly?”

“All of it.” 

Your sorry comes out muffled as you hide your face behind your hands. 

“It’s okay,” he says, leaning over you to pull your hands away and kiss the pout off your lips. Caressing that spot under your chin with two fingers, watching you go all soft, baring your throat to him. “I like it.” 

He would much rather wake up like this. 

But it’s been a long week and he’s exhausted. Exhausted enough to get lulled into a deep sleep, encased in the safe cloud of your warm body against his and your touch on his skin. Exhausted enough to dream. And his dreams are not a safe place. 

His eyes fly open with a shout, his whole body jolting upwards, every muscle pulled taut. He doesn’t even register the claws shooting out between his knuckles, all of his instincts screaming at him to fight. 

He’s only faintly aware of the sudden yelp of pain from beside him, the movement of something jerking away from him. 

“Logan,” your voice rings through the buzzing in his ears. Smaller hands landing on his shoulders, fighting to hold him steady. 

It takes a few disoriented blinks before he recognizes the familiar bedroom, a few more deep breaths to stop his body from shaking. To clear the fog in his head enough to understand what you’re saying.

“It’s me, Logan. You’re safe, everyone’s safe, it’s okay.” 

His eyes find yours in the semi-darkness. Wide with worry, but firmly trained on his face, repeating that everything’s okay. He finally registers the familiar weight of you straddling him, understands that it’s your fingers digging into his shoulders. 

He’s still panting, not daring to look away from your face again. The one tether that keeps him from getting lost in his mind again. 

“Are you with me?” you ask, your voice softer now. 

He manages a nod, tries to smile, to wipe the deep worry of your face, but he’s not sure if his mouth even twitches. 

As the feeling slowly returns to his body, he notices something else. A kind of wetness, warm and sticky where your right hand is connected to his skin. The unmistakable tang of iron in the air. He stretches to turn on a bedside lamp, jostling you along with his movement. A quiet whimper hits his ears, so low that he’s sure you tried to suppress it. 

With a new kind of panic surging through him, he grabs hold of your arm, bringing it to his eye level. 

Three scratches ooze in deep red, just beneath your wrist. It forces a gasp from him, eyes dancing frantically between the wounds on your arm and your face. How much blood did you lose already while you were busy helping him? As if he deserved it. 

“Fuck, I’m— I’m so sorry baby, we gotta—” He stumbles over his own words, grasping at you almost blindly, panicked tears blurring his vision. He did this. 

“Logan,” you say, still so inexplicably calm. “It’s fine. Look. It’s fine.” 

You gently pry his fingers off your arm and bring your wrist up to your mouth. Your tongue darts out, drawing long licks against your marred skin, collecting the blood and gliding over the cuts in your flesh. 

It pains him to watch, but it’s the least he can do. The least he owes you. He watches you clean the blood off, watches as the wounds start shrinking at the touch of your saliva, as the skin smoothes over before his very eyes until there’s only three thin marks left, a shade lighter than the rest of your skin. 

“Look,” you tell him again, extending your arm towards him. “I told you it’s okay.” 

He knows you can do this, of course he does. Has watched you multiple times, his fascination with your powers never wavering. How fluidly you move, how quick you attack, how skilled you are at surviving. You just never had to survive him. 

You lean down on top of him until your whole torso rests on his, your thighs still on either side of him, burrowing your head into his chest. “Which war did you dream about?” you ask quietly.

Most of the time, the dreams don’t grant him the mercy to zero in on one single memory. It’s a constant stream, one fight after the other, until all he knows is shouting, fighting, blood and death.

“All of them.” 

You sigh deeply, your breath cool against his sweat-dampened skin. Raising your head a little, you start placing kisses on his chest, pressing your lips into his skin where you can feel the faint beating of his heart.

“I wish I could kiss this better, too,” you mumble. 

He chuckles humorlessly, one hand reaching into your hair to scratch at your scalp. You shudder at the touch, an approving little purr traveling up your throat. 

“It’s okay now,” he mutters, leaning in to inhale the scent of your hair. “Just— I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be.” 

It sounds so simple, falling from your lips like this. But it’s no match for the aching guilt that’s already eating at him, the questions of what if that start swirling through his mind. 

Your body is growing heavier on top of him as you relax, your breaths evening out and your eyelids fluttering shut. It soothes him, has his own breathing slowing down, but he can’t risk falling asleep again. Not like this, not with your body so close to his.

“What are you— Logan?” comes your instant protest when he moves you to your side of the mattress, your eyes flying back open, wide and mildly confused.

“I could’ve killed you,” he mutters. It could have happened so easily. Just a little deeper, just a slightly different spot. 

“No, you couldn’t,” you quip, arching an eyebrow at him. “Cats have nine lives, remember?” You sneak another quick kiss on his chest before finding his gaze again, a teasing smile on your lips. “Even kittens.” 

It’s an attempt to lighten the mood, to make him laugh. He knows that. You hate the pet name he’s given you. 

“And you’re not gonna waste one on me,” he grits out. 

Hurt flashes over your face, more pain in your eyes than when there was an actual wound on your arm. 

“It wouldn’t be—”

“Don’t you dare say it wouldn’t be a waste.” 

The words come out as a low growl, aggressive enough to send most anyone running. You don’t run. 

Your animal doesn’t like it when he growls at you. He can feel the tension rolling off of you, your hair probably standing on end. Gritting your teeth, you take a deep breath, release your fingers’ grip from digging into the sheets.

“Let’s talk about it in the morning,” you tell him, resignation in your voice. 

Your eyes fall shut again, your head for once resting on your own pillow instead of his chest. He misses the weight of it instantly. You doze off quickly, your hands still pawing weakly at his side, like your body can’t help it. He almost pulls you closer himself. 

While you sleep, Logan forces his own eyes to stay wide open, staring unseeingly into the darkness. 

It’s a quiet day. You had tried talking to him, tried to convince him that it’s okay, that it’s fine. He can’t keep listening to you insisting that him almost killing you is no big deal. He should have known, should have been more aware of the risk instead of letting himself get lost in the blissful sensation of your body curled around his every night. You’ve trusted him so completely, only for him to let you down. 

Just like he always does, the voice in his head whispers.

No matter how many times you swear that you can take care of yourself, he should still be protecting you, not actively putting you in danger while you’re fucking asleep. It’s happened once now, so it can happen again, and he knows that he could never forgive himself. 

He knows that he’s hurting your feelings. Sees how your brows knit together when he barely kisses you back throughout the day. How you bite your lip when the way you’re butting your head against his doesn’t make him chuckle like it usually does. 

He should be angry at himself. He is. But you shouldn’t be the one to catch the brunt of it, and it makes him feel even worse. You always say that he should talk about his feelings more, that it would help to let them out. He suspects that you’re right. He just doesn’t know how.

By evening, you’ve grown uncharacteristically quiet, but he keeps catching your burning glares at him when you think he isn’t looking. Finally, after you’ve stared at him for what felt like an eternity and he’s pointedly ignored you, you seem to snap.

“Can you stop it?!” It leaves your mouth in a hiss, triggering his instincts before the words even register in his brain. 

“Stop what?” he growls back. 

Your fingers curl as a low snarl escapes you. Normally, neither of you lets your animalistic side take over like that. Normally, you’re good at soothing each other. 

But tonight, he can feel the energy crackle between you, the tension begging to be released. 

“You know what! This fucking— sulking or whatever it is you think you’re doing!” 

He rises to his feet, pulling up to his full height. One of your hands twitches. 

“I’m not—” 

You charge at him with an angry shout before another word can leave his mouth. You’re on him in a flash, grabbing onto his arm and letting your momentum carry you until you’re behind him, your nails digging into his shoulders until you’re perched on his backside. 

Whipping his head around, he bares his teeth at you, growls rumbling in his chest. You angrily hiss in his face and swing a hand at him in return, leaving angry red scratches down his cheek. They heal and fade as quickly as they came, but a triumphant grin flashes over your features regardless. 

“Come on, Logan,” you breathe into his ear. The edge in your voice sends fire straight through him. “Fight. You’re not gonna break me.” Your canines nip at his earlobe, somewhere between affectionate and challenging.

He tries shaking you off, but your grip on him only tightens. He collects a fist of your hair instead, pulling harshly to keep your teeth away from his throat. 

“Enough,” he grits, trying desperately to regain control, to become more human again, to smother the primal need to match your aggression. 

He finally grabs hold of one of your hands as well and manages to rip you off his back and in front of him, holding on tight to your upper arms to keep you in place. You’re snarling and twisting in his hold, but he doesn’t let up. 

“Enough,” he repeats, searching your wild eyes. Your movements slow down a fraction, giving him a moment of hope, before you surge forward and bury your teeth in his lower lip. It hurts like hell and he can taste blood on his tongue instantly. 

“Fight me,” you demand again, baring your teeth at him.

He pulls you back by your hair with a roar, gathers both your wrists in one large hand and holds you steady. You could still break free if you wanted to, he thinks. He might be stronger than you, but your movements turn almost liquid when you want to escape, he’s watched it more than once. 

The pain in his lip has already subsided, but his blood is still coating your mouth, a stark contrast against the white shimmer of your teeth. 

“Are you done?” His voice is harsh, his jaw clenched, carefully keeping the desire to strike back at bay. 

You deflate a little, some of the wildness draining from you before his eyes. 

“I just— I’m not fragile, I don’t want you to be scared of— of touching me.” Your voice grows small at the end and he’s horrified to see wetness glistening in your eyes. 

The fight mode leaves him as fast as it came, replaced with the overwhelming urge to care, to protect what’s his. His pack, in a way.  

He gathers you into his arms, curling himself around you. It feels good to hold you close again. Breathing you in deeply, he smells the adrenaline still oozing from you, hears the rapid beating of your heart. But mostly, it’s your unique scent, one that he thinks he could recognize anywhere. His tether to this world. 

“I’m sorry, kitten. I’m not scared of touching you,” he mumbles into your hair. 

You sniffle against his chest, but when you finally raise your head to look at him, new determination is glinting in your eyes. 

“Prove it,” you coo, tracing the shape of his lips with one fingertip. “Please.” 

That he can do. He nips at your finger playfully, your responding giggle the best sound he’s heard all day, before he shoves it out of the way to connect his lips with yours. It’s rough, a clashing of teeth and tongues, the tension that has been building and warping all day finally finding a release. 

You gasp into his mouth when his tongue moves against yours, your hands pulling at his hair, needing him closer and closer still, never close enough. His groan at the taste of you travels through you both as he’s grasping at your clothes. 

He longs for your warm skin under his palms, longs for how you lean into his touch so needy all the damn time. You pull away with a moan, helping him to pull your sweater over your head and stepping out of your jeans as he sheds his flannel. 

You bring both hands up to cup his face, to search his eyes. “Don’t be gentle,” you plead, “please, I need—” 

You don’t have to keep talking for him to understand what you need. I’m not scared of touching you. 

With a growl, his hands find your hips, holding you tight as he’s walking you backwards until your ass connects with the backside of the couch. He crowds you in, paws at every inch of bare skin he can reach, his cock already hard and aching at your soft warmth and the sweet mewls that tumble from your lips. 

Hitching one of your legs up to open you for him, he grinds himself against your barely covered center. A keening sound escapes you at the friction from his jeans against your sensitive flesh and he allows himself a grin. 

“Feels good, kitten?” 

You nod mindlessly, holding onto him and rocking your hips against his while you’re letting him move you however he sees fit. 

“Do you want more?”

“Please, Logan.”

You sound so sweet when you’re like this, when you put your body into his hands. I’m not scared of touching you.

Setting your leg back down, he watches with hunger as you hastily take off your underwear while he pulls the white tank top over his head and opens his belt buckle. He could swear that your pupils dilate a fraction at the sound of it, filling him with a possessive sense of pride. 

As soon as his jeans hit the floor, he’s all over you again, palming the weight of your breasts, tugging and pinching at your nipples as he swallows down your mewls. You’re soaking wet already, covering his cock in your slick as he nudges against your folds. He’s impatient to feel you all around him, to sink into you, to stake his claim again and again and again. 

He normally works you open longer, gives you more time to prepare, but your impatience is just as apparent as his own, with the way you whine and plead for him, your fingers digging into his flesh, trying to pull him nearer. 

He follows your pull, pressing your backside into the couch once more as he crowds your space. Leaning in, he kisses you deeply, licking into your mouth, one hand buried in your hair and holding you close. 

“I love you,” he breathes against your lips as he lets go of you. I’m not scared of touching you.

You smile softly, echoing the sentiment back at him. 

A surprised squeak escapes you when he turns you around suddenly, bending you over the back of the couch. He lines himself up at your dripping entrance, desperate to fill you up, to give you what you’re craving. 

“Not gentle?” he rasps once more, one hand curling around your neck from behind, both in reassurance and dominance. 

“Not gentle,” comes your breathy answer. It breaks off into a shriek of a moan when he slams into you with one long thrust, stretching your tight walls around his length. The sting of his sudden intrusion has to hurt at least a little, but you push back against him eagerly, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. 

Logan holds himself still for a moment, mesmerized by the sight of your squirming body and your needy little sounds, before he pulls out almost entirely, only to push back in forcefully. Your toes barely reach the floor with how far he’s bent you over, lifting you into the air with every harsh thrust, but he’s holding you steady with ease, both hands possessively spanning over your waist, positioning you exactly where he wants you. 

“Taking me so fucking well, like you were made for me,” he growls, gently scratching over your back with his nails. You arch up to chase his touch, tightening around him, almost purring with pleasure. Wetness pours out of you, coating his cock. I’m not scared of touching you. Not when it feels this good. 

“M–more, please,” you whine, blindly reaching backwards to him. 

He leans over you, cages you in, his arms on either side of you, his breath hot against your skin. His teeth sink into the back of your neck, not so deep as to draw blood, but enough that he knows the indents will stay there for quite some time. 

Your whole body goes limp at the sensation, a surprised mewl escaping you as you clench around him wildly. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, his own hips stuttering, “give it to me kitten, come on—” 

He reaches around your hip, fingers teasing through your slick folds and up to your clit, rubbing with slight pressure as he keeps pistoning into your heat. 

“Logan—” you gasp, getting almost impossibly tight, before you shatter around him. He keeps thrusting into you, keeps up his ministrations on your clit, until the pulsing of your cunt around him sends him over the edge as well. He spills his release deep inside of you, the thought of leaving a part of him with you always filling him with a primal satisfaction. 

Pulling you up instantly, he gathers you in his arms, your body soft and pliant against his chest. Walking around the couch and sinking into the cushions to lie down, he gently moves you until your weight is resting on top of him, his embrace wrapping around you.

You stir a little, needing a moment to take in your position. The look of uncertainty that you give him damn near breaks his heart. “Is this okay?” You sound uncertain, too.

God, he’s such an idiot. 

“Yeah, kitten. It’s— fuck, of course it’s okay.”

thank you so so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed, and if you did, a comment or a reblog would absolutely make my day :)

-> part 2!