#will do smut later maybe
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icy-bluez · 10 months ago
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Strongest You've Ever Been (Part 2)
Warnings: Female lead, pet names, lots of fluff, bit of angst, mentions of blood and gore.
Characters: Zayne
Synopsis: You go to war, whilst pregnant.
A/N: Domestic moments with Zayne are killing me. I don't know if I should be writing a version for Xavier and Rafayel too. Btw, I need to know if I should include the other boys in the these fics or not.
| Part 1 |
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The morning sickness was back. Well, it wasn't really morning sickness because you were nauseous almost all of the time and struggled to eat much. Zayne held your hair back as you threw up in the bathroom, rubbing circles on your back and soothing you before bringing you back to bed.
He had gotten incredibly protective over you all of a sudden, not like he wasn't before. You currently had a pillow supporting your back, his arms wrapped around your legs and his head on your lap. He refused to let go.
You looked over his shirtless back as you ran your fingers through his hair. He seemed to ease as time passed by.
"Zayne, are you alright?"
"I should be the one asking you that question..." He looks up from your lap, vulnerability evident in his features. He sighs. You smile at him and keep stroking his soft hair.
"Is something bothering you?"
He finally relents. "I'm...quite anxious..." he starts. You encourage him to go on.
"I'm so elated about the fact that I'm going to be a father but thinking about you throwing yourself in the face of danger has me worried for the safety of both of you." He softly touches your stomach.
"I'm going to make sure I'm alright Zayne, for you, for me and the growing life in me." you pause with a sad smile. "And my squad is almost as protective as you. When we tell them of my pregnancy, I'm pretty sure they're going to watch over me like hawks."
"Still does not reassure me." He mumbles.
"Oh Zayne..." You kiss his hair.
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The time to get back to the frontlines had arrived. Zayne had successfully gotten hold of the permission to temporarily serve at the military facility in the current warzone. The both of you arrive at the barracks together, Zayne held your hand the entire way. The Z01 squad immediately welcomed you back, which was running at you so fast they almost toppled over each other, you included. But Zayne came in for the clutch, immediately whisking you away in his arms as Tyler and Eugene fell on top of each other.
"Hey! Mr. Husband! That is cheating!" Tyler complains.
"Yeah, why'd you just whisk her away?" says Eugene.
Zayne just sighs like an exasperated father, arm still around your waist.
You laugh. "We have something to announce."
"That Mr. Zayne's serving as a military doctor temporarily? We all knew that would happen." Jennie whispers.
"I can hear you, you know?" You say pointedly.
The squad quietens down.
"Okay, I'm pregnant. I will continue to serve my position as General, I have run it over with Captain Jenna and the other HQ officials. My Evol will still be used in order to protect you, be rest assured about it. There will be slight changes in the scheduling for troops directly under me--"
"Wait wait wait slow down!" another squad member exclaims.
"Yes? Any questions Ms. Davidson? You stop.
"You've just going to speed run over the fact that you're pregnant and expect us to go 'oh yeah makes sense'?!" Jennie throws her hands up.
You look around, confused. Zayne just stood slightly enamored by the authority in your voice.
"I don't understand..." you start.
"Well! We're going into war, you're pregnant, you're also the General, you have a heart disease and I'm pretty sure the entirety of the squad is concerned. But. WHO CARES WE NEED TO CELEBRATE." Eugene proposes loudly.
"You deal with a very energetic bunch." Zayne says, a small smile on his face.
"I know...but we have to get started on the plans and drafts--" you start saying but Zayne just moves away and pushes you towards them.
"Have fun."
"What no! Don't go! You're coming with me!" You grab his hand then look expectantly at your squad. Never having seen you so vulnerable before, they just cheer and half-carry, half-drag the both of you to the mess hall.
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The morning after, a stillness had settled in the military settlement. You hadn't seen Zayne since the morning as he had gotten busy with tending to the wounded. The Metaflux ratings had spiked. Squadrons went into the containment zone under your lead and you waited until the worm hole appeared again. This time, you were more prepared but also scared. You ordered your soldiers into formation and almost in queue, the Wanderers appear. You could see many of the hunters stood closer to you, poised and ready. With a surge of gratefulness in your heart. You charged into battle.
You took down enemies with a grace that had your squad feeling proud of having you as their Captain. The Wanderers did not mindlessly attack this time, they stood in a formation, led by orders. You didn't like the behavior. Aiming at another wanderer, you shot before it impaled a soldier. You were scared about overexerting yourself so you stood at a distance, using ranged weapons only.
Before a wave of nausea hit you and you dropped to your knees on the ground. Tyler shouts your name from the side whilst fighting a wanderer.
"Captain! Are you aright?"
You take a deep breath, look up and shoot at your target, still on your knees. You shout back at him.
"I'm your General on the battlefield."
You hear Tyler grunt but still spare a look to smile at you. You sign 'don't get distracted' at him and once again do your graceful dance.
You squat down behind a destroyed house, gun to your chest and listening for the threat. A wanderer roams slowly looking for you. Eugene, Tyler and a senior member of the squad named Amir are all close.
"Target at 2'o clock. Get ready." you whisper.
"Roger."
"General, are you sure you're going to be okay?" Amir asks.
"I can fight Mr. Zhafran. Be rest assured. If I do drop, I'm counting on the lot of you."
"You're scaring me Gen.." Tyler says, looking like he was about to cry. You sigh.
"You can hug me later, just focus on the target at hand right now."
"...Roger." Tyler says, his voice breaking as he sniffs.
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Zayne can feel anxiety creeping up on him. While his face betrays no emotion, his steady hands show no sign of shaking, his mind wanders.
'What if you come back hurt?'
'What if you're too tired to come back?'
'What if--'
So many 'what ifs' eat at him. Unable to take it anymore, he walks out of the infirmary and looks into the containment zone. He can see silhouettes of people, bright flashes of Evol and can hear lots of screaming. The ground is bloodstained, some mutilated bodies lie close. The stench of sweat, blood and rotten flesh wafts in the air. He immediately regrets coming outside as his fears become more deep-rooted. The sight was nothing he wasn't used to but thinking about you in this same situation...
He is brought out of his spiraling thoughts by his phone vibrating in his pocket. Its Dr. William.
"Yes, what is it Dr. William?"
"Just called to check up on you. Are you busy?"
"Not currently and I'm fine. Is there anything important you wish to talk about?" he asks.
"Let me ramble, nothing important. You know, you could have at least thanked me for helping you get that permit. You just rushed out of the hospital like you were being chased."
"Thank you." Zayne says, deadpan. There's silence on the other side.
"I can almost see you rubbing your nose bridge in anxiety in my mind's eye." William says, his voice gentler now. Zayne sighs.
"Your wife is one of the strongest women I know. Going into war while pregnant. She's going to get one of those fancy military awards for sure when she comes back. Have you seen her fight?" William says with an excitement in his voice.
Zayne smiles to himself. "I have yes. I was frankly impressed by her skills."
"Yeah you see? Everything is going to be just fine." William reassures, ever the cheerful guy.
"I'll have to take your word for it."
An announcement goes off.
"The squad on the Eastern battlefield has been wiped out. All military trained medical personnel are requested to come to the safe camp in the containment zone immediately. There has been a flux of wounded and casualties in the eastern squad. I repeat--"
Zayne feels his heart drop.
"Oh no, I'll call you later. Go!" William hangs up.
Zayne almost drops his phone while bolting. Rushing to meet the other doctors, Zayne follows them into the containment zone. When he reaches the eastern battlefield, he immediately gives out orders to start with their healing. He can see the immense massacre and subconsciously looks for your face. It wasn't long before he saw your face, his only reprieve was you weren't wounded.
"Zayne!' you say, while fending off a wanderer. You shoot it between the eyes, pull out a dagger from inside your boot and chop another's neck off. A third arrives, you drop to the ground and use your feet to kick up into the wanderer's face. You then use your Evol to jump high into the air and drop kick the wanderer, your Evol enhanced strength effectively buries the wanderer neck deep into the ground. Zayne watches, awestruck before hurriedly resuming his duty. Troops appear around the doctors, protecting them as they help wounded hunters. Zayne reassures himself that you're going to be alright and continues with diligence.
"Standby team, get into formation and come to set co-ordinates immediately." You order.
"Get the stretcher ready. We need the defibrillator, carry patient into the camp immediately. Make sure to sterilize the surroundings." Zayne instructs.
Together the both of you help bring a moment of peace to the battlefield. Its almost the end for this day.
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There's a quietness that you cannot bear after the immense amount of screaming. Nobody talks. A lone wanderer appears from the very edge of the battlefield. Everybody gets ready. You are starting to feel extremely exhausted and can barely keep your eyes open. Losing balance, you steady yourself on a nearby hunter.
"General..." they say, holding you steady.
"This is the last one remaining?" you ask, feeling sick to your bones.
"Yes ma'am. You should sit down for a while, we will be able to take care of it."
You put your hand on your stomach. No matter how much you want to step onto the battlefield with your soldiers, you did not want to make Zayne more worried about you than he already was.
"Okay."
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You had collapsed. Zayne immediately came into the infirmary after his latest patient was stable. He would only be able to stay for 15 minutes max but he wanted to utilize whatever little time he had with you. Sitting down on a chair beside the bed, he grasps your hand in his.
"Are you going to do this to yourself for the next month or so?" he whispers, bringing your hand to his lips and closing his eyes. You stir.
"Mm...Zayne..." you say in your sleep. He clutches your hand tighter.
"I'm right here." he whispers, not knowing if you were awake or simply calling his name out in your sleep. You did that a lot and he found it incredibly endearing.
"Zayne.." you say again and open your eyes, finding yourself eye to eye with a very blurry image of him. "Why are you still awake...go to sleep..."
Zayne smiles sadly, listening to your half-asleep rambling.
"Its not time to sleep yet, love. Though for you it is. I recall you saying you would not over-exert yourself..."
"I tried..." you say, weakly pulling his arm, wanting him to get into bed with you.
"I still have some work to do Y/N..." he scolds, yet gets under the sheet, throwing one hand under your head and the another over your waist. His presence like a warm blanket, making you feel safe and loved. You feel his fingers stroke your hair and detangle the knots in them. You bury your face in the crook of his neck.
"How are you feeling?"
"Okay now.."
"Be honest y/n." he scolds gently.
"Mm...nauseous and tired. My boobs hurt but they look bigger teehee." You look into his eyes. The both of you look dead tired.
"That is normal during pregnancy. Please tell me if there's something out of the ordinary. If there's blood--"
"Stop, I'm scared enough already."
Zayne almost instantly shuts up. You look up slightly guilty but he just kisses your forehead.
"My apologies."
"You don't have to apologize you big oaf."
"Oaf? Me?" he looks amused.
"Big Snowman?"
"How about Dr. Zayne? Doesn't that fit?"
"Big Snowman." you declare. You feel his chest vibrate as he laughs.
"You were amazing today." he muses.
"Oh yeah, you saw me."
"If you fight like that everyday, I cannot help but be concerned."
"The eastern squad was wiped out Zayne...I...got angry..." sadness clouds your voice. "We're going to hold a memorial for the deceased soldiers tomorrow. There were some we couldn't even get the bodies of." you pause, continuing in a whisper, "I don't know how I'm going to face their families..."
"Y/N..." You fall into silence.
"There were times when patients had died by my hands when I had spent and immense about of time, put an incredible amount of effort into saving them. If they still didn't make it, I would feel devastated and you would come comfort me." he says.
"But this is the thing, you tried your very best and that is what matters. You cannot spread yourself too thin, cannot protect everybody. That is reality, maybe with time the grief will lessen."
"Does grief really go away with time?" you ask, letting yourself be taken care of, be scolded, be comforted. You were human after all, you couldn't be strong all the time and you had an amazing person to be vulnerable with. So why not?
"No, but people can simply get used to being in sorrow."
Somebody opens the door, making Zayne look up from your embrace. Tara, your friend looks into the room, gives Zayne and apologetic look. "Just a little announcement, Dr. Zayne you can stay here if you want. The patients in the ward have been taken care of, many of them are stable now. Please rest, and you too Y/N, don't forget that I'm mad at you." she says sadly before leaving.
"Stay with me?" you ask Zayne.
"I would never say no to your requests love."
ANTHOLOGY LIST
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tryingtimi · 18 days ago
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I loved the mistletoe kiss tag in the prev years, and haven't had any holiday specials for my stories in a while, so here's an event of some sort: Those who follow me for a little while already know that winter is one of my favourite seasons right after autumn. It's a time, when I feel others a bit closer to myself, and when it feels like most things are possible. Maybe it's the last sprints of the year as its slowly coming to its end. Maybe it's the looming new beginning that teases us too early. I'm not sure, but I know that a lot of us either craves or simply has their creative juice filled for this period. This year winter came early (at least in my area) so I'm here to offer you some writing prompts for this coming december, and invite y'all to the celebration of everything that winter might mean to you or your characters. Of course, not everyone celebrates christmas, nor necessarily likes or has fond memories with winter, so I tried to put together the list in a way that gives room for personal interpretation. This post only contains the list of prompts without any special rules and it's for anyone to use it as they like. However, if you tag your work with #allthatthawsinthecold, and/or tag me under your snippet, I'll reblog it in december to spread the spirit of this little, made up event. Happy writing!
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❅ Cold hands, warm hearts ❅ A patchwork group compare and/or celebrate each member's traditions together ❅ First snow ❅ Flurry & Frozen ❅ A long-held, deep grudge resolved/created ❅ Visiting the hometown ❅ Finding/ creating a family heirloom ❅ When The World Quiets ❅ Silent Night ❅ Kindled ❅ Pink-tinged noses ❅ Ice skating in a snowstorm ❅ Mistletoe kiss ❅ Glitter in Your Eyes ❅ Fireplace or Candle Lights ❅ A Mist That Never Settles ❅ Until Tomorrow
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❅ Winter Garden by The Mayries ❅ Winter Song by Sara Bareilles, Ingrid Michaelson ❅ Vincent by Ellie Goulding ❅ Work Song by Hozier ❅ Cold Answer by Matthew Perryman Jones ❅ Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence by Ryuichi Sakamoto ❅ Mystery of Love by Sufjan Stevens ❅ Before The Day Is Over by Joji ❅ When a Sunset Knows Its Worth (Rebirth by Poest of The Fall) ❅ Things That Grow Under The Winter Snow (Winter Song by Sara Bareilles) ❅ A little explosion of hope (She Burns by Foy Vance) ❅ You're not the arm that hold you (Places by Portair)
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❅ Bonded by gift-wrapping ribbons ❅ Glitter-covered sex/ make out ❅ Naughty or Nice roleplay ❅ "Don't start what you can't finish." ❅ "I'm here to touch, but you can only watch." ❅ Make out by the fireplace ❅ "I can be your present." ❅ "Aren't you a delight to tease?" ❅ Decorating gone dirty ❅ Warming each other with body heat
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stnexus · 6 months ago
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anyone else thinking about sundress szn with art? anklets on and his mind constantly racing with thoughts of your feet near his ears. kissing at your neatly polished toes. spitting on your exposed clit as he fucks into you. his hands sliding up and down your thighs, groaning and whining about how he’s been dreaming about touching you all day? no? just me?
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zeroinetoheroine · 15 days ago
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A Song of Swan and Dragons
I cannot believe I'm writing another fanfic (PoW will be finished I promise!) but here we are.
This fic is the result of @lacebvnny and me RP-ing, and everything about OC (Arianne) and the plot can be credited to both of us. She has a few snippets written on her blog so check it out.
The story is safe for now, but it will get progressively darker. The warnings will be updated.
A Song of Swan and Dragons
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Following Princess Rhaenyra as one of her ladies-in-waiting, Arianne Swann was woefully unprepared upon arriving at the Red Keep.
No scroll or tome could have captured the astounding amount of gossip that thrived within the Targaryen court. For a mere lady like her, it felt as though she had made a catastrophic blunder before even having the chance to place her pieces on the board.
Yet, if she allowed her heart to guide her—especially toward the man it had chosen—Arianne believed she could endure anything and emerge triumphant. Prince Jacaerys Velaryon would one day be king, and though her father often said that hope was a fool’s errand, she dared to dream she might one day be his queen.
If only his boor of an uncle would stop tormenting her.
I. Mēre
(I've linked ao3, as tumblr makes spacing weird.)
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vanmarkus · 11 months ago
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Wip Word Search 🔍
rules: use this generator to generate three random words (or however many you'd like to do) and share the lines where they show up in your WIPs
my words: affect, great, opposed
1. affect from the mudslide fic ☔️
He watched as Eddie got up from the couch, carefully depositing Christopher’s legs from his lap before turning back to him and planting a soft kiss onto the top of his soft curls. He was getting too old for these kinds of affections when awake and — as much as he couldn’t wait to see Christopher become his own, independent person — Buck desperately wanted to halt time. It wasn’t a fair thing to think; Chris wasn’t exactly his kid to begin with and regardless of what Eddie’s will said would happen after his death, Buck's place in their lives wasn’t set in stone, so he savored every tiny moment he could. Somewhere along the last handful of years, Eddie and Christopher became Family, with a capital F. Buck loved Chris like he was his own and his feelings for Eddie were clear as day — only if not for the man himself. It was better that way, Buck reasoned. He probably wouldn’t let Buck hang around all the time, if he’d have known. Eddie probably didn’t think of them that way anyway. Buck ran his fingers through the curly hair tickling his cheek and pulled the kid’s small frame just a fraction closer, relishing in the moment of stillness.
2. great from the jealous eddie fic 🧇
“So uh t-tell me about yourself, you know, hobbies, pets, family, whatever.” “That’s pretty broad.” Jason chuckled and Buck felt his cheeks heat up immediately. Wow, he really hasn’t been on a proper date in such a long time that apparently he lost the ability to make conversation. Great. “Sorry I—” “Relax, Buck. It’s alright.” His shoulders sagged a little at that. “I guess cycling is a hobby, right? I’m not allowed pets at my place and uh… Two sisters, parents live in Nevada.” “Uh great, that- that’s great! I have a sister too, my parents live in Pennsylvania though.” Jason assessed his face for a long moment before he leaned back in his chair with a small sigh. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you seem much more nervous than before. Is everything alright?” “Uh yeah— yeah, I’m fine, just…” Buck sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “Eddie, my uh my partner at the 118, he’s been acting kinda weird about us going out. I just… I don’t know, I guess I got a little into my head about it.” A disapproving frown tugged at the patch of skin between Jason’s eyebrows for a moment, before it disappeared with a sigh. “So he’s one of those guys then.” Buck knew what he meant instantly; the type of guys who were just too macho not to feel threatened by even the mere mention of two men dating. Of course, it couldn’t have been further from the truth —  and Buck was quick to make that clear. “N-no, not at all! He’s a good guy, great actually. He’s my best friend.”
3. opposed from the breeding kink fic 🛏️
“You might be right,” he breathed, leaning over Buck and slipping his hands under his thighs for more leverage, “maybe we should just stay here like this forever.” Eddie’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment when he bottomed out again. It wasn’t a plausible or in any way realistic idea, really, but Eddie found that he still wasn’t opposed to the fantasy of it. Especially not when Buck’s warmth enveloped him so perfectly, while he got to watch his chest rise and fall quicker and quicker, listen to his quiet whines and grunts as Eddie sped up his movements until he hit a steady rhythm and smell as fresh sweat broke through the lingering scent of their shared body wash; tea tree and mint. His hair was still damp from their shower and that was one thing they didn’t share; the shampoo — and god, Eddie was grateful that it never became something that he’d lose on the account of getting used to smelling it on himself, so now he could let the fruity and fresh scent of green apple, and something that uniquely belonged to Buck wash over his senses.
tags under the cut 💛
I was tagged by @hippolotamus @theotherbuckley @daffi-990 @jamespearce9-1-1 @fortheloveofbuddie and @wikiangela thank youuu 💛
✨no pressure tagging: @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @jeeyuns @eddiebabygirldiaz @nmcggg @thewolvesof1998 @ladydorian05
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nina-ya · 2 months ago
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Hello everyoneeeee good morning to you all!! Happy Monday my loves it’s the start of a fresh week let’s make the most of it 💕💕💕
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thursdaygrl · 4 days ago
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open starter for w/nb muses plot: your muse and rory meet at a very difficult time in their life and got unexpectedly close. rory is able to open up to them in a way she hasn't with others and has accidentally let slip that she has feelings for them.
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"i didn't... okay, i didn't mean that in that way." rory was scrambling, her cheeks burning and her eyes widening. god, she wanted to run, she felt so incredibly stupid. she'd been trying so hard to keep whatever confused, impulsive pangs of adoration she'd been feeling at bay. "it's just a crush, i think. it's not a big deal. i didn't want it to make things weird between us."
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osaemu · 11 months ago
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good night tumblr dot com
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sscieloz · 9 months ago
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hello btw, my lovelies ˆˆ I'm back from my trip n straight to the evil lab. to COOK for you mwah.
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eluxcastar · 2 years ago
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I saw a post about sub Ky once and I have not stopped thinking about it because God damn it tickled my brain good I need more of it
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orcelito · 2 years ago
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Did a bit of a number on my knuckles. Hands r hard to bruise, but there's the shade of a bruise on the outside edge of my hand, right at the knuckle. That really was not intentional.
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omegawolverine · 3 months ago
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thinking about logan/hank/wade professors au but they fuck nasty after hours
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coweye · 4 months ago
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The Honda Odyssey
Logan Howlett x Reader | smut | 6k words Summary: The car fight reimagined and it only needed to be like 10% more erotic than the original.
I got carried away. I just love Wolvie so much. I'm so happy Logan is getting the adoration he deserves. Long live the Wolverine renaissance.
Warning: smut, p in v, ass play, foul language.
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If you had to pinpoint a moment when your life became the shit show it had steadily developed into, you’d say it was the moment you auditioned for X-Force.
In your tenure as besties with Wade Wilson, it's fair to say things hadn’t gone smoothly. The man was a conduit to all things fucked up, but you adored his loose morals and quick mouth. The idiot in red had weaselled his way into your heart and became something of a brother to you and more recently a roommate.
Now, if you’d have told your younger self you’d be in your late twenty’s sharing an apartment with a burn victim who regularly staples a toupee to his fucking head and a coke-head, blind, old African American woman, you’d have laughed in their fucking face.
So, you’d like to think that as these things go you are pretty damn well adjusted but traversing the multiverse was a bit of a stretch, even for you.
One moment you’re at Wade’s surprise party, the next your ass has been zapped to the TVA and you’ve been given a sacred mission; to accompany Marvel Jesus (Wade) and protect the sacred timeline.
Naturally you’re fucking mind blown, you’re a low-level mutant, fuck, you couldn’t even join the X-Men.  Your particular set of skills were a dime a dozen and your flagrant disregard of rules had made you a ‘poor candidate’.
No, the mutant powers you had been graced with weren’t extraordinary by any means. You were basically an off-brand Captain America, just without the gorgeous cheekbones, patriotism and righteous need to do good.
In layman terms, you are strong as shit and have an accelerated healing factor. Not quite the same level as Wade’s mind you. You have, give or take, an inconvenient five-minute turnaround on the more fatally debilitating wounds.
To say you were unqualified was an understatement and to say you were reluctant was a simple fact. A fact you repeated, loudly to anyone that would listen as you were bathed in rich black leather.
“I think maybe you meant to grab negasonic teenage whatchacallit… she’s great, super powerful!” You continue. “Did you mean to get Domino or Colossus or maybe one of the X-Men? “
“No Miss Y/L/N. We have not got the wrong person for the job.” The man you later find out is called Paradox, calls out as you re-enter the operation headquarters. “Mr Wilson requested your presence; he wanted your assistance on his mission.”
“Y/N/N… ten out of ten, baby girl, I one hundred percent would bang. I’m talking raw dog, Barry White on a rug, let’s go all fuckin’ night.”  Wade hollers in his own brand-new suit and even you must admit, you look fucking amazing. “Sweet angel, we’ve just gotta’ come up with a superhero name for you!”
You are enrobed in rich thick black and teal leather, your first ever hero suit and it’s a fucking good one. It doesn’t cling, but instead pulls you in securing your flesh and extenuating curves, ones you hadn’t entirely realised you had. The bottom half your face is concealed with a mask, carefully crafted to follow the contours of your nose and cheekbones.
You’d barely recognised the mysterious figure in the mirror.
“Right?! Tailor was pretty handsy though!”
“Oh yeah, ha! - that man is indeed a predator.” Wade says with a chuckle and a fond sigh.
It shames to you to say but that’s when you stopped fighting this whole thing. You looked the part of a hero; you thought that maybe the TVA knew what they were doing. That they had seen something in you and knew that you had a good heart under all the darkness that lingered on the surface.
Wrong.
You were just a demand Wade had made. He wanted his number one disciple at his side whilst he carried out his sacred mission. You were part of an attempt at appeasing him whilst they destroyed your timeline.
Little more than a pawn to be used whilst they manipulated him into a false sense of security.
Thus, you were thrown into a series of events far beyond your control when Wade being Wade decided you were hunting down a Wolverine to stabilise the timeline, only to be once again fucking zapped into some place they called the void by that little English shitbird named Paradox. It’s entirely accurate to say that you were a little less sturdy than your compadres.
Unfortunately for you, the fall from such a height into the void was fatal. When you finally awake in the desolate wasteland to the sounds of blades clashing it is disorientating to say the least.
Forcing yourself to your feet you lower your mask and gasp in the sweet strangely stale oxygen as you stretch out your newly healed spine with a groan. It was impossible to tell how long you were out as you take in the scene before you; Wade and the Wolverine are engaged in a heated battle. From the looks of it, Logan is winning this fight despite being the human equivalent of a knife block with Wade’s katanas protruding from his chest.
For a moment you pause, perhaps its head trauma that hasn’t healed (He’s fucking Deadpool, he can look after himself for two minutes) and appreciate his form, the Wolverine the two of you had kidnapped was gorgeous. Tch, as if there was any other kind.
Sure, you were biased you’d always been somewhat of a fangirl, but the Wolverine was objectively breath-taking.
You’d indulged in comics whilst growing up but when you found out he was real and looked the way he did, hell, Wolverine was your sexual awakening. He was the first man to make you feel that tingle in your lower stomach. Yes, you may have been thirteen years old, a ball of puppy fat and social anxiety but you’d been waiting for him ever since. 
You’re snapped out of your reverie when Wade loses baby knife in Logan’s shoulder blade, finally you spring into action. In good time as well as you’re not sure if even Deadpool can survive decapitation.
In the singularly most stupid act of your life you throw yourself in front of your friend’s body. “Wait, Wait! Please!”  
Wade has paused behind you, you can feel him weighing up the situation, pausing for a moment to see what you’re going to pull out of the bag.
“The TVA they can fix it, whatever you did, whatever made you the worst Logan, they can fix it! – They have the power to end universes, but they also have the power to fix yours! Help us get back there and we can fix both of our worlds! I promise, they can fix it.” You plead, it’s not quite a lie exactly, more of an Educated Wish than anything.
Okay it is a lie, but you’re sure that the TVA can most likely, probably, maybe fix his world.
Logan’s eyes lock with yours in that moment you can see that he wants to kill you both and be done with it, but that hope won’t let him. You feel a smidgen of guilt for the deceit, but frankly you’ve done worse for less. Your world was on the line it wasn’t the time to pull your punches.
Fast forward four exhausting hours, two periods of unconsciousness and one flaying to find yourself sat opposite Wade gagging down cold spoonful’s of Spam in some dusty ass diner.
You were no better than a man as you watched the Wolverine.
Those arms, those thighs, the way he had beheaded Sabretooth without even breaking a fucking sweat. You wanted him to wrap those instruments of death he called hands around your throat and fuck you dirty until the sun came up.
It had been a long exhausting day and you had been soaking wet for most of it.
Shit, could he smell that? Does that count as sexual harassment? You’d have to ask Wade.
Logan, however, was utterly dismissive of your advances in the face of what was undoubtedly utterly horrific past trauma. Something you were trying to be understanding about, but self-pity in a man, it just turned you on. I said you had some surface layers of darkness.
Unable to help yourself you gaze at him as he opens a bottle of rubbing alcohol. You are utterly entranced, watching the thick chords in his throat bob as he takes a swig.
That tanned skin where his jaw ends and neck begins, slick with sweat and dirt. You’d love to sink your canines into the strip below his ear. He must feel your stare on him as he looks up and catches your eyes dark with lust already surveying his person.
It should embarrass you, that every time he peers your way, he catches you gaping at him like a lovesick puppy, but there’s something about Logan you can’t quite put your finger on. The man heats your blood like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, maybe it’s that torch you’ve carried for him since girlhood, maybe it’s the thick thighs you’d kill to ride – who can say for sure?
In what you assume is against his better judgement, he comes to perch on the booth beside you. His broad shoulders cast an imposing figure as he gets close enough that if you were to move your hand a couple of inches to the right, you’d finally be able to touch that yellow fabric that plagued your tween dreams.
You’re burning up at the thought of him, unable to stop yourself you part your legs slightly to ease some of the pressure. Logans nose twitches, his head swivels your way and his eyes catch your own.  
Welp - at least you have your answer about him smelling your arousal.
Deciding that you were most likely verging on sexual harassment charges you decided to focus back in on the task at hand, gagging once again at another spoonful of spam.
“Be a good girl and swallow, Y/N/N, you know the rules!” Wade jokes, your chortle was your only response. What could you say? He always hit your funny bone despite the ocean that was raging in your panties.
Logan stares at Wade for a long moment before turning to your way and addressing you for maybe only the fourth time today?
“What are you doing with this fucking clown? You his sidekick? Following him round to laugh at his stupid fucking jokes whilst he gets kids killed?”
“Why I have never.” Wade is faux outraged at his words, clutching his imaginary pearls as the Wolverine throws around accusations that aren’t entirely untrue.
The Wolverine’s expression remains stern as his eyes track your face. They seem to be evaluating your character and from the flare in his nose and crease in his brow you can guess he finds you lacking. You’re embarrassed to admit how much that deflates you, so you do what you do best; you deflect.
 “I could follow you around and laugh at your jokes instead, if you like?” When you speak your voice has a sultry edge to it and there’s no mistaking your intentions.
Logan seems to think on your proposition for a second or two, before he huffs grabs his rubbing alcohol and unopened can of Spam and heads over to sit at the bar.
“Holy hot ham and cheese on rye, Y/N, you fucking slut.” Wade berates you though his voice is as light as it’s always been as he boots your shin under the table. “Trying to your holes filled by Wolvie during a world saving mission, Marvel H Christ, stay on fucking task!”
You swear you hear Logan mutter a Jesus Christ from the bar.
Though as Wade continues irritating the hero hunched against bar, you can’t help the realisation that he didn’t say no.
“You’re uh… well regarded in our world.” Wade complements, being real doesn’t come easy to him. You appreciate the effort.
“Well, I’m not shit in mine.”
“I tried to join the X-Men because of you.” You speak up finally joining their conversation. Wolverine’s back goes rigid, but he doesn’t respond. You’re not sure if he’s waiting for you to continue or hoping you’ll stop. “You made a difference to this world, made me think I could do the same. I just never quite make the cut.”
Logan doesn’t seem to have a response.
It seems your words have an effect as you catch him watching you more often. When Wade makes his jokes, he looks to you for validation of his withering looks.
You’re probably more distracted by this revelation than you should be when the three of you come across a real nasty variant of Colossus seeking out Wade for… you want to say… revenge?
The not-so-gentle-anymore-giant flips the Honda and tosses both Wade and Logan through the treeline as they advance on him as if they were little more than toys his mother had asked him to pick up.
One by one your bullets ricochet from his metal skin as he comes towards you. You aren’t built for this fight; you are completely and utterly outmatched.
All you’re doing at this point is buying yourself some time for your backup to pull themselves from the rubble, however during a particularly spirited cartwheel the metal oaf finally gets his hands on you. Colossus’ metal palm is cold on your throat, and you could swear you hear your neck snapping before you feel it.  
With a gasp you return to life to find a slightly dishevelled Logan standing above you. By the grace of god, his sleeves have been worn away in the fight, his arms, oh sweet lord, his arms are on full display.
“Thought you were a goner.” He offers you a hand when you simply stare mutely his way. Locking your fingers around his wrist he pulls you to your feet. You don’t release your hold on him and neither does he.
“Don’t throw the party just yet, eh?” You joke weakly, for a second you could swear there’s a slight raise of the corner of his mouth, imperceptible, if you didn’t know what you were looking for. In the past few hours you had become an expert on Wolverine’s face.  
Your mouth is dry as you take in his thick sweat laden biceps.
“Where’s Wade?” You query whilst rolling your aching neck as you haven’t heard his voice in a record thirty seconds, Logan suddenly remembers himself and drops your hand.
“’fraid Metal man took your clown, was pissed with him and can’t say I blame the guy.”
“Shit.” You sigh rubbing your temples as you kneel to pick up the dismembered arm of your best friend. “Well – fuck. That’ll take him a few hours at least to grow back – He’ll be so sad about his suit.”
You peel the fabric from the limb and tuck it under the breast plate of your own suit. Wade will want his glove back when it grows back.
“He say where he was taking him?”
“Oh yeah, that along with his plan for world domination...” Logan huffs as if your mere presence annoys him.
“Thought you didn’t like sarcasm.”
“I like sarcasm just fine, Bub. It’s you I don’t like.” You can’t help but smile his way at the comment made at your expense, his brows crease. “You’re a strange one.”
“Can you do your sniffy thing?”  Its impressive, you thought he’d reached the limit with his scathing looks towards Wade, yet he somehow manages to pull a deeper frown out the vault especially for you.
“Sniffy thing?” His words are spoken with such derision, it turns you on a little. You realise that perhaps you are in fact a deeply troubled individual.
“Oh, sorry.” You pretend to clear a frog in your throat. “Please, oh, please, beautiful, handsome Wolverine, please can you locate my bestest pal with your heightened sense of smell?” His face doesn’t break despite your hands clasped in front of your chin.
“You’re just as fucking annoying as that moron.” He huffs “Get in the fucking car, we’ll follow his trail.”
“You can smell him from the car?”
“The blood, Jesus Fucking Christ, there’s a trail of blood.”
“Ah.” Is all you reply as you find your seat in the passenger side and start your own one on one team up with Wolverine. Its not exactly the way you imagined it, but beggars certainly can’t be choosers.
After a few moments of sullen silence, you decide that there’s no time like the present to form a long-lasting bond.
“What’s your world like?”
“None of your fucking business.”
“Okay... What’s the first thing you’re gonna’ do if they can save your world? I bet its something boring as fuck, like team-“
“What did you just say?”
“I bet you’re gonna do something boring like-“
“No before that.”
“What’s the first thing you’re gonna’ do if they save your world?” You question, his sudden interest in your words takes you by surprise as he has been vacant from your conversation.
The breaks suddenly shriek as the car comes to a stop.
“What do you mean if?”
“I…”
“You said they could fix my world. Undo it all, is what you fucking said.”
“I mean I think they can!”
“You fucking liar.” The edge to The Wolverine’s voice is terrifying. The realisation trickles down your spine, Logan has been nice to you all this time, you’re finally meeting The Wolverine.
“I didn’t lie!” For some reason you’re ashamed of your deceit, you’ve murdered countless people and still, you’ve felt less remorse. Logan’s eyes pin you in your seat as disgust clouds his face. It hurts more than you can fathom. “Not exactly, I think they can fix your world! – I needed your help and if you killed Wade there was no hope for my universe!”
“I don’t give a flying fuck about your universe!” He spits your way; his hands are gripping the wheel in what seems like an effort to keep his cool.
“I know, but I do!” You cry back at him. “You know how to save the world, you’re the fucking Wolverine! I know how to kill people, but this hero shit, this isn’t me!”
“Ha! No shit.” There is pure hate in the man’s eyes as he stares back at you.
“Please, you’re Logan. Whether you’re the worst one or not - You’re still better than me.”
“Get out of the fucking car.” The words come from between clenched teeth and are filled with warning.
“No – fuck you.”  Your rage breaks the banks to meet Logan’s. Perhaps it’s the guilt, maybe it’s the fear for Wade but something within you snaps at his constant bad temper. “It was an educated guess and a fucking reasonable one at that, get the fuck over yourself you big bird wannabe geriatric fucker! “
He slams his palms on the steering wheel, his nose flares and his teeth clamp together.  “Fuck me? Fuck you – you sad pathetic excuse for a side-kick. No wonder the X-Men wouldn’t take you, and they’ll take fuckin’ anyone. You are a ridiculous, immature, moron who spends her days following around a fucking clown to avoid facing the reality that you are no one. I have never met a sadder, more attention starved asshole in my entire life. You were right about one thing, you’re no fucking hero.”
Its shameful the way your stomach drops, and your eyes involuntarily begin to tear. To hear your hero say the words you’ve thought about yourself whilst laying awake at night. It’s a knife to the gut.
“Nothing to fucking say, huh, Angel?” The use of Wade’s nickname for you is like sandpaper on your skin, it rubs you the wrong fucking way.
“I am going to hurt you now.” Your voice is barely a broken whisper.
“You’re going to hurt – “His faux chortle is cut short by a swift punch to his face. You’re worried you may have been overzealous with your swing when his nose begins bleeding. The Wolverine is stunned for only a moment before he grabs the back of your neck and proceeds with smashing your face into the dashboard and those concerns are quickly put to bed.
The old fucker is strong, but you don’t think he’ll kill you, yet another educated wish.
“Not so tough now…” He shouts as the radio channels change with your skull. Pulling a knife from your leg strap you embed it in his thigh and pull the lever to recline your seat whilst he’s distracted, luckily, you’re not there when he swings for retribution.
Though one of his fucking steak knives catches your upper arm slicing through the leather. Warm blood trickles down your arm, staining the beige interior of the poor Honda. 
Your legs are your strongest asset, so when he attempts to restrain you with the seatbelt, you are presented with your window of opportunity. You wrap them around his neck as you pivot your hips slamming the Wolverine headfirst into the metal of the door. Once, twice, three times - on the fourth he lands a fist to your gut, luckily, he has retracted his claws.
If he was willing to kill you, you wouldn’t stand a chance.
You’re winded struggling to catch your breath from the gut punch, but you manage pull the knife from his thigh that is nestled between your legs and thrust it into his neck, you aim for the spot you’d fantasied about kissing before he’d torn your character apart piece by piece, now you just want to bathe in his fucking blood.
It was the pain that instantaneously made his claws extend. He’s quick to move them, though he slices through the sides of your suit as he buries them in the chair behind you. Your ribs are a bloodied mess though you don’t care, in a few hours they’ll be good as new.
Logan has seized the opportunity and has your arms pinned to your sides, his blood has cooled a little more than yours, he doesn’t seem to want to murder you over an argument.
Perhaps he’s more well-adjusted than yourself, that thought alone should concern you, except it just enrages you further.
“You stupid fuckin-“The Wolverine starts admonishing you, before you swing your head forward and headbutt him.
Yes.
You really do that.
You headbutt the man with the adamantium fucking skeleton– at full strength. Its sheer dumb luck you don’t crack your own skull in the process– maybe Logan was right, you are fucking dumb.
“Fucking fuck!” You cry grabbing your forehead and writhing. Noone wins with a headbutt, except Logan apparently.
“Fucking stop that.” Your writhing has pushed your core against his crotch, and he is already packing quite the heat at what feels like half-mast. He grabs your hips to stop your movement, but it only seems to push you closer. “Stop fucking moving.”
The constant arousal you’ve felt since meeting him returns in double time, Logan’s nostrils flare and his eyes darken. It’s debased and you’re ashamed that you want him, you haven’t stopped wanting him, despite the awful fucking words that left his mouth minutes ago.
“Like … a little pain Wolvie?”
Its relief you feel, you think, when instead of answering or punching you in the face, he closes the gap.
The Wolverine’s claws retract, and he grabs at your chin. Logan’s mouth utterly devours your own, your front tooth clashes with his own as you push yourself upwards, you pull your knife out of his neck, catching his grunt of pain on your tongue as you begin licking your way down his thick throat.
The vein you’d spotted hours ago is throbbing freshly healed, you sink your canines into the flesh and its as good as you’d fucking imagine. His groan is utterly beast-like as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him.
The Wolverine’s throat tastes like salt and iron. Thick, tangy and warm on your tongue as you soothe the bite. It drives Logan wild, thrusting his hardened member against your warmth. One of his gloved hands rises to lock on the back of your neck to pull you into yet another earth-shattering kiss.  His sharp hot tongue slides against your own, exploring the expanses of your mouth like its his to claim.
You bite at him again then, your teeth catching his bottom lip sharply.  Logan groans into your mouth before you use every ounce of your enhanced strength to throw him backwards against the dashboard.
He is taken utterly by surprise as his head slams into the windscreen cracking the glass with a grunt. When he looks your way Logan’s eyes are blackened with desire, he is utterly wild.
Slowly as if afraid to make any sudden moves, you unzip your combat boots, your eyes never leaving his. One boot and then the next.
You thank the TVA’s tailor for making your suit a two piece as you shuffle backwards into the backseat, pushing the thick leather down your legs all whilst maintaining eye contact with the beast leaning against the dashboard.
“You sure you want this Darlin’?”
“Darlin’?” You question mockingly, your voice lowering to imitate his own, as you wantonly spread your legs, your bare leg resting next to the headrest. Only a pair of black cotton panties separate him from your most intimate parts and his eyes are locked on your clothed core. “a second ago it was ‘Pathetic Moron’ to you.”
Your head tilts in question as his eyes lock back on your own, you think perhaps for a moment something akin to regret passes over his face, but you’ve never been entirely comfortable with feelings, so you drop your hand into the waistband of your panties, you’ve barely circled your opening with your pointer finger before he’s on you.
“That’s my job, you fucking Moron.” He plunges two bare thick fingers into your heat. Gasping you throw your head back against the headrest, it’s a tight fit and its been a while but the slight burn eases some of the aching in your core.  “You’re fuckin’ soaking wet, you like it huh, bub? Making me bleed?”
Your grab his jaw, your nails digging into his flesh. “I’d like to bathe in-” He scissors his fingers finding that spot inside you and you let out an embarrassing noise, somewhere between a gasp and a moan. “-Your fucking blood… you mean motherfucker.”
You’re an absolute goner when he starts rubbing your clit, after a day of foreplay your body seizes, and you grab at the nape of his neck trying to find something to anchor you down. But as fast as the build was you come tumbling down just as quickly, when he cruelly withdraws his hands.
“No! - Wha- what the fuck?!” You’re almost crying as your torn from the precipice.
Logan flips you over onto your stomach before you can complain any further, your face down on the filthy upholstery as he pulls your panties from your hips. You can’t see him from this angle, though you can feel his warm hands tracing the globes of your ass.
You force your knees further apart, pushing your bare soaking pussy against the tight bulge of his yellow suit. If you had enough of your facilities about you, you’d be embarrassed that you’re currently rubbing your cunt against The Wolverine like a bitch in heat after he’d chewed you out only minutes ago.
Logan’s hand dip between your thighs, his fingers swirl along your hole, dragging your wetness along to your aching clit.
“You think I’d make it that easy?” He asks as he continues the journey back and forth. On the second pass he dips his finger inside of you for a fraction of a second before resuming its path. “What do you want, darlin’?”
You weren’t going to beg, in fact you bit your tongue to stop the traitorous words from forming, this man had already made you abandon most of your self-respect, he wasn’t having this.
“Logan…” At your breathy words the man leans forward, pressing his fabric covered cock into your ass as he folds his body over yours. One hand comes down next to your shoulder, the other explore your tits as he rocks himself into your throbbing core. It’s the perfect storm as he nuzzles into your exposed throat but somehow you manage your words. “Fuck me or don’t, I’m not begging, bub.”
He exhales through his nose in what you guess is equal parts amusement and annoyance, but you’re far beyond caring. He places a bite on the spot where your throat meets your shoulder as his body pulls back. Momentarily his hands leave your hips to deal with his own pants. You hear the clank of his belt hitting the car floor moments before you feel the head of his cock, running along your folds.
The head of his cock is thick, and it feels hot to the touch as he runs it along your slick. All of a sudden Logan pushes forward and sheathes himself inside of you with a single thrust.
You try your best to hold in your incoherent moans but to little avail as he pulls back before slamming full force back into you. If you were a human woman, your pelvis would’ve shattered from the force of his hips against your ass, instead you gather your strength and push back, allowing him deeper. The both of you moan in unison at the depth he reaches.
You grab onto the foam of the seat, ripping through the fabric with your bare hands desperate for an anchor as Logan unforgivingly pounds into you from behind, once again he folds his body over yours, wrapping a palm around your clawed fingers.
“.” He grunts something incoherent into your ear as he picks up the pace, slamming into you repeatedly, slowly picking up his pace. Your core is positively aching as you throb around him, pulling him deeper within you.  If you were expecting any further explanation, you’re sorely disappointed.
The wolverine pulls back, gripping at your hips keeping you still as he resumes his powerful strokes.  Logan’s hand dips to your clit, rubbing quick circles sending you barrelling back towards your orgasm. As you begin to clench around him, he pulls your body upwards, his head brushing against the top of the car as he holds you against him his fingers never leaving your clit.
“Come on my cock, Angel.” Unable to stop yourself you clench around him, hearing him talk like that does something primal to you.
You fucking loved Logan’s mouth, you bet he ate pussy like a champion if he played the clit this fucking well.
You stopped fighting it and threw yourself from the cliff, shattering in his thick muscle veined arms as he held you up against him, his cock still viciously plundering your depths.
“You’re so fucking tight.” He whispers against your neck whispers peppering it with bites.
Logan gives you a few moments to come down from your high before he resumes his punishing pace, you think perhaps you’ve reached your limit of pleasure, that the threshold can’t possibly be topped until he whispers into your ear in that gruff voice.
“What was it Wilson said? Filling all your holes?” The Wolverine asks, his eyes meet yours over your shoulder meaningfully, asking permission as he offers you his thumb. You merely moan your approval and wantonly draw his finger into your mouth, soaking the pad in saliva.  
Logan yanks your head into a vicious kiss. It’s a messy one, filled to the brim with need. The hand not currently locked on your neck holding your face to his, travels down your back, through the valley of your bodies. The pad of his pinky runs appreciatively over the globe of your ass, before his hand dips into the crease.
Logan’s thumb runs teasingly against the tight ring of muscle, it’s a foreign experience which makes you startle slightly.
“Anyone ever fucked you here?” He asks as he bites down your neck, delicately pushing you forward until your head rests on the backseat. You shake your head as your eyes close, his cock is buried balls deep within you as he plays with your asshole.
When his thumb finally breaches your tight hole just past the nail, he begins his thrusts once more. His cock fills your pussy from behind and suddenly you feel so fucking full, Its far too much for you.
“Fuck… Logan.” You gasp almost on the verge of tears as pounds you into the back seat. It seems the ass play has gotten to him more than expected, as his pace has increases.
“Where?” He asks breathless from the exertion as he pulls his thumbs from your ass and takes a handful of the meat on your hips.
“Inside…. Please … Logan.” You practically beg though you’ll never admit it, his rhythm becomes stunted as his hips slam into the back of your thighs.
“Give me something tight to come in, Darlin’.” Moaning at his words you’re eager to obey as you reach your hand between your own legs and rub mercilessly at your clit. The unforgiving pounding, the grunting and the fingers currently bruising your hips and the burning of your now vacant ass send you sailing over the edge.
You clamp down on him like a vice, groaning unable to hold back your whimpers anymore as he finally bites your neck and pumps his seed deep inside you as far as it can go. Logan grunts like a beast as he pulses deep inside of you.
Logan collapses beside you. Dents in the interior of the van you don’t even remember making have appeared from where a stray elbow or knee has hit the metal in the throes of passion.
The Wolverine tucks his cock back in his suit. Ever the gentleman, he uses your black panties to wipe away the cum dripping from your thighs, you haven’t got the heart to tell him that when you’re commando redressed in your suit that you can still feel him dripping from you, your pussy uncomfortably slick against the leather.
After dressing, the two of you sit in contemplative silence. Neither one of you has the emotional complexity to discuss what happened and neither one of you will accept fault for your argument that led to it, so, silence reigns.
The tension is sliced in two as Logan leans forward and pushes an errant lock of hair behind your ear in an act so goddamn endearing, you melt. You still wouldn’t apologise for lying, because you didn’t lie but you can meet him a quarter of the way.
“I’m sorry for calling you geriatric.” You whisper catching his eyes, a small spark of humour leaps into them, you’ve seen more emotions from your hero in the past half an hour than you knew he was capable of.
“I shouldn’t have-“ Logan’s heartfelt apology is cut off by the lead of this goddamn story.
“Well, well, well.  Would you look at this, My best friends, Ha! I get fucking kidnapped, an arm ripped off and you’re nowhere to be found? I thought don’t worry Wade, they won’t leave you, Y/N/N will come around that corner any second."
Wade has appeared through the passenger side window; he looks a little worse for wear and has a child’s arm growing from his stump, its kind of gross to look at.
"What if Colossus had had his way with me? What then Y/N? I expect this from Wolvie, but not from you! No, no heroic rescue for old Deadpool. I have to save myself because you fuckers are too busy playing hide the adamantium bone!  Thanks for nothing guys. Now the car has old man sex stank to it, as if this hunk of shit Honda could get any worse!”
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neo-nomatrix · 6 months ago
Text
EAT IT UP !
HOW THE JJK MEN EAT P*$$Y
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Multiple x reader
-> GOJO, NANAMI, TOJI, GETO, SUKUNA, CHOSO
warnings ⚠️ smut… duh. pussy eating… duh. 69 in getos. talks of bondage. talks of choking (on dick) overalll smut idk
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GOJO SATORU AKA “kid in a candy store”
On his tummy, feet in the air, humming. His legs are swaying back and forth but you’re way too busy to notice. He’s looking up at you with those unmistakable eyes watching you fall apart on his skilled tongue. His hand use your thighs as handles and makes out with your sloppy, cute cunt. He’s trying to tease you but the words come out as gurgled mumbles since his mouth is basically superglued to you.
You’re throbbing on his lips and he slurps it up like honey. Sometimes he dips his fingers in but usually sticks with his mouth. Fucks his tongue inside of you and he’ll probably start gagging because of how far he gets. He has to hug your thighs when you cum because of how squirmy you get. Nips at your clit when it’s all sensitive and giggles.
“You’re so fucking cute squirming”
“Oh wow… feels that good huh?”
“Is this how it feels when you gag on my cock?”
NANAMI KENTO AKA “use me like a chair”
Wants all your weight on his face or else he’s not happy. And no- it’s not an option. Maybe you’ll suffocate him, but who’s to say that’s not the goal? He cups his hands around your thighs and pulls you down on him, immediately getting to work. He’s so sensual and romantic about it. Slowly licking from your entrance to your clit. Definitely kisses your clit before starting anything.
Gathers a whole bunch of spit before and globs it onto you. There should literally be bubbles when you get off of him. Tries his best not to snake his hand down his pants so he can focus on you. As much as he loves you grinding down on his face he always stops you. This is for him to do all he work, he should be making you feel so good you don’t need to think about grinding down.
“Let me do all the work, just sit there.”
“I know i’m hard, sweetheart. I’ll get to that later.”
“Stop hovering, do i need to tie you up?”
TOJI FUSHIGURO AKA “this is for him”
Even though it’s an activity meant to pleasure you, it’s for him. For him to melt away his worries into your sweet cunt. He uses it as a stress reliever, massaging your ass like a stress ball. will literally ask you why you were squirming so much, it disturbed his peace.
Never stops after you come. More flavor for him. Has you on your tummy, he’s spreading you apart and eating it. His hands are never still. Always running up and down your back or playing with the skin of your ass. Moves up to grope your tits and play with your sweet nipples.
“Put your face into the pillow and bite if it’s to much”
“You take my cock every day but my mouth is too much?” oh wait, that’s also too much
“Maybe i should leave some marks on this ass too.”
GETO SUGURU AKA “34 + 35”
SixtyNine KING. Can’t decide between being on bottom or top. On bottom he can get the pleasure of you sitting on his face. The only downside is your squirming with so much pleasure that you forget to suck his cock. He doesn’t care that much, eating you out is plenty of pleasure, but it would be nice. But he does hate it when your strokes get sloppy and they become borderline teasing.
On top he gets the added bonus of fucking your face. Thrusting in and out of your moaning mouth as much as he pleases. He loves hearing you choke while slurping you up. He just doesn’t like the blood going to his head while eating you out. He’s pretty simple when it comes to pussy eating. Loves to suck on your clit and use his fingers. Definitely makes you lick your own cum from his fingers. Finger fucks you until his hands are pruned.
“C’mon baby, at least stroke me baby. Look how hard he is for you.”
“I know it’s so much, huh?
“That’s fine, i’ll just throat fuck you with my cum soaked fingers,”
RYOMEN SUKUNA AKA “stop running”
Eats you out until you’re rolling around on the floor. And still keeps going. He hates it when you squirm, but also doesn’t do anything to stop it. Locks his arms around your thighs and presses a hand against your tummy. Sloppily eats your cunt with no technique. Spits soo much on it. The noises that come from your cunt and his mouth are insane. Dips his tongue real deep into your mess to get every drop.
Has you on the verge of passing out when you cum. And you guessed it, still won’t stop. He definitely pushes your thighs to your chest and wraps his arms around your whole body to keep you still. Loves it when you push on his head in desperation. It makes him so much harder.
“You keep fucking running and I’ll go for longer.”
“You’re only making it worse for yourself by squirming.”
“Fucking take it or I’ll make you.” yeah he definitely makes you
CHOSO KAMO AKA “kitten licks”
He eats you out like he’s scared. He’s so fascinated by your slippery pussy that he unintentionally goes super slow. Giving soft kisses to your clit and licking at your entrance like a popsicle. You have to tell him to go a little harder so it feels better. and once he does, no going back.
Starts to eat it like a starved man. He gets so mad he’s never done this before because he’s in heaven. Ruts his cock into the sheets because it feels so amazing. Moaning like a slut into your pussy. So much spit and his tongue is going wild on your pussy. He’s definitely making this apart of your routine.
“Oh my god it’s so wet baby.”
“Faster? but when i go faster with my cock you cry…”
“It feels good right, baby? Am I doing good?”
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simonbrain · 18 days ago
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getting the biggest, scariest bastard at the pub in your bed must have been one of your greatest achievements, especially after watching the way he turned down a few girls prior to you.
he glanced at you each time, disregarding the way the poor things scuttled off in embarrassment; their confidence dampened. it's like he was preening under your attention, and even underneath that silly balaclava of his, you picked up on the way he seemed to flush. his shoulders became more square, and his chest seemed to puff out more. the air around him became more charged with his cockiness rather than the pointless attempts at hiding himself from the other patrons. surely he's aware that he's the centre of the room, no matter which one.
he only grew more bold until he was right at your side, and you held his gaze the entire time.
now, he rewards you with the greatest dicking-down of your life, his fat cock stretching you impossibly thin, the thick girth bullying its way into you over and over again. he fucks you like a man starved, touches you as if he's trying to sink his hands beneath your soft skin and stroke your bones.
although nothing could have prepared you for how fucking filthy his mouth is. his voice holds the right amount of grittiness, the kind that makes your eyes roll back as he whispers the nastiest things in your ear, his accent adding to the thrill his words send down your spine. each moan that fell from his mouth, each promise of ruining you for anyone else after him, each pet name he called you had you going brainless on his cock, your sensitive bundle of nerves twitching under the pads of his fingers as he follows through with his promise. maybe if you were any more lucid, you might have realised it sounded more like a threat rather than just plain dirty talk.
the next morning, you woke up to an aching body, a bottle of water and a box of tylenol on your bedside table, and no stranger in your bed. this may be the greatest one-night stand you've ever had.
well, it was until you realised a couple of weeks later that you're still getting off to the image of him blanketing you and that damn voice of his purring low in your ear. your fingers circle your clit, your eyes unfocused as you imagine him on top of you, taking you deep right where he belongs, and when you think about how he growled at you to soak his cock like a good girl, you come all over your fingers with a humiliatingly loud whine.
it only gets worse from there. you can no longer come to porn unless the person in the video resembles the big boy who rearranged your guts, and even that is a feat of its own. you can't find anyone who has similar tattoos, similar scars, or even a similar voice. reading smut can only get you so far, and some nights, you go to bed feeling defeated because you just couldn't orgasm.
you get so desperate you start searching for those dirty little audios people post online, and for a while, you manage to make yourself come (maybe not as hard, but at this point, you'll take anything). the voices that rumble through your headphones aren't as husky as your mystery man, and their accents aren't exactly close to his, but it holds you off... until it doesn't. and now you're desperate to find him again, but he's probably long gone now.
you can't believe it; the fucker really did ruin you.
it's not until a few months later that you hear that familiar voice again, and your knees almost give out in the middle of the damn store.
(they actually do when simon, he tells you through hungry kisses, bends you in half in the dreadful alleyway, your poor cunt taking each brutal fill of that cock you've been craving so badly.
"she's fuckin' squeezin' me, sweet'art. missed me tha' much?" he chuckles hoarsely in your ear, and you would have fallen over if not for his firm hold keeping you upright.
yep, he can fuck right off again. you'll get your lick back. just as soon as your legs stop shaking and you're not seeing double.)
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rafey-baby · 18 days ago
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older!rafe can’t always be mean to his delicate flower, can he?
18+ mdni!
c/w: fluff with a little bit of angst in the beginning, older!rafe feeding sensitive!reader pasta & being v suggestive, slight subspace, smut: oral (f receiving), overstimulation & use of daddy
wc: 2k
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Sock-covered feet pad along the hardwood floors when she finally hears the lock of the front door turning. Rafe’s home later than usual— a fact she’s entirely too aware of since she’s been impatiently waiting for him to return ever since he left her this morning without so much as a goodbye.  
Usually, she’d stir awake to him smearing kisses all over her face and mumbling sweetened words about how much he’s going to miss her during his meetings— sometimes even wake her up with his cock prodding at her entrance before fucking her all sleepy and sloppy until she’s a sobbing mess.  
However, she assumes he was still mad at her because she forgot to let him know she was going out for drinks after her lecture before her battery had died. Therefore, she hadn’t received his several calls or the texts filled with concern and only a few hours later, did she remember that she’d never actually sent the message regarding her whereabouts. 
When he came to pick her up after she’d borrowed her friend’s phone in order to reach him, he was clearly displeased; merely muttering out a “ask you to do one thing and you can’t even do that. You know how fuckin’ worried I was?” and crudely telling her to go sleep in the guest room because “daddy doesn’t feel like dealing with your shit tonight”, which had resulted in wet droplets surfacing to her waterline while she kept apologizing over and over again, but to no avail.  
In the morning, she’d woken up to a tear-stained pillowcase and a headache. And when she tiptoed over to the bathroom, she realized that the entire house was desolate; he hadn’t even left a note.  
Therefore, she’s not exactly sure how to approach him, hesitant in her movements before she sees him in front of her in all his glory.  
“Hi,” her voice is quiet, but her forlorn face lights up nonetheless.
Rafe is in the process of mindlessly kicking off his shoes when he looks up; a tired smile tugging at his lips when she practically tumbles into his arms in a greeting. 
“Missed you,” she mumbles against his crisp button up when he rests his big hands on her hips in an attempt to steady her.  
“Missed you too,” he murmurs into her hair. “Got you something,” he reluctantly pulls away in order to present her with a bouquet of pink lilies; her favorites. 
“What’s this for?” her moony eyes stare up at him in bewilderment. 
“Drove past a flower shop…guess they made me think of you,” he admits, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek; confusing her to no end. 
“But I thought—” she utters out, hesitant to take the flowers she feels unworthy of.  
“That I was mad at you?”  
She nods, looking up at him with guilt swimming in her eyes. 
He lets out a sigh. 
“Listen, I was, uh, maybe a little too harsh on you last night, okay? I know how forgetful you can be. Was just worried when you weren’t home and didn’t answer your phone until hours later. Thought something happened, you know?” he explains with a calmness that placates her racing mind as she accepts his gift.  
“I know, I’m sorry. Won’t happen again, promise. Texted you today the second I was home, right?”  
“You did,” he confirms as he peels off his suit jacket before sniffing the air. “Smells good, what’re you making?”  
“Oh, I made you dinner,” she says bashfully, almost as if waiting for his approval. 
“You did? All by yourself?” his brows climb his forehead in surprise.  
She nods, a soft smile on her lips before he’s ushering her towards the kitchen and plucking a glass vase from the top shelf for her.
Usually, he’s the one cooking for them since she’s not greatest in the kitchen, always so tired after studying the whole day, she’d probably forget the stove on and cause some sort of a fire due to her absentminded nature. Therefore, he prefers to prepare his girl a nurturing meal whenever he doesn’t have to work late.  
“How was uni today?” he asks as she sets the now flower-filled vase on their dining table. 
“A lot. Was kinda stressed the whole day cause I have so much homework and reading to do, don’t know how I’m supposed to have time for all of it. And then have this group project and the deadline for this essay approaching and…I don’t think my brain works anymore,” she sighs out when she peers down at the steaming bowl of spaghetti Bolognese he places on the counter.  
“Good thing you don’t need to worry that head of yours over anything with me. Let daddy do the thinking for you, yeah?” Rafe’s voice is as smooth as honey, causing her to blink up at him— something cottony dusting over her mind in response to his sugary cadence.  
Strong arms lift her up and place her on the marble countertop before he settles right between her thighs, like a puzzle piece she’s been missing the entire day; tall frame hovering over her even as she’s practically perched on a pedestal.  
Then, he’s picking up the plate in the most casual manner and contently shoving a forkful of pasta into his mouth before groaning in satisfaction.  
“Shit, this is amazing,” he praises around the mouthful.  
She mumbles out a flustered thank you, her thoughts all over the place since she thought he’d still be mad, but then suddenly he’s not. In fact, he’s seemingly in a great mood.  
“Did you eat yet?” 
“No, was, um…waiting for you. Didn’t wanna eat alone,” her volume is nearly inaudible.
He stops chewing.  
“Waiting for me, huh?” he rasps out before he’s lifting the fork closer to her mouth.  
She looks up at him, puzzled.  
“Open,” he orders and she has no choice but to obey— let him feed her because truthfully, whenever she’s around him she gets a little dumb; can’t really focus on anything except his low drawl and gemstone eyes.  
“Good, right?” 
She hums her agreement around the bite, barely registering that some of the tomato sauce stains her chin in the process.  
“Always so messy, huh?” he tuts disapprovingly, even if he’s the one holding the fork.  
However, before her mushy brain has the time to even comprehend what he’s doing, he’s laving the flat of his tongue under her mouth; cleaning it up for her.  
“There we go,” he murmurs as he rubs a thumb over the spot for good measure.  
She swallows.  
“Want some water?” he asks and she nods, all of a sudden unable to utter out words.
Then, he’s tipping a glass of ice-cold water to her lips, carefully watching her gulp down the liquid before he decides she’s had enough— withdrawing the cup in order to drink some of it himself.   
He continues feeding her every other bite and making casual conversation, all the while she feels herself softly slipping into a very specific headspace. And before she realizes, he’s placing the empty dish in the sink with a slight clatter; their bellies full and happy.   
She doesn’t think she wants to eat by herself ever again. 
Then, her foggy mind registers him in front of her again as he pulls her closer— warm palms slipping under her top and his thumbs idly smoothing over her tummy while she quietly stares at him with hearts for eyes.
“You put this tiny thing on just for me, hm?” he questions as his eyes drop down to her cleavage; the pale pink lace doing a very poor job of concealing what’s underneath since she’s forgone a bra (and pants), as she usually does whenever she’s merely loitering around their home. 
“Look so pretty in this,” his dreamy voice rumbles as he swipes a thumb over a covered nipple, causing her to let out a faint gasp at the sudden contact. 
“Ray…” she hums out while he keeps rubbing over the squishy part of her body he knows gets her buzzing.
“Hm? You feelin’ floaty already?” he asks with a gentle cadence. And she’s not sure how he always seems to know just the right words to say in order to turn her into clay.  
“Yeah, missed you so much,” her hazy eyes flicker over his face while he simply gazes at her, before he’s smearing his mouth on hers.  
There’s something hungry, primal in the way he groans against her lips— causing a whimper to escape her throat in response. 
Then, all of a sudden, he’s lifting her over his shoulder as if she weighs nothing more than a single paperclip; making her squeak out a sound of surprise when he jokingly smacks her ass while walking out of the room before throwing her on the bed.  
“Let daddy say hi to his favorite girl, yeah?” he coaxes her before he’s prying her thighs apart and nuzzling his face into her cunt through the material of her panties; nose bumping against her clit, making her shift closer to him.
“Missed my pussy so much, you know? Wanted to fuck you nice ’n slow last night but you never came home.”  
“I’m sorry, daddy,” she can’t help but whimper out when his warm tongue licks over the already dampening fabric of her underwear.  
“Yeah? You gon’ make it up to me? Let me eat you ’till I forgive you?” 
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you want,” she blabbers, a whine leaving her vocal cords when he plucks the soaked through material to the side and blows on her sensitive cunt.  
“Shit, you’re so wet already,” he says in awe, letting spit drip down his tongue and onto her folds anyway. Then, he’s wrapping his lips around her clit, making her cry out because she can already feel her orgasm lingering underneath the surface. 
“Need to come, can I? Please m’gonna— ” she says, almost in a trance; already so wound up. And the way he’s practically torturing her achy button with his mouth isn’t really helping. 
After he’s hummed his agreement, she’s not able to hold it in any longer— his tongue poking at her opening when the knot in her belly unfolds. She’s shaking, thighs yearning to close, if not for his strong arms holding them open as he groans around her, seemingly lost in a daze with her taste and smell practically suffocating him.
Since he knows how insatiable she tends to be, he refuses to pull away from between her thighs. And two more orgasms later, she’s a whimpering muddle; desperately trying to drag her hips away from his unrelenting hold. However, he’s entirely too strong and she doesn’t stand a chance.
“Ray, s’too much, need a break—” she complains, eyes beginning to turn watery in response to the overwhelming pressure.
However, despite her protests, he doesn’t stop. Instead, he begins to mess with her entirely too sensitive clit with his fingers now— pressing and pulling and making her whine as tears trickle down her cheeks and she tries to fruitlessly wiggle away from him once more.   
“Nah, you’re good. You forgot daddy does the thinking for you now, hm? And he wants you to give him a few more, think you can do that?” he mumbles against her sticky folds, stuffing the tip of his tongue into her weepy hole as an effort to persuade her.
“I don’t know if I can—” 
“Shh, jus’ wanna make you feel nice, you don’t want me to?” he feigns hurt when he lifts up his head, beginning to mouth over the soft skin of her inner thighs to pacify her; his slight stubble tickling her in the process and making her twitch.
“No, I do, I do…”  
“Then quit whinin’ and let me take care of you, hm? Show you how much I love you,” he coaxes her to give in. And when he puts it like that, she thinks it does sound rather romantic…
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