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#(Hi!! Super excited to write with you!! ^w^)
crownshattered · 7 months
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@fiendrites~
This man perplexed her. A lot of his strange features could be nothing, such as his pale skin and red eyes, but she could see that his teeth were a bit sharper than those of a normal high elf... And, of course, the scars on his neck. If it were any other situation, she would be certain he was a vampire. But Faenethra met him in broad daylight. That was extremely strong evidence against any vampirism.
Well, the worst thing he has done to her so far was attempt to hold a knife to her throat. If he was a vampire, he wasn't trying to hurt anyone. Faenethra figured that was enough for her to trust him, at least somewhat. It was more than what most people would give a drow like her.
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"What do you make of this grove?" Faenethra asked him, glancing at the man from beneath her dark hood. She wasn't usually one for conversation, but it seemed like she would be stuck with these people for a while... She figured she might as well talk to them.
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revengesworn · 1 year
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Hanma Shuji.
Anyone can see how suspicious he is. The man who took command of Valhalla, orchestrating the attack on Draken in an attempt to tear Toman apart... Mikey knows that none of his friends understand why he let a person like that into the gang.
He can’t blame them for that. Even he doesn’t really understand, himself. The one thing he knows... is that strength isn’t enough. No matter how much he tries to protect them - everyone, the people important to him, his family - his strength alone isn’t nearly enough to keep them safe. So, people like Hanma...
( ...are necessary? is that really what he thinks? or is that nothing more than another weak excuse? )
“Hanma.” Mikey greets him with a serious tone, his expression blank and difficult to read. ...He knows he doesn’t have any right to judge him. No matter how much Mikey may hate Hanma for what he’s done- hasn’t Mikey thought about doing so much worse?
Or is this emptiness, this lack of emotion he feels towards him - is it just another way that Mikey is broken?
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“I’ll be counting on you from now on. ...Toman needs your strength - that’s why I accepted you as a part of it. ...You understand what that means, right?”
@deathfavor​ ( starter for hanma! )
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naurtos · 2 years
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Deidara for the character bingo!!🧍🏻💥
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getting this ask made me click my heels with joy
deidara is a top 3 fav of mine (rotating between kabuto and madara) and I get him because I went art school for two years
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xbadnews-a · 1 year
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"All of the fire I've swallowed, all of the sparks that went dark in my gut, " he's on a tangent, dipping into his thoughts & presenting what passes. it's a rare sight to see, but percy seems intent. maybe he wants to be understood, maybe he just needs to be heard. so he continues, "I am always burning up. "
take me to war || @firemourn
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loguine-linguine · 4 months
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Ok hear me out!!!
Steve is a musician who sings pop music and posts on TikTok. He’s kind of a C-ish list celebrity (definitely a bit of a nepo baby) and his music is poppy and catchy. It’s the kinda stuff that you can immediately tell is coming from someone who is actively holding things back/ isn’t writing from any truth. Mall music at its purest form. Then one day with no announcement Steve drops a double sided album that is like GOOD GOOD pop music. It’s also noted very quickly that the pronouns in all the songs have definitely switched to he/him. People freak out and he starts charting for the first time in his career. Kinda Chappell Roan-esque situation where he skyrockets to being a queer pop icon very very quickly.
He starts doing interviews. He shows up to these interviews in outfits aren’t dramatically changed from what he usually wore (polos, jeans, bomber jackets, 80s jock vibes) but it’s all just much more camp. The cropped shirts are shorter, the jeans are tighter, and the colors are all suddenly pastel. He has also started wearing makeup (not heavy makeup but it’s definitely a lipgloss, eyeliner, mascara, highlight/blush on the tip of his nose type situation). He shares that he dropped his old producer (who he had been set up with by his father) and that he’s now working with his best friend Robin. He comes out as gay, talks about his struggle with comp-het, and proudly shares that he is super excited to contribute to the growing movement of music that is being written by queer people, for queer people. His TikTok also blows up.
This is when Tommy Hagan first starts showing up. Tommy is an actor who is pretty well known for doing teen drama TV shows (like Riverdale type deals). He introduces himself to Steve at some sort of industry event right after Steve gets big and pretty quickly starts showing up in his TikTok videos. It comes out that the two are dating pretty quickly after that. They date off and on for about a year and a half. Tommy is a shitty enough boyfriend that even Steve’s fans don’t like him. He stands him up for dates, embarrasses him at events, says rude and dismissive things about his music, etc. Robin (who is also kinda famous by proxy/writes her own music now similar to Billie Eilish and Finneas) absolutely hates his guts. Publicly. They finally break up officially after Tommy cheats on Steve with an actress named Carol who is on a show with him. It gets exposed by the tabloids and Steve finds out by seeing a photo of them making out on one of those celebrity drama TikTok accounts.
Eddie is also getting famous around this same time. He’s the lead for Corroded Coffin and also starts acting occasionally in horror films. He doesn’t really pay much attention to other celebrities or the drama that goes on. He was never into that kind of thing before the band took off so he doesn’t see why he should now. Eddie and the rest of the band are at an awards show of some sort and the others make fun of him the whole time. He can’t stop staring at this absolutely beautiful man sitting at a table near them. “The guy is wearing a slutty little lace shirt, the tightest pants in existence, and has skin that looks like honey and caramel had a child Gareth you really can’t blame me honestly.” Steve and Eddie don’t officially meet until the after party where they immediately hit it off.
A few months later Steve announces a new album and releases a single. It’s just Please Please Please by Sabrina Carpenter but gay and clearly about Tommy.
The music video comes out and people loose their minds. It’s the same sort of video as what Sabrina Carpenter just released for Please Please Please with the stunning outfits and the whole bad boy thing. Steve spends the whole video in dresses and skirts. There’s even a corset at one point. The bigger freak out is the fact that the Barry Keoghan equivalent is Eddie and its a hard launch of their relationship that fans had absolutely zero clue was even a possibility because why would horror/metal man Eddie Munson even know Steve Harrington???? Robin and the Corroded Coffin guys think the whole thing is hilarious. Eddie and Steve are so so happy :)
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qtboni · 1 year
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New to leaving requests but Simon with a s/o who's new to using toys in bed and is super shy about trying them out
i hope this is okay 4u anon !! so sorry this took soo long for me to write :'( emphasis on long , have this almost 2k words smut cz we're freaky like that ☝️😻
╰﹒ 𝐒𝐇𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 !
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PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader
OVERVIEW: Simon encourages and guides you on what he wants to do to you ;)
C/W: MDNI. smut w/ fluff + dom!simon riley, sub!f.reader, petnames (love, baby, sweets, good girl, pretty girl), use of toys (vibrator), teasing, kinda rough sex, praises, clit stimulation, semi-fingering, orgasm denial, semi-overstimulation, aftercare
W/C: 1.7K
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"What?" you incredulously questioned.
"Just like this, love."
You watch Simon grab ahold of the vibrator again and clicked it on.
"You want that thing to stick.. inside my..." You anxiously stared at the material in his large veiny hands. It wouldn't fit inside you. Like at all. It was too protruding and you feel like it would hurt you if you did put it in. You shivered as your thought rummaged on.
"Simon..." you started, shyly looking at him through your lashes. "Um, I don't know about that.. whole thing inside me."
He kneels in front of your sprawled form on the bed. The vibrator still sits in his hands, unmoving. You watch as his expression turns to genuine confusion. He tilts his head, thinking about your words. Then he laughs.
"No, baby..." He cooes at you and leaned in closer to you. "Just goin' to lay it on top of... here, hm?"
You felt your body heat up when his hands softly carressed your things, fingers dangerously close to your core.
"My thighs?" You whispered, your breath turning heavy.
"I could," Simon smirks as he feels you trying to not move too much when his fingers now teasing alongside of your inner thighs. "But where's the fun in that, sweets?"
Your eyebrows furrowed as you hummed in confusion.
"Just relax, baby," He replied as he now moved even closer to your body. You abruptly squealed as he grab ahold of your legs and pulled them to lay beside on each of his hips, still kneeling down. "Let me take care of you, hm?"
You felt his lips peppering soft loving kisses on your thighs and he got you nodding, breathless.
"Atta girl," He leaned back and you wanted to whine from the lost of contact when he swayed back again, the vibrator back in his big palms. You didn't even notice when he placed it back at the space behind him. "Y'know our color rules, baby, right?"
Simon watches you slowly nodding your head again.
"Alright," He continued, his thumbs now stroking circles on to your hips. "Tell me, pretty girl."
"Red, yellow, and green," You shyly replied as you try to regulate your breathing. You clenched your hands on to the velvety sheets.
"What a good girl you are," He hums in delight, satisfied with your answer. "Ready, baby?"
You breathily replied a yes to him as you bite your lip. You feel the hot tingles start to spread throughout your body and you haven't even gotten it to it. Yet.
Shit.
You tensed up when Simon pressed the tip of the vibrator in your folds. You meekly squirmed and felt a whimper coming out of your lips when he slid the vibrator up to your clit.
Simon watches you closely, and when you look up at him, he smiles softly, eyes ever so soft for you. You blushed and squirmed from his touch.
"Si..." You whined.
"Relax, baby." He mumbles softly, as his finger gently rubs your thigh. "'S not even on yet, hm?"
You take a deep breath and try to calm down. Just breathe. You close your eyes and lean back on the bed, giving in to Simon's touch.
The moment he clicks the vibrator on against your sensitive clit, a wave of pleasure immediately washes over you. You squirm from embarrassment, but Simon doesn't seem bothered by it.
"I'll be gentle, love." You hear Simon gently say but the pleasure you felt right now was almost blocking your hearing senses.
The vibrating sensation sends a jolt of pleasure and excitement through you. You let out a sweet moan as he continues to press the toy gently on to your clit.
"Please," You plead at him. Your hands unconsciously went up to his hand. To what exactly? You don't know. To stop? Definitely not. Simon must've had sensed your neediness when he grabbed your hand with his free hand, intertwining your fingers together.
"Right here with ya, love," Simon smiles at your action and kissed the back of your palms. He leaned back and continued presssing down the vibrator on your sensitive spot.
You mewled and moaned for him, bubbling away. You feel him lightly running the toy from side to side over your bundle of nerves, causing your hips to squirm if not for your intertwined hands holding your right hip down.
It's when Simon slowed down the vibration when he sees your slick spilling out of your hole, flowing down and soaking the sheets.
"Fuck, baby," He drawls out the vibrator as he prepares himself to do what's next.
You raised your head to look at him through your half-lidded eyes, panting heavily. You were about to call out for him to ask why'd he stop when you felt his finger move down to dip beneath your folds.
You cried out as he started lathering up your wetness and rubbed at your already puffy clit. And fuck, did you scream in pleasure when he put the vibrator back so suddenly again on to your cunt. This time, the vibrator you felt was somehow faster. It was so good. Your hips stuttered as you felt your orgasm building up.
Simon thought that you were trying to squirm away, so he grips your hips with his other hand, holding you in place, pulling the vibrator away from you, as well as your awaiting orgasm. "Color?"
"Green..." You whined and raised your hips up out of neediness. You began to dumbly blabber to him with pleases and how he was so mean to you depriving you of your pleasure.
That irked him, but in the good way as possible. As long as you were okay in this whole scene, then fine.
He was just concerned for you is all.
You sobbed out loud as you suddenly felt the familiar vibrating hum on to your sweet spot again.
But that doesn't mean you can insult him, do you, pretty girl?
Your legs shook violently to the deep vibrations. You’re already drooling all over yourself as your mind fogs up. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You can feel yourself reaching that sweet orgasm already.
Simon saw the way your body quivered and trembled from the slick still gushing out of you and to your hips occasionally stuttering. The vibrator was still against you and he really cannot contain himself.
Seeing your thighs quiver and shake sets off a hunger in him. He wants more, he wants all of you. He was filled with a primal desire for you.
Simon wants you to surrender, to let go and fall into his arms. He wants to see you melt into nothingness. He wanted to see you lose yourself in pleasure.
Grunting, he adjusts his grip on your hips and turned the vibration higher. You cursed so loud you thought the heavens were going after you.
“Simon,” you plead, already feeling the build up of your orgasm. "Feels s' g-good, please.. faster, I.. AH!"
The vibration heightened and it feels like it’s spreading like fire in your stomach. It's becoming harder to suppress your mewls as the pressure is becoming more and more intense. You close your eyes as you threw your head back, feeling the intensity grow.
Simon's ears were gracefully blessed with your cute needy moans as you arch your back from the bed, cries and sobs spilling out from your lips.
Simon, with a devious grin, increases the vibrations once more. You cried out his name and you feel tears welling up to your eyes as the pressure keeps building and building, about to burst. Your mind is spinning. Your body is at its breaking point. The pressure is unbearable, you are unable to suppress your sounds as it builds up.
You feel his warm hand on your thigh, then a finger is suddenly pushing in your drenched pussy. That drives you over the edge of the line and your orgasm came, causing you to clutch tight on his thrusting finger.
Your body tensed up as your tears spill out from your face. The pleasure was overwhelming you. Your whole body was so overstimulated with the vibrations that had you crying out.
"Si’," You whined, your legs tightly enclosing his hips between, the vibrator still vibrating in your cunt. "Can't.. anymore.. Red.."
"Fuckin’ hell, baby," You hear him groaning from his spot, swiftly pulling the vibrator away from you, turning it off. "Sorry, my love."
Your legs still shook as the aftermath of your hard orgasm. You lay there, panting for a second, as you watch your lover hovering your shivering form.
"Did so good f'me, hm?" Simon holds you close, caressing your skin and kissing your sweaty forehead. "How do you feel, love? You okay?"
"Mm-hmm... I feel..." You trail off as you're still trying to process what just happened and how it made you feel. You feel so happy, warm, and safe in his arms. "Better than a fine."
You shyly smiled at him and chose to hide your blushing face away from him when you lean your head into his neck. You feel his breath hitting yours as he laughs, adjusting his body to lay beside you.
"Glad to know," Simon continues to hold you closely. He rubs your back and kisses your neck, making sure you feel cared for and loved. "But did the toy bother you at all?"
"No." You answer neutrally when a subtle smirk formed on to your lips. "I don't think I'll ever be bothered by it, s'long as you're the one holding it."
"Oh? Where'd this freaky girl come from?" He pulls you close to him. "Where's my shy little lovie?"
You lean into Simon's chest and smirk as he comments on how much more confident you've become.
"Oh, she's still here, Si'" You say, your voice quiet and breathy as you kiss on his sternum, smiling when you feel him tensing up to your touch. "She's just not as quiet anymore."
You hear Simon exhale softly, your touch and words sending a tingle through his body. You laugh softly as you continue to kiss and nibble on his jugular. You feel his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath he takes. You look at Simon in the eyes and smile.
"Mm, said you liked her, didn't you?" You whisper close to his ear, nibbling as you do so, your voice full of confidence. "You like it when she's not as quiet."
Oh?
Oh.
Oh.
God, was Simon fucked.
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navi / masterlist
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chosok-amo · 2 months
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Yuta and a 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 reader who has a habit of making nsfw jokes at any given time..?
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SUPER FREAKY GIRL: YUTA OKKOTSU
yuta okkotsu loves having you as his girlfriend, but there is nothing that would prepare yuta from this side of you— making everything sensual; you just love having your shy boyfriend flustered and blushing, just overall giving him a hard time. . . and a boner.
w/c: 5.7k
warning : lots and lots of suggestive conversation, fluff.
𝜗𝜚 . . . i'm having too much fun writing this one because yuuta is one of my favorites jjk's character.
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yuuta okkotsu is head over heels for you. as your boyfriend, he treasures the moments you share and finds immense joy in every little aspect of your relationship. he loves the way you look at him, how you laugh at his jokes, and the tenderness of your touch. however, there's a unique side to your dynamic that always keeps him on his toes and completely off guard.
you have an incredible talent for dropping cheeky, flirtatious comments at the most unexpected moments. whether you're out with friends, in a casual setting, or sharing a quiet evening alone, you never miss an opportunity to tease him with your playful remarks. it doesn't matter if you're surrounded by people or if it's just the two of you—your provocative comments come effortlessly, catching him by surprise every single time.
yuuta finds himself blushing and stumbling over his words, his usually composed demeanor melting away under your mischievous influence. the way you playfully provoke him, turning his calm and collected nature into a flustered mess, is something he can't quite get used to, even though he adores it. your comments add a layer of excitement and unpredictability to your relationship, making every interaction with you both exhilarating and endearing. It’s a playful dance that keeps your connection vibrant and full of sparks, and yuuta wouldn’t have it any other way.
just like that moment, you and yuuta were deep into your combat training at the usual training ground, along with your friends. as you both took a brief pause to catch your breath, you decided to lighten the mood with a flirty comment.
with a playful smirk, you said, “you know, yuuta, if you keep dodging my attacks like that, i might just have to find another way to catch your attention. should i flash you some tits?”
yuuta, slightly flustered and caught off guard, tried to maintain his composure but ended up stumbling over his own feet, falling to the ground with a surprised laugh. his cheeks flushed a soft pink as he looked up at you, his usual calm demeanor giving way to a charmingly embarrassed smile.
yuuta's reaction was absolutely adorable, and you couldn't help but feel a hint of satisfaction that you'd managed to break through his otherwise calm demeanor. he chuckled softly as he attempted to pick himself up from the ground, still wearing that endearing blush on his face.
“that's— ah. . .”
his voice was shaky, a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. he cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, but it was clear that your words had made his heart skip a beat or two.
“i-i wouldn't... mind— uh. . .”
and don't forget the other day when you and yuuta were hanging out with friends in inumaki’s room, the group chatting and laughing together. yuuta was seated on the floor beside you, comfortably leaning against the wall as he engaged in conversation with his friends. you, sitting next to him, were enjoying the relaxed atmosphere and the easy camaraderie.
as the conversation flowed around you, you decided to add a bit of playful mischief to the mix. without drawing attention, you let your hand slide down and gently squeeze yuuta's thigh. his eyes widened slightly, and he momentarily faltered in his conversation, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.
yuuta tried to maintain his composure, but the warmth of your touch and the unexpected squeeze made him shift uncomfortably. his friends, too engrossed in their discussions, didn’t notice the subtle exchange. you couldn't help but smile at his reaction, enjoying the way your simple gesture made him blush and fidget while trying to keep up with the conversation.
when your friends don't notice, you lean closer, “have you been working out with gojo, babe?” you smile at him, your sweet, sweet, innocent smile. “it feels like your thighs have gotten more muscle than before,” you give his thigh another squeeze. “can i make a mess on your thigh?” you whisper in his ear, slightly giving it a kiss.
you and your dirty jokes. . .
you were spending a cozy evening in yuuta okkotsu’s dorm room. the room was softly lit, creating a warm and intimate atmosphere. you were lying on your stomach on his bed, deeply focused on your lego puzzle as you assembled the pieces with meticulous care. meanwhile, yuuta sat on the sofa near the bed, engrossed in a book, his gentle presence adding to the comfort of the night.
every now and then, you glanced over at yuuta, admiring the way he seemed completely absorbed in his reading, his eyes scanning the pages with a look of serene concentration. the quiet of the room was punctuated only by the soft rustle of pages and the occasional click of lego pieces snapping into place.
you couldn’t resist taking advantage of the peaceful moment to tease him a little. with a playful smirk, you glanced up and called out, “babe, do you have a driver's license?” you ask him. yuuta looked up from his book, a hint of surprise on his face at the unexpected question. he blinked a few times, considering the question before replying.
“a... driver's license? yeah, i do. i got it a year ago. why do you ask?” his expression was equal parts confusion and curiosity, and he marked his page before fully turning his attention towards you. the lamplight cast a soft glow over his features, making his dark eyes seem even more intense as he looked at you, waiting for your response.
you smile, looking over your shoulder to look at your boyfriend, “do you think i need a driver's license, too, to ride you?” yuuta's face instantly turns a deep shade of scarlet, and he splutters wordlessly, clearly caught off guard by your suggestive comment. his heart rate quickens, and it's clear that your words have had quite the effect on him.
he swallows hard, attempting to regain his composure as he struggles to find a suitable response to your question. after a moment, he manages to blurt out a response, his voice shaky and his eyes wide with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal.
“y-you— uh, i mean, n-no, you don't. . .”
his cheeks were flushed, and he shifted nervously on the sofa, his heart still racing from your playful comment. he couldn't help but feel flustered by your boldness, but at the same time, he found your confidence and assertiveness incredibly attractive. clearing his throat, he tried to respond in a more composed manner, attempting to hide the effect your words had on him.
“no, baby... y-you don't need a d-driver's license to...” he stumbled over his words, unable to finish the sentence as his mind wandered to the possible implications. yuuta's brain is short-circuited, his thoughts overwhelmed by the sudden fantasy that had filled his mind. he flushed an even deeper shade of red, his eyes widening in surprise as his imagination ran wild for a moment. he clenched his jaw, trying to compose himself, but he couldn't shake off the effect your words had on him.
he swallowed hard, his fingers gripping the edge of the sofa as he tried to collect his thoughts. “baby, that's... um... t-that's not fair...” he groaned, almost whining.
you chuckled, amused by how easily your boyfriend became a blushing mess. you push yourself away from the comfort of his bed to walk over him. instinctively, yuuta opens his arms, gladly and warmly welcoming you to his lap.
“what's not fair? i'm just asking you a question,” you look down at him. yuuta's arms automatically wrap around you as you settle in his lap, pulling you closer to him. the warmth of his embrace provides a sense of comfort and intimacy, and he gazes up at you with a mix of slight embarrassment and affection.
“you know what's not fair,” he mutters, his voice still faintly hoarse from the earlier flustered response. he lets out a soft chuckle, his cheeks still tinged with a hint of pink. his eyes fix on yours, a slight pout on his lips as he pretends to be indignant.
“you're playing with my heart,” yuuta leaned back into the sofa, pulling you even closer against his chest as he continued to pout slightly. despite his feigned indignation, there was a hint of playfulness in his eyes, a glimmer of enjoyment in the way he reacted to your teasing.
his arms wrapped around your waist, his touch firm and warm. he could feel your body pressed against him, and the closeness only heightened the intimacy between you. his heart raced in his chest, the sound of it like a gentle thrum against your skin.
“you're being mean,” he accused, his voice soft and somewhat teasing. yuuta's grip on your waist tightened slightly, the playful pout still on his lips. he looked up at you with the cutest puppy dog eyes, his face the picture of exaggerated disappointment, but there was a hint of mischief behind his gaze.
he let out a soft sigh, his voice a playful grumble as he continued his act of indignation. “you're toying with my emotions... it's not fair. i can't handle it when you say things like that.”
yuuta's eyes never left yours, holding your gaze with a mixture of playful affection and mock frustration. he maintained his pout, his lips pressed together in a fake frown as he continued to grumble about your behavior.
he shifted slightly underneath you, causing your hips to press against his crotch, eliciting a sharp inhale from him as he seemed to be struggling to keep up with the charade. his hands moved to grip your hips, his fingers pressing gently into your skin as if to silently urge you to stop teasing him. “i'm sorry baby, didn't mean to,” you murmur, voice so low yuuta is afraid it reaches his crotch, especially with that little smile of yours. but knowing your nature, he knows you didn't feel sorry at all, not even a wee.
yuuta swallows hard, your sultry voice sending a shiver down his spine and straight to his core. despite your mock apology, he can tell from the look in your eyes that you're not even remotely sorry at all. he takes a deep breath, trying to keep his composure as your words and your body pressed against him have an undeniable effect on him. but he plays along, feigning a pout as he speaks in a slightly breathless voice.
“you're not sorry. you're a tease.”
yuuta's words were barely a murmur as he struggled to rein in the desires growing within him. he shifted slightly, his grip on your hips becoming more firm. his body tensed beneath you, his heart hammering in his chest as he tried to maintain his composure. yet, despite his attempts to keep his cool, he couldn't help but find your teasing behavior incredibly tantalizing. the way you made his body respond so intensely to your every word and touch was both maddening and irresistible.
“no, i mean it, i'm really sorry,” you again, murmur softly. your hands are moving around, caressing yuuta's bare chest. now he kind of regrets wearing nothing but a black boxer when you are around.
yuuta's breath hitches as your fingers caress his bare chest, the sensation sending a rush of heat through his body. he bites his lip, trying to maintain his composure as your touch ignites a fire within him. he knows he's fighting a losing battle, but he still tries to keep up his act of feigned disappointment.
“you— ah. . . you really don't seem like you're sorry,” he replies as softly as he can, his voice sounding a little more huskier than usual. you laugh a little before shaking your head, “no, not at all.” slowly you move your hips— your palm puts pressure on his chest.
yuuta's eyes widen slightly as you move your hips, your touch causing a sharp intake of breath to escape from his lips. the pressure of your palm on his chest combined with your seductive movements makes his heart race even faster, his chest rising and falling more rapidly as his restraint begins to falter.
“you... tease,” he whispers under his breath, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and undeniable desire. his hands grip your hips a bit tighter as he struggles to keep control of his own body's reactions. yuuta's body trembles involuntarily as you move against him, the friction between your bodies causing him to bite back a moan.
his eyes are fixed on yours, his expression now a mix of pleading and arousal. he wants you, desperately, but he knows you're enjoying this little game of tease and denial. he swallows hard, his voice strained as he speaks. “you, you're driving me crazy teasing me like this.”
suddenly, you stop moving, and he looks at you confused, eyebrows knitting together the moment his body is covered with cold nothing.
“i'm hungry,” you said. getting up from his lap and walking over to your phone. yuuta was too stunned to speak, he looked at you with eyes wide open, having his brain working twice as hard to process what the fuck is just happened— you standing near his bed with nothing but his navy blue shirt.
yuuta was left speechless, his body cold and abandoned as you abruptly got up from his lap. he sat frozen, watching you as you stood near the bed. his mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions; frustration, confusion, and undeniable arousal. he felt vulnerable and exposed, his body still tingling from your touch, yet now left with nothing to relieve the tension.
“hungry?? seriously?”
yuuta’s voice was a bit strained, a mix of annoyance and disbelief. here he was, sitting there half-naked and flustered because of your actions, and all you could say was that you were hungry.
he ran a hand through his hair, trying to gather his thoughts and regain his composure, but it was difficult to do so while feeling so exposed and wanting nothing more than to have you back on his lap.
“you… you can’t just leave me like this and then say you’re hungry…” he wanted to protest, to pull you back to where you belong and demand that you finish what you started. but he also knew you well enough to know that your teasing could continue for much longer if he didn't tread carefully. you turn your head, masking a confused look, purposely acting oblivious to make your boyfriend frustrated; it works. “like what?” you ask, “i can't eat now?” you added.
yuuta's frustration grew as you played oblivious, pretending to be completely unaware of the effect you had on him. his jaw clenched, and he let out a small, frustrated noise as he tried to find the right words to respond. he knew you were enjoying this, reveling in his growing frustration.
“no... you can eat later— i…”
he swallowed hard, his mind filled with images of you on top of him, your hands running all over his body. but he quickly shook his head, trying to snap out of his fantasies and focus on the current moment. you groan a little, pretend to be a little annoyed, “but baby, i'm hungry. . .” you look at him while pouting. you again, walk over and stand before him— making him eye-level with your bare thigh. your eyes focusing on your screen, scrolling through a bunch of restaurants and ready to order some food.
yuuta's breath catches in his throat as you step close to him again, his eyes fixated on your bare thigh right in front of him. his hands clench at his sides as he struggles to keep himself from reaching out and pulling you onto his lap.
he takes a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts and find some semblance of control, but the sight of you in that position makes it increasingly difficult. he can feel the tension and desire rising within him, and he knows you're just stoking the flames even higher.
“babe. . . we can order later.”
yuuta's voice is low and strained as he speaks. his gaze is fixed on your legs, the temptation to reach out and run his hands up your thighs almost unbearable. his heart is racing, and he's struggling to keep his thoughts from spiraling out of control.
leaning forward slightly, he looks up at you, his eyes pleading and filled with a mixture of lust and frustration, “can't we... can't we do something else first, please...?”
yuuta's gentle and desperate comment seemed to fall on deaf ears as you continued to focus intently on your phone, scrolling through various food options. absorbed in your thoughts, you muttered aloud about your cravings.
“hmm, what should we have for dinner tonight?” you pondered, your eyes glued to the screen. “i’m really craving some chicken. it sounds so good right now. what about you, babe? any particular food you’re in the mood for?” you didn’t even bother to look up, lost in your own world of food choices. yuuta’s dark blue eyes followed you with a frustrated face.
yuuta groaned internally as you continued to obliviously scroll through your phone and discuss dinner options. he knew you were teasing him, prolonging his suffering by pretending not to notice his growing desperation. his eyes darkened as he watched you, his patience wearing thin with each passing moment of this maddening game.
he bit his lip, trying to rein in his frustration and maintain his composure, but it was a losing battle. he wanted you, wanted you badly, and you seemed determined to keep him in this state of agonizing limbo.
“babe, please. . . i don't care about dinner right now,” his voice was strained, a mixture of frustration and desire as he pleaded with you to stop this maddening game. his hands gripped the edge of the sofa, knuckles turning white as he fought the urge to snatch your phone away and show you exactly what he wanted.
“i just want you, i need you... please. can we do something else first?” he couldn’t hide the pleading tone in his voice, the words coming out almost like a desperate whimper. yuuta's heart pounded in his chest as he waited for your response, his eyes fixed on you, silently begging you to put down the phone and give him the attention he so desperately craved.
he could feel the tension in the air, the palpable sexual energy between you both, and he knew that you were fully aware of the effect you had on him. but you continued to act nonchalant, driving him to the edge of his patience. he swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke again.
“babe... please...”
“later baby,” you mumble while your eyes are still on your phone, you touching his cheek for a second before walking away to sit on his bed. yuuta's heart sank as you dismissed him, your careless words and brief touch doing nothing to quell the fire burning within him.
he watched in disappointment as you walked away and sat on the bed, a small part of him hoping that you were just trying to build up the tension, but the logical part of his brain knew that you were actually serious about waiting.
he let out a frustrated sigh, his body still aching with desire as he tried to accept that he would have to wait a while longer for the release he craved.
“later? great...”
yuuta leaned back on the sofa, feeling defeated and frustrated by your lack of attention. he took a deep breath, trying to compose himself and push aside the growing disappointment and lust coursing through his body. it was difficult, knowing that the object of his desire was right there, casually scrolling through the phone while he stewed in his own frustration.
he fidgeted on the sofa, shifting his weight and trying to find a comfortable position while he waited for you to finish your phone business so that you could finally give him the attention he craved so badly. yuuta's mind is raced, filled with a mix of emotions and thoughts. he couldn't understand how you could be so unaffected by the tension and desire that was palpable between you both.
as he sat there waiting, he began to imagine different scenarios in his mind. scenarios where you suddenly set your phone down and pounced on him, giving him the release he so desperately needed. but he knew that was unrealistic, and it only served to frustrate him further.
“done!” you declared with a sense of satisfaction as you tossed your phone onto his bed. finally, you turned to yuuta, giving him a sweet, reassuring smile. with a playful bounce in your step, you pushed yourself off the bed and walked over to him, making him think that you were ready to spend some quality time together.
however, his hopeful anticipation quickly turned to confusion as you walked right past him and headed towards the fridge. opening the door, you bent over to peer inside, scanning the contents with focused determination.
“yuuta, baby,” you called out, “do you still have that vanilla ice cream? i��ve been craving it all day!” your tone was light and cheerful, clearly more interested in satisfying your sweet tooth than in the cozy moment he had hoped for. yuuta's face fell as he watched you walk past him without even acknowledging his desperate need for your attention. his heart sank as you bent over and started rummaging through the fridge, your focus completely on your craving for ice cream.
he couldn’t believe how easily you seemed to forget about his frustration and desire, as if they were completely insignificant compared to your hunger for sweets. he frowned as he spoke, trying to mask the disappointment in his voice.
“mmm, yeah, it’s still in there…”
after a thorough search through the fridge, you finally spotted the vanilla ice cream tucked in the back. with a satisfied grin, you pulled it out and made your way back to yuuta. you plopped down beside him on the sofa, the ice cream container now in your hands.
without giving yuuta much attention, you set the ice cream on the coffee table and reach for the remote. you turned on the tv, casually flipping through channels as you settled into a comfortable position beside him. you pull the shirt up to your chest, showing yuuta your matching black underwear. the evening’s cozy atmosphere resumed as you started to focus on the show, your attention now firmly on the screen and the ice cream in your hand.
yuuta watched with a mixture of disbelief and frustration as you sat down next to him, completely oblivious to the needs he had been shamelessly expressing just moments ago. he couldn’t believe that you were actually more interested in watching tv and eating ice cream than paying any attention to him.
“what are you doing?” he asked in disbelief. his eyes couldn’t help but roam over your body as you pulled the shirt up and revealed your matching underwear. his body involuntarily reacted to the sight, but it only frustrated him even more, knowing that you had no intentions of satisfying his desires.
you turn your head to him, a confused look coloring your pretty face with a pair of your eyebrows arch, “what? i didn't want the ice cream to get to your shirt,” you tell the boy before turning your attention back to the tv.
yuuta let out a small, scoffing laugh at your nonchalant response. he couldn't believe that you were even more concerned about getting ice cream on his shirt than you were about his obvious frustration and need.
“oh, thanks for that,” he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he rolled his eyes. “i really appreciate you looking out for my shirt, but i think i was hoping for your attention on something else…” you just nodded, clearly not really paying attention to whatever he just said.
yuuta gritted his teeth, feeling increasingly frustrated and ignored. he watched as you continued eating your ice cream and watching tv, as if he wasn’t even there. he could feel the heat rising in his body, a mixture of anger and arousal that he couldn’t seem to control.
he shifted on the sofa, trying to get more comfortable, but the friction between his body and the fabric only made his frustration grow even more. he clenched his fists and tried to speak calmly, despite the frustration threatening to boil over.
“love... can we talk for a minute?”
“hm?” you hummed softly.
you turn your head to him— eyebrows arching for the second time. he watches how you lick your ice cream, starting from the bottom, and dragging your tongue to the top before putting the ice cream full inside your mouth.
yuuta couldn't believe how completely innocent and oblivious you were acting as you licked your ice cream in that incredibly seductive manner. it was driving him insane, his body responding with desperate need even though he was angry at your indifference.
“can you... can you stop doing that for a minute?“ he tried to keep his voice steady, failing to conceal the desire lacing his words. “i need to talk to you about something... it's important.” your side lips irk, like you're mocking him, “what? you wish it was your dick, huh?”
yuuta's face flushed red at your blunt and accurate comment. it was as if you had read his mind and were now taunting him with his own desires. he fidgeted on the sofa, trying to keep his tone steady despite the obvious discomfort in his pants.
“shut up...” he muttered, his voice low and full of frustrated arousal. “i just want to talk to you about... something else, okay?” yuuta's eyes darken as you mock him with that smirk on your face, your words going straight to the growing frustration and arousal within him.
you nodded, “okay.”
but your hand is moving slowly— fingers pinching your ice cream stick and pulling it out and in for a few times, still with that mocking smirk in your lips. yuuta watched as your hand moved, and he couldn’t help but let out a small, involuntary moan. he knew you were doing it on purpose, trying to tease and torture him even more, and it was working all too well. he bit his lip and clenched his fists, trying to keep his control and not give in to the growing need in his body.
“why... why are you doing this to me?” he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of desire and frustration. yuuta's body is tense as he watches you play with the ice cream stick, the sounds of your slurping and licking adding to his growing ache. he can feel his self-control slipping, the desire for you growing stronger with each passing moment.
“i just— i just want to talk to you... can you please. . .put the ice cream down for a minute?” his voice is pleading now, desperation bleeding into the words. again, you nodded, “yes, babe.” so you are putting the ice cream down— down to your throat until you gag before slowly pulling the ice cream out of your mouth.
yuuta’s eyes darkened as he watched you put the ice cream down your throat, the sight of you gagging only adding to the overwhelming mix of desire and frustration coursing through him. he swallows hard, his voice growing even more strained as he speaks, “y/n, that's not what i meant...”
yuuta's frustration and arousal reach a boiling point as he watches you continue to tease him on purpose, making it increasingly difficult for him to think clearly. he knows he should put an end to this maddening game, but his body is betraying him, responding to every action and movement you make.
he takes a deep breath, trying to rein in his desire and speak calmly, yet he can't help the hint of pleading in his voice, “can you please, just stop what you're doing and talk to me?” you nodded enthusiastically, your smile widening as you finally turned your attention back to yuuta. “yes, baby, i’m all done now. we can talk,” you reassured him, placing the ice cream stick down on the table with a contented sigh.
he noticed a small smudge of ice cream lingering at the corner of your lips. the sight made you look even more sensual. you were clearly enjoying the moment, and the bit of ice cream on your lips only added to the fire. it was white and creamy and all yuuta could ever think was how you look with his cum on your lips.
he swallowed hard, his mind wandering to thoughts of how you would look with it replaced by his own... he tried to brush away the thought, but the image was already burned into his mind. “thanks, listen, I really do need to talk to you about something...”
yuuta’s voice trailed off as his gaze fixated on the ice cream smudge on your lip. His mind was overwhelmed with thoughts and images of what he wanted to do to you, and he found it increasingly difficult to focus on the conversation. he cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice even as he continued speaking, “it's important... or at least, i think it is, but i can't concentrate with... with...” he pauses, his eyes locked on that damn smudge of ice cream on your lip.
“with what?”
yuuta’s frustration and desire grew stronger as he continued to stare at your lip, the ice cream smudge taunting him. he knew he should just blurt out what he wanted to say, but the words were stuck in his throat. he took a deep breath, trying to compose himself and form a coherent sentence.
“that, that ice cream smudged... on your lip,” he manages to say, his voice strained and low, “it's distracting me.” he tried to keep his voice steady, but he could hear the slight waver in his tone, betraying the struggle he was having to keep his focus and control. he clenched his fists, silently willing you to just wipe that damn ice cream smudge off your lip, but you just sat there, seemingly oblivious to the effect it was having on him.
he shifted on the sofa, trying to find a more comfortable position, but the movement only served to remind him of the growing ache in his body. he wanted to reach out and wipe it off himself, but he knew that would only make things worse. he swallowed hard, his voice strained as he spoke again, “babe... can you please just wipe that ice cream off your lip? it's driving me insane.”
“oh?” your thumb moves across your lips, brushing the ice cream off of you before licking your finger. “sweet, just like when i swallow you.” yuuta's breath hitched as he watched you wipe the ice cream off your lips with your finger, and then casually licking it clean, as if you were blissfully unaware of the effect you had on him.
he couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration at your nonchalant attitude, but at the same time, his body responded to the sight, stirring with renewed desire at your words, “babe... what are you doing to me...”
you taking off your shirt before moving closer, “wanna taste yourself?” you mumble on his lips after you ring your arms around his neck, closing any gap between you and him. yuuta let out a soft moan as he feels your lips on his, the taste of the sweet ice cream still lingering on them. your arms around his neck only added to his growing arousal, and he found it increasingly difficult to keep his control.
he let his hands roam over your bare skin, tracing the curves and ridges of your body with his fingers as he spoke in a ragged whisper, “god, you're driving me crazy... you know that?”
smiling, you whisper “i know,” on his lips as you push him to lie on the couch, slowly with you on top of him. yuuta's body responds eagerly to your touch and movement, his hands instinctively reaching for your hips and holding you gently in place on top of him. he can feel the heat from your body radiating through him, the sweet, lingering taste of the ice cream still clinging to your lips.
he looks up at you with a mixture of frustration and desire, his voice coming out in a low, gravelly whisper, “you're going to be the death of me, you know that? i-i want you so badly.”
“we can forget the chicken, i'm craving to get rail out of nowhere,” you mumble on his lips, licking his bottom lips. a low, guttural moan escapes from yuuta's lips as he feels you licking his bottom lip, his body responding immediately to your touch and words. he can feel his resolve slipping as his hands grip your hips tighter, pulling you even closer to him on the sofa.
he manages to speak through gasps and breaths, “jesus... the things you do to me.” he can feel the heat of your body pressed against his, his hands begin to roam over the bare skin of your back, tracing the contour of your curves as he no longer fights the rising tide of desire and frustration within him.
by the end of the night, yuuta had certainly made sure that you were thoroughly exhausted and satisfied, paying you back for all the teasing and driving him crazy. the combination of his pent-up frustration and desire had led to a night of intense passion and energy that left you both breathless and spent.
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slashercult · 2 months
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pick an image to find out how your future spouse is with you
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reminder that not all of the messages in this reading may apply to everyone. so with that i urge you to take what resonates and leave the rest. don't force anything if it does not fit. this reading is mainly just for fun. don't forget to follow or reblog if you want to see me do more readings like this.
pile one
this person is obsessed w you, like they are in LOVE love. & i dont mean in like a creepy "they are never going to leave you alone" type of obsessed, more like you are their favorite person ever and they love hanging out w you all the time. some drake lyrics were coming thru while doing this reading: "everybody has an addiction, mine happens to be you." i feel like very rarely will this person ever not get excited to just be in your presence during your whole marriage. like i can still picture them looking at you the same way they did on your wedding day even when you're both old n grey. they also happen to be a huge romantic so it makes a lot of sense. whenever they have good news they rush to tell you bc they want you to be the first person to share their happiness with. they're overall very sweet, i don't see them being the jealous type - i think they trust you enough to be scared of you going off with some other person. and you'll never even think about anyone else when you're with them because they treat you so well.
pile two
this person's love language is deff physical touch and it'll show when you're around them. they love hugging you and being intimate and doing all that sort of stuff. they honestly do not care where you both are because nothing is going to stop them from giving you forehead kisses or hugs. they love the way that you smell, it reminds them of walks in nature and pieces from their childhood. they love teasing you as well, they're very affectionate w you. they're incredibly supportive and also humble. i see you both being on a ton of trips, particularly road trips, but normal traveling is also coming through. i feel this person may not be as outspoken ab how much they love you, like they won't outright say "i think you're the most beautiful person i know" to you but don't worry bc they definitely think that you are. they have a very unique way of showing their love and i feel that you are someone who tends to pay more attention to details than others which makes you perfect for this person because while others may overlook or misinterpret them, you see them for who they are.
pile three
this person is super fun to be around, like they have the best energy ever. & i dont mean in a "they're always the life of the party" way, more like they make even the smallest moments feel special. i feel like whenever you're having a bad day, this person knows exactly how to cheer you up without even trying. they're the kind of person who surprises you with little thingamabobs and trinkets all the time just to see you smile. like they'll randomly bring you food that you like without you even asking them. they also happen to have a great sense of humor (that's kind of subtle but you like it) so you'll always be laughing a lot together. they’re overall very supportive of you, i don’t see them being the type to criticize your dreams. you'll always feel appreciated bc they will never take you for granted. though his laid-back and relaxed personality are behaviors you see often, you know your future spouse better than anyone. they're very inspiring and honestly i feel like you both will work on a project together bc you share similar dreams (i'm seeing some sort of art form, probably like writing or smth along those lines)
thanks for reading! if you enjoyed or resonated please heart and reblog so i can do more of these readings.
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Note
about ur Logan headcanons…
him n his pregnant wife 🥺🥺
OMG YES!!!!!
Okay okay wait I’m so excited, thank you so much for the ask anon!!
Minors don’t interact!
(Dw it’s not all smut just some of it is <3) (teeny bit of breeding kink given the circumstances)
(Btw I would really really appreciate some comments because my last post got like 800 some (thank you btw!!) likes/blank reblogs and one comment 😭 you don’t have to but it would make my day!!)
-first, he literally will NOT leave you alone. You’re sleeping? He’s laying there too, pretending to sleep. You’re in the bathroom? He’s outside the door- hell, he’d go in there with you if you’d let him. He’s so so scared that your water will just magically break (even while you’re only a month in) and also so so obsessed with the fact that you’re gonna be parents
-that being said, this man would NEVER admit to it but he’s bought like 5 parenting books that he all but knows by heart. He’ll read them when you fall asleep, his old man glasses low on his nose as he does.
-he’s also been writing letters to your future child as the pregnancy goes on, one per month. “I don’t know what your name is yet, kid, but your mom and I can’t wait to meet you.” And it’s in his precious old man cursive and I can guarantee you that when you see it you’ll be crying for seven hours
-he loves brainstorming names with you. I personally see him as a girl dad and wanting a girl, but he’s still thinking of any and all possibilities. And he’s still gonna love it to death if it’s a boy, don’t you worry about him
-but because he’s so old so many of the names he picks are somewhat dated, and it’s ADORABLE. Ulysses, Ethel, Martha, etc.
-he’s been insistent on doing basically everything- the cooking, the cleaning, the building of the baby furniture. Except he usually needs your help, or for you to throw some seasoning on the food behind his back. But he doesn’t want his pretty baby with his baby to have to lift a single finger
-ESPECIALLY in the bedroom. This mf… he believes every single myth he sees on the internet, so he’s SUPER gentle and will always wear a condom, both of which are unheard of prior to your pregnancy.
-which is SUCH a switch from how he was while you guys were trying for a baby…
-see, Logan’s always had this raging breeding kink.
-so after many serious conversations leading into the decision that the both of you wanted to try for a kid…
-let’s just say Logan was more than ready
-the amount of money that had to go into sheets during this period was actually crazy
-look, Logan always fucks
-but when he was able to let his breeding kink take control, he was absolutely feral
-the moment you would get home from work he would pounce on you, ripping off your clothes before you even had a second to say hello
-you’d have already come three times before he’d throw you down, bending you in half into the mating press and absolutely ravishing you, pounding you deeper and deeper into the mattress
-and the mouth on him was FILTHY
-“can’t wait for everyone to see who you belong to.” “You’re gonna keep taking it until it takes, and then I’m gonna make you take it some more.” “Gonna look so pretty with that tummy all round with our baby.”
-he would make you cry and see stars in the absolute best way possible
-and then it took and all of a sudden he was more gentle than a… idk gentle thing? 😭
-the duality of man I tell you
-he’s gets so cuddly and it’s absolutely adorable. He’s always been one to lay his head on your lap of snuggle into you but now?? He’s always pulling you into his lap, his hand is always on your belly
-he loves how soft and squishy you’re becoming, especially your thighs and your breasts
-when you’re achey he’s quick to massage you, when you’re feeling sick he’s right there to hold your hair
-did I mention the cooking? Listen this man is really bad at cooking but he’s trying so hard with Martha Stewart and Gordon Ramsey videos. You can hear him calling himself an idiot sandwich when he fucks up, and it’s hilarious. Meanwhile you’ll be on the couch with one of your pregnancy cravings foods, pad thai with curry from two restaurants from two separate parts of town. Yes, Logan went and got it for you. 🥹
-he literally gets anything you want too, he’s wrapped around your finger. A miniverse, marshmallows and pickles? He’s got you. That very specific lip gloss that tastes really good? Done. Literally anything you want he’s getting it without question.
-he even watches whatever you want with minimal complaint
-he’s also already spoiling the child and it hasn’t even been born yet, the nursery has everything you can imagine. Toys, books, stuffed animals, games, legos, wall decor, literally everything
-and you guys don’t even know the gender so you both just threw a dart at a color wheel and themed the room after whatever color it ended on
-he wants to give this kid the life he never had, and there’s no doubt he will
-Logan Howlett is going to be a wonderful father, and he’s so excited to love on your child just as much as he loves on you
-<3
Xx
If you want your own set of headcanons or blurb fic, hit me up!!
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awearywritersworld · 1 year
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"do you like me?" "nope."
gojo satoru x reader summary: even yuuji realizes that gojo has a crush on you, but you're oblivious as ever w/c: 1.1k tags/warnings: ft. yuuji and megumi. fluff. super light angst. lots of banter. a lil mutual pining. yuuji and gojo being chaotic. gender neutral reader. a/n: not sure how this turned out, but it was fun to write! masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here
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"(l/n)-sensei!!"
you're trying to relax and really, fifteen minutes is all you want, but these days that seems impossible.
you turn your head toward the sparring field just in time to see yuuji fly into a tree about 30 yards away. megumi is already on the ground struggling to get up.
meanwhile gojo is prancing, literally prancing, in the opposite direction. you walk toward the group with a mixture of annoyance and disappointment playing across your features, all your hope for some peace and quiet crushed.
"that was awesome!" the pink haired boy shouts from amid a mess of leaves and branches.
gojo gushes over the praise, his hands pressing against his cheeks. "thank you, yuuji! it's nice to know someone around here appreciates my unmatched strength."
"i don't remember offering to be a part of the demonstration," megumi grumbles, finally rising to his feet.
his demeanor is less than pleased and you glance at him sympathetically before turning to gojo. "you do know that you're an adult, right? like, as in, a fully grown man."
"(y/n)-chaaaaan, you're always so mean to me," he whines, grabbing your hands dramatically. "what have i done to deserve such cruel treatment?"
"today or in general?" you pretend to think for a second. "i seem to remember you waking me up at seven this morning so that you didn't have to go to your meeting with masamichi-san alone-"
"he was mad at me for skipping the last one i had!"
"-and then you hid my phone for almost an hour because i wouldn't give you my last candy bar-"
"i was starving, (y/n)-chan! it wasn't my fault, you know that!"
"-and then you destroyed that tree, which i really happened to like by the way."
his gaze flickers toward that direction, the splintered wood a sad remnant of what it used to be, then throws his arms in the air. "this is so unfair!"
"(l/n)-sensei! did you see?" yuuji calls out, already fully recovered and bounding toward you.
"i sure did." you chuckle at his tattered clothes and unfazed attitude.
"what'd ya think?"
you really can't bring yourself to scold him, not with all the excitement in his voice. "oh, it was certainly something."
"did you hear that, gojo-sensei?" yuuji lights up.
megumi disguises his laugh with a cough. "i don't think that was a compliment."
the boy visibly deflates so you ruffle his hair. "it was pretty cool, i just don't want you getting hurt." that earns a grin, to your relief.
"so i get yelled at, but you're nice to him?" gojo pouts indignantly.
"yes."
"ugh! this is killing me, (y/n)-chan!" he announces before promptly knocking you to the ground, the action something between a hug and a tackle.
"gojo, get off of me!" you yell, though there's a hint of laughter in your voice.
"i can't! not until you forgive me!"
your giggles ring through the air, music to gojo's ears, and your hands push him away as he tries to tickle your sides. you look like two kids, rolling around in the grass and shouting at one another.
yuuji leans in toward megumi, his voice hushed as if he's about to reveal the world's biggest secret. "i'm starting to think there's something going on between those two."
his friend looks at him as if he's grown a second head. "you're just now noticing?"
~~~
you're making dinner in your apartment while gojo sits on the kitchen floor, his legs splayed out and taking up nearly half of the small room. his blindfold had been discarded at one point or another, something he made a habit of doing when it was just the two of you.
"what are we having tonight, chef?"
"me? i'm having braised chicken thighs. i'm not sure about you though," you tease.
you didn't invite him to dinner, he just kind of followed you back to your place after sparring practice. you don't really mind, you never do, not that you'd ever admit it out loud.
"you wouldn't give me your candy bar and now you won't have dinner with me either? today is the worst! is this still about the tree? i told you i was sorry-"
"geez i was just kidding!" you cut him off. "of course you can have some, but only if you get the flour off the top shelf for me."
"i guess that's a fair trade," he reasons, rising to his feet lazily.
the cabinet is just to your left, so his body presses into yours as he reaches up, the contact making your heart flutter.
"thanks," you exhale when he sets it down within your reach.
he doesn't return to his sitting position, just leans against the counter and watches you carefully stir the ingredients in the pan.
"do you like me?" he inquires suddenly.
"nope."
"hm, do you like like me?" he suggests, a small smirk playing at his lips.
"gojo, that's honestly defamatory."
he rolls his eyes playfully. "c'mon, be serious."
"you be serious," you challenge the usually facetious man.
"i am."
resting your spoon on the pan, you turn to face him, unsure if he's just messing with you like always. the room is silent, save for the faint popping of oil, as he waits for you to say something.
"why do you wanna know?"
"'cause i like you, why else?"
your hands gather the fabric of your apron nervously, crumpling it between your fingers while you avoid his gaze. his words strike you as entirely implausible. after all, he's gojo and you're, well, you.
"you... you shouldn't joke about stuff like that."
he laughs at you and it breaks your heart a little, but then you feel two lithe hands on either side of your face. "(y/n), look at me."
you do, albeit apprehensively, and his eyes bore into your own with an intensity you aren't familiar with. it makes your knees feel weak. a smile tugs at his lips before they capture your own, the movement slow and soft.
your fingers reach up to wrap around his wrist, an attempt to steady yourself against him, before one of his hands travels down to your hip and gives it a light squeeze.
you taste so sweet, feel so perfect in his hands, that gojo kicks himself for waiting so long to kiss you. his lips move to the corner of your mouth, across your cheek, then begin to work their way up your jaw. he hums against your skin, satisfied with the breathy noises he's pulling from your throat.
then, the smell of burning invades your senses and you pull away from each other with wide eyes, exclaiming in unison. "the food!"
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ovaryacted · 8 days
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WISH YOU KNEW || CH. 1
─ KISS THE GIRL
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─ Logan Howlett/Wolverine x fem! reader
SYNOPSIS: Another mundane afternoon rolls around that quickly turns into a new beginning after Logan abruptly meets one of Wade's close friends.
CONTENT/WARNINGS: MDNI/18+. NSFW. NO SMUT. Worst! Logan / Variant! Logan. Friends to lovers vibes. Mutual pining. Sexual tension. Close proximity. Flirting. Playful Banter. Kissing. Alcohol Consumption. Profanity. Logan catching feelings. Wade being an instigator. Age gap implied [Logan is his canon age, reader is mid to late 20s]. Reader has an established friendship w/Wade. Descriptions of reader's clothing. Mentions of other characters.
WC: 7.9K
A/N: Super excited to be posting this today, I hope everyone enjoys it as much as I enjoyed writing it despite it taking me a little while. This whole story and first part is an extensive addition to these headcanons I posted a while back. Huge thank you to @ozarkthedog for the proofread and encouragement to finish this project, and shoutout to my baby @joelsdagger for helping me with the aesthetics and vibes of this post. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated! <3
NAVIGATION | SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT PART | AO3
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Leaping into a new reality after everything he’d been through was far from the strangest things Logan had to experience in his incredibly long life. If anything, he was secretly appreciative to be given a second chance, a way to redeem himself from the horrors of his previous timeline and possibly live up to the expectations of his former self.
Though, he imagined things would be much more different. He thought that by now, he’d be living independently with a stable source of income outside of taking odd mercenary jobs alongside Deadpool, of all people. Crashing on the couch of the culprit that brought him into this mess was far from what he wanted, but getting adjusted to this new way of living was taking much longer than he anticipated.
Wade whistled to himself as he stayed busy in the kitchen. Still dressed in his pjs, the pink kiss-the-cook apron was neatly tied around his waist, paired with an obnoxiously crisp chef’s hat. He poured some batter into a flat pan, watching it puff up and sticking his tongue out in concentration as he flipped the pancake, ensuring the edges didn’t burn.
It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, usually full of playing reruns on the TV and sleeping off the previous night of copious whiskey drinking. The alternative was dealing with Wade’s get-togethers, where his friends stopped by for game night. Logan could, in theory, stay behind and beat everyone at the table in a good game of poker, but having so many individuals in the tiny one-bedroom apartment he was already sharing with two other people and a dog could be overstimulating. 
The doorbell ringing disrupted the rarely calm atmosphere, sending the hairs on Logan’s nape to rise. He didn’t think it could be Blind Al coming back home so soon unless her daily walk was cut short. Wade made quick work of the pancakes in the current stack, setting them to the side and striding into the entryway to look through the peephole. Squealing to himself, he gave the grumpy man on the couch one more glance as a warning to behave and swung the door open to let an unknown figure come into view.
In walks a new stranger, someone Logan hasn’t had the pleasure of meeting personally. He was presented to Wade’s inner circle once he was brought into this world, surprised at the diverse group of people who tolerated his behavior longer than he had. Your face was refreshing compared to who he usually saw, and your abrupt entrance captivated him.
He diligently observed how you rummaged through the kitchen, tearing open the overhead cabinets and searching for something he couldn’t quite decipher under your mumbles. You have yet to sense an additional presence in the apartment, and you’re too busy in your quest to take a peek at the couch. 
“Where the hell did you put my wine, Wade? I told you to hold it for me, not pop it open.” Your voice cut through the room, hitting Logan’s discerning ears. As strange as it was, he thought the pitch of your voice suited you, or at least what he suspected would closely resemble it.
“Well, happy Sunday to you too, honey bunches. Are you looking for it? Sorry to burst your bubble, but Blind Al drank all of it,” he joked with a devilish grin. There he was again, jerking someone’s chain when given the chance, and yet Logan found himself curious about your dynamic with his roommate.
“Since when did Althea drink wine? I swear if you opened my rosé without telling me, I’m never bringing you anything again,” you playfully threatened as the corner of your lips curled up in a smirk.
A righteous aha! came from you as the bottle manifested in your hand, smiling widely at your successful find. You turned around, spotting Wade in his apron before your eyes moved further to the right, noticing the aged man for the first time since you barged into the apartment. He could see how your pupils dilated at taking him in, the cogs turning in your head as you tried to figure out who he was and his association with Wade.
“Who’s the big guy?” You jutted your chin toward the mutant, forcing Wade to take the initiative to bridge the introduction between you two. 
“Ah, him. Yeah, that’s Logan, the Wolverine. Kinda resurrected him as Marvel Jesus and brought him from his timeline into ours after saving the world. Now we’re happily married with a kid,” Wade said with full confidence, another one of his meddling tactics. 
“Oh, oh. This is Logan?” You tilted your head to study the man in question, all while he fought the urge to raise an eyebrow. Has Wade mentioned him to you before? “So you two are…”
“No, no we’re not,” Logan finally spoke, quickly rising from the couch to end the dubious dialogue. A pout formed on Wade’s face at his friend’s intrusion, no longer feeding into the delusion that they were somehow more than cohabitants.
“Don’t know what he’s told you, but I’m crashing on the couch since your friend brought me here.” Somehow after the brief explanation of how he got here, it sounded even worse coming from Logan’s mouth.
“Peanut, do not embarrass me right now. I know you’re shy about our true love, but sugarplum here is very much an ally,” Wade lifted a finger at him, more comical than the overall discussion, as Logan sighed in annoyance. He figured he might as well introduce himself properly since he’s gotten this far.
“Logan,” he opened his palm to offer a handshake, catching your name grace your lips as you clasped your hand over his. The squeeze you gave him was reassuring, and he reciprocated in kind, holding your gaze and drawing his hand away. 
“I’m guessing how you got here is a long story?” Your eyes dashed to Logan in interest, sparing him the embarrassment of denying the initial claims your mutual friend made without his knowledge.
“Very long.” Before Logan could smack his hand over Wade’s mouth, he closed his eyes, waiting for the raunchy commentary soon to follow.
“That’s what she said!” Wade clapped his hands, receiving a groan from the older man and a chuckle from you.
“You’ll have to tell me about it some time then. I’ll never understand Wade’s quests, all he talks about is who he kills and how much fun he has doing it.”
“Honey, the complexities of the space-time continuum are way too extreme to explain in one sitting. I’m going to need a podcast and a projector to elaborate on it,” while Wade kept responding to you, Logan observed the exchanges between you two, making mental notes as he read your body language. 
“I think you’re banned from the tech stores within the tri-state area, but maybe you can try Amazon,” you offered him, the same lively smile popping up once again. “The new season of Love Island USA drops this weekend. Are we still on for our watch party?”
“You must be fucking crazy if you think I will miss this premiere,” he beamed at you, mimicking your expression of delight.
“Then I’ll bring some of those sweet ‘n salty pretzels you and Althea like next time I stop by,” you announced, kissing Wade’s wrinkly cheek to honor the words threaded onto his apron. Your hand hovered over the front door handle, meeting hazel eyes to the right. “I hope to see you around Logan.”
One final glimpse at them, and you were out the door, the silhouette of your shadow no longer in the older mutant’s peripheral. Wade returned to the kitchen to continue cooking his late breakfast, putting strawberries and maple syrup on a stack of chocolate pancakes and cutting into the sweetened heap. 
“Is she another one of your friends?” Logan asked, his encounter with a new face birthed a sense of novelty that flickered in his mind.
“Mhm. Met her at a grocery store when I was finding something for Blind Al and kept bumping into her throughout the city. We just became friends, plus Althea loves her, probably because she’s always bringing her sweet treats,” Wade answered casually, his mouth half stuffed with the pancakes he bit into.
“Hmm. So I should be worried about seeing more people entering this apartment?”
“She comes for our religious reality TV and movie nights. It’s no biggy, she’s like everyone else I know. Think of me, but with a brain, and maybe not with the whole ‘immortal’ thing I got going on here,” he clarified, the thought of having to deal with anyone remotely similar to Wade filled Logan with inexplicable anxiety. Yet, all he did was shake his head and cross his arms across his chest.
“Great, the more the merrier.”
“You know, maybe if you weren’t such an asshole, you could actually have friends in this world, or even get laid. But instead, you’re too hellbent on being a grouch,” Wade replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Maybe I’d have friends and get laid if people didn’t think we were fucking all the time,” Logan reacted defiantly, grabbing hold of Mary Puppins and attaching the leash to her collar, getting ready to take her out on a walk around the neighborhood.
“Live in your truth, Wolvie. Be who you are!” Wade exclaimed again, ignoring Logan’s curses as he stepped through the front door to get some fresh air.
Logan held on to the leash with one hand as he walked down the block with Dogpool, taking in the acquainted streets and ignoring the looks that came his way. Thankfully, after being in Wade’s world for a while, the stares have transitioned from hate to mere tolerance, aiding his adjustment. As he turned the corner, his intrigue spiked as he thought more of his brief interaction with you, another of Wade’s friends who will inevitably return for a visit. 
Who are you?
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Sticking to Wade’s words, you stopped by the apartment more than Logan expected. You’d come by and drop off some dinner and pastry dishes bought on your way home from work when you had the chance, and you shared what you got with Wade and Blind Al. For the most part, you made delivery stops to Wade’s place once every other week, walking into the space with a couple of pans of food and placing it on the nearest kitchen counter. You’d stay for a few minutes talking to either Wade or Althea, giving each of them a friendly kiss on the cheek or the top of their head before heading home.
Logan wouldn’t always be around when you visited the other two, missing you by a few minutes when he would be fulfilling a job or out and about. Still, when he was home, he’d be in the background observing you, talking to everyone while keeping himself at arm’s length. You supposed he had the whole grumpy, mysterious vibe that made him tough to approach. So, instead, you’d offer him a cordial wave and a mutter of his name, at least something that acknowledges him when he was in the same space as you.
Week by week, your face became a regular thing for Logan, mainly on Saturdays when you joined Wade in watching whatever current reality TV show was occupying your attention. The brutish man would be on his way to the local bar when you rang the doorbell, dressed in some comfy loungewear and your tote bag full of snacks.
Logan made it a habit not to intrude on your time with Wade. He was already with him for most of the day, the least he could do was respect your time when granted. That didn’t mean he wasn’t wondering what you were like outside of being friends with his companion.
Eventually, he got his moment.
A Thursday afternoon rolled around when Logan came home from the gym to an empty apartment, a rare occurrence he planned to relish. A note on the fridge from Wade mentioned he was out with Big Al and Mary Puppins doing God knows what, not that he wanted to know nor ask. He took a shower to rinse off the grime from his workout, threw on a ribbed tank and sweats, and headed to the kitchen for a cold beer. Popping the bottle cap off, he managed to take one sip before the front doorbell rang, his eyes squinting at the entrance and internally sighing as his moment of tranquility was interrupted.
Leaving the bottle on the counter and opening the door, he was surprised to find you on the other side of the threshold with a covered tin foil pan, no doubt containing something edible. You were still in your work clothes: a pencil skirt and button-down shirt on your body with heels to match, your purse hanging off one of your shoulders.
“Oh, hey, Logan. Came to drop this stuff off for Wade. Do you mind?”
“Nah, ain’t a problem,” Logan shifted to the side to grant you entry, eyeing the back of your head as you wandered past him and into the kitchen.
“I’m guessing Wade and Al are out?” you asked the man as you handled your business, inserting the tin pan into the fridge and closing it with your hip.
“Yeah. Probably doing something I shouldn’t worry about.” You laughed at that, a light sound that he preserved in the imprints of his consciousness.
“Let’s hope they don’t bring back some cocaine. Lord knows the last thing that lady needs is a sniff of powder.” It was Logan’s turn to chuckle, the rumble of a hum you considered equivalent to a laugh.
“So it’s just you in here?” you said as you placed your work bag on the nearest surface, an attempt to rest your arm from lugging the extra weight around.
“Just me,” his broad shoulders lifted and dropped as he leaned against the kitchen wall. “They’ll be back in a bit. You can wait for them if you want, and I can head out.”
“You don’t need to do that. Do I really make you that uncomfortable?” you raised an eyebrow at him as his features softened at your inquiry.
“Uncomfortable isn’t the right word,” he shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest again, the muscles in his biceps tightening as he did so. “You and Wade, you’re close, were close before I got here. Not trying to bother what you two have going on.”  
You hummed then, standing straight on one leg and entering a more relaxed stance. Logan could tell by your body language that you weren’t disturbed or intimidated by him, which he assumed was a good sign.
“Sure, I’ve known Wade and Al for a while, but I don’t mind having you around. You’re a little hard to talk to. Figured you were one of those types who liked to brood in silence, at least from what Wade told me.”
“What exactly did he tell you about me?” Logan contested, looking directly at you when he could.
“Do you want to hear the pg-13 or the explicit version? He had a lot to say. Not sure you’d be too happy about it, though,” Logan’s lips pursed, and his eyebrows furrowed at the thought. Knowing Wade, he probably said more than enough, and everything under the sun that wasn’t true.
“Fucker has a big mouth,” he almost took back what he said until he caught your nod of agreement, easing him a bit.
“He doesn’t know when to stop talking, but I can’t hate him for it. He’s just…honest, maybe a little too honest,” you claimed. “If you’re that worried about what he said, I didn’t take any of it literally. You’ll just have to prove him wrong.”
Logan’s sight bounced to you, curiosity laced in your stare as you glanced at him. For a moment, he was taking another read at you again, debating if you were as trustworthy as Wade makes you seem. He sensed your heartbeat and the steady pulse at your neck, even in pace, without a singular beat missing in rhythm. You were already here, and he reasoned he’d have to get used to all of Wade’s acquaintances sooner or later. Why not add you to the mix?
“Guess so,” his lips slightly turned upwards as his focus remained on you, deeming it acceptable to quit hiding in the background. A beat of silence filled the kitchen, one watching the other and your eyes unmoving from Logan’s face. For a split second, your pulse spiked with an intake of breath and releasing it, shaking you out of the sudden trance.
“I gotta go, but tell the deadly duo that there’s tiramisu in the fridge. You can take a piece too, I know they can be stingy,” you grabbed your work bag and threw it over your shoulder again, heading for the front door and offering Logan one last smile. “Don’t be a stranger.”
There you were, out the door again and off to your place with only the conversation you shared and the tiramisu you brought as proof of your presence. Logan huffed a breath and reached for the beer bottle sitting on the counter, making his way to the couch. He plopped down, sipping away at the lukewarm beverage and throwing his head back along the edge, staring at the ceiling with your words playing on loop in the space between his ears.
Don’t be a stranger.
He tries to deny the slight tug of warmth fluttering in his chest, manifesting into an exhale and a shake of his head, followed by another sip of his drink to wash it down.
He makes sure he won’t be.
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Integrating Logan into your established dynamic with Wade and Althea was seemingly effortless. You didn’t make a big fuss about forcing him into joining the weekly TV binging when he was home, but it was nice to hear more of your voice directed at him occasionally. Whenever you stopped by Wade’s place with baked pastries or dishes, Logan hovered in the backdrop, returning your gestures when you threw one his way.
He liked having you around, not to mention the food you dropped off would fill him with a sense of comfort he hadn’t felt in a long time. Once, you handed Wade these red velvet cookies Althea liked from a downtown bakery. Logan side-eyed them munching away at the baked goods, silently judging them for satisfying their sweet tooth to such an extent. His facade was maintained until the middle of the night when Wade and Al were asleep in the bedroom, walking on muted footsteps to finish the rest of the cookies in the pan. He goes back to playing the part of being the nonchalant roommate once the sun rises, pretending to be shocked when Wade starts pointing fingers and gets into a blaming match with the blind woman he shares a bed with.
It was a matter of time before you offered more than just food, keeping the newest member of your friendly circle in mind the next time you decided what to bring to the household. There was a double knock on the door, and Wade was on the other end, waiting for you with girlish excitement.
“Hey, Wadey. Hi Althea,” you wiggled your fingers at the elderly woman. Dropping the pans on the dinner table, everyone gathered around the middle of the apartment, anxiously lingering to see what you had brought. 
“Finally, I’ve been waiting for this all fucking week,” Wade approved happily, nudging you by the shoulder. “Show daddy the goods! Come to papa.”
You giggled and unwrapped two tin containers, unveiling baked lasagna and penne a la vodka. You could practically hear everyone’s stomach rumbling at the collective awe of the food in front of them, still warm to the touch as the scent of the meal wafted through the apartment.
“Thought Italian would be good, so I called this restaurant a while ago to set some dishes aside for pick-up. Got devil’s food cake too, I hope you’re in the mood for chocolate,” you voiced, smacking Wade’s hand away that threatened to dip into the pasta.
“Honestly, I think we should get married. You don’t even have to see me at all. As long as you bring me food like this, I’ll give you one kill a week.” Wade’s proposal made you smirk. Though it was tempting, you knew better than to get associated with the mess of his job.
“Don’t want to be a homewrecker,” you gestured to Logan, who rolled his eyes. “I did bring something for the grump, too. Consider it a very late welcome to this world gift.” 
He watched as you handed him a paper bag, your fingers wrapping around what appeared to be the neck of a bottle. Logan held the familiar weight in his large hands, peeling back the bag to drag out a nicely sized whiskey bottle, Johnnie Walker, to be exact.
He didn’t realize how high his eyebrows raised at receiving a gift, much less something from you. The food containers did get bigger after Wade complained about somebody eating everything after 24 hours. But knowing you were somehow thinking about him revived that pulse in his chest.
“Thank you,” he said genuinely, russet irises focused in your direction. “Really, this is nice.”
“It’s the least I could do since I’m always coming over here,” you said, appreciating Logan’s kindness and mirroring his grateful expression.
There it was again, the beat of silence that entranced the both of you when you entered the same room. The space between Logan’s ribs ached, a strange and unnerving thumping that carried a wave of unfamiliarity.
“Are we going to fucking eat or what?” Blind Al muttered out loud, disrupting the moment you shared with Logan.
“Aht aht, being greedy isn’t nice, Althea. I’m still pissed you ate the corner piece of the brownies I called dibs on last week,” Wade squinted his eyes as he blamed the elderly woman for a crime she didn’t commit. That was, in fact, Logan.
“Motherfucker, if we stand here any longer, the lasagna will get cold,” Althea criticized, the two bickering amongst themselves beside you. You shake your head in disbelief, going to the kitchen to grab some plates, with Logan following behind to help you bring the utensils and cups.
“You want to stay a while?” The suggestion tumbled out of him without thinking, anxious that he had just shot himself in the foot. When your smile reappeared, his worries passed.
“Yeah, I got time,” you held a few plates, heading to the dinner table to join the others in fighting over the pieces of lasagna.
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Logan reached other milestones in your bond over the upcoming weeks when you invited them to dinner at your apartment to celebrate your recent job promotion. He didn’t know why he stressed about which shirt to wear or how to style his hair, wanting to put some effort into his appearance this time. Deciding on a red flannel and a leather jacket, he didn’t say a word when Wade was messing around with wigs to wear for the evening.
After a few threats of slicing Wade’s head off if he didn’t hurry the fuck up, they were on their way to your place. An 8-minute walk around the neighborhood and a buzz of the intercom later, you happily greeted the two men at the front door. Stepping aside to let them both pass, you briefly eyed the breadth of Logan’s back flexing under his jacket as he trekked inside, closing the door behind them.
“Al didn’t come along?” you questioned, half expecting the elderly woman to join you.
“Nope, she’s fast asleep. You know how old people are, strict curfews and powdery smells,” Wade quipped, glancing around the table to see what you had prepared.
“Surprised you don’t have a wig on right now,” you lightly jested, straightening the collar of Wade’s polo and approving of his outfit choice.
“I was deciding between a short bob and a tapered fade when Logan threatened to tear me limb from limb. I think that’s his way of flirting.”
At the mention of the other male, your gaze landed on him as he surveyed his surroundings. Your apartment was nice, small yes, but homey, just enough for one person. The living room consisted of your TV and a plush couch, a colorful blanket thrown over its edge, and a leather armchair beside the windows draped in sheer curtains. Two sets of bookshelves rested on the walls closest to the entryway, a collection of books and knick-knacks filled the shelves, a mix of genres from thrillers to romance to fantasy. He took in the setting of your space one last time before pivoting to face you.
“Sorry, Wilson, but you’re not my type,” Logan replied, his hands digging into the pocket of his jeans.
“He’s in denial and emotionally constipated. Don’t worry, Wolvie. I will wait for you forever, as long as you return home to me.” Logan ignored him, mumbling a quiet shut the fuck up under his breath.
The rest of the night went by smoothly, and Logan used it as an opportunity to learn more about you. Through conversing with Wade, he discovered you work at a media studio further downtown. Initially, you were just a journalist pitching stories that would sometimes be published or given the spotlight. Your promotion now makes you the head of your department, giving you more creative control over the stories you want to be told, something you’ve worked hard to get. In your own words, you were happy that bitch Janice at your office didn’t get the role, and now she will have to deal with you being her superior.
Logan liked how you smiled from ear to ear after being so accomplished, and when he mentioned he was glad it worked out, the way your face lit up wasn’t overlooked.
Munching into the lamb chop you cooked for tonight, Wade retells the stories of the recent mercenary jobs he’s completed with Logan by his side, throwing innuendos and graphic details of his missions between every couple of sentences. You listened to him talk, drinking your wine and resting your chin on your hand, nodding and providing commentary when needed.
At some points in the conversation, Logan would jump in when Wade allowed him to, roping him in to tell you about the cool shit he can do with his claws. Your eyes sparkled at Logan’s words, hanging on to whatever came out of him and holding it close as if it would be the last time you’d hear him speak. He couldn’t bring himself to deny that having your attention on him felt good, and when he let Wade control the dialogue again, his eyes would stay on you for a second longer, sipping on the beer you saved for him.
He hopes you didn’t notice.
Other times, Logan joined you and Wade on the couch for reality TV and movie nights, something he figured would help him become more of a social butterfly. Though he didn’t always understand the current events of 90 Day Fiancé or Love Island USA, you didn’t mind catching him up on the episode that played despite Wade itching to give out spoiler warnings.
You’d be situated between them on the small couch, the popcorn bowl on your lap, and sharing it with Wade, who wore his patterned PJs. Although Logan was relatively quiet while you watched the TV screen, you’d let him take a handful of popcorn, washing it down with a drink to enjoy a somewhat tasteful combination.
What he didn’t expect from you was how welcoming you were of his touch. Of course, given that the couch wasn’t that large, you’d be hip to hip with Logan and Wade on either side of you. The larger man did his best to stay in his corner of the couch and to manspread less to give you space, but you stayed close to him.
Maybe too close.
One night, his arm slipped from its perch on the edge of the couch, dropping on your shoulder and causing you to jolt from the sudden contact.
“Shit, my bad,” he was fast to mutter an apology, but you were just as quick to shake your head, quelling his worries.
“It’s fine. I don’t mind, really.” You were permitting him to leave his arm on your shoulders, and he wasn’t going to say no to that, the heavy bulk of muscle making a new home over the width of your back.
The fleeting touches persisted when you watched Australia for Wade’s sake, suddenly growing fascinated with the main male character and proclaiming Logan somehow favored him. He grumbled, zoning out of the movie and not realizing Wade had fallen asleep within the first hour. It was just you and him for a while until you also dozed off near the two-hour mark, still with 45 minutes left.
Logan had lost track of the plot within the first 30 minutes, so he no longer cared for the film. He focused on your torso, slowly leaning into his body on the couch, gravitating toward his warmth. Instinctively, he moved his arm on your shoulder, bringing you closer so you were flush with his chest, snuggling against the stability of his figure.
Logan swears he could hear a happy hum fall from your lips in the form of a sigh, getting more than comfortable against the man who had become a new addition to your life. If you were awake, he was sure you could hear how hard his heart was beating inside of him, providing a comforting squeeze to your arm to signal he was still here with you.
For the next little while, he’ll enjoy his current position without qualms, and he can imagine just for a second that this was a part of your usual interactions. This is as close as he’s going to get anyway.
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“You like her.” Wade’s voice filtered through the static noise of Logan’s channel surfing, settling on a Tom and Jerry episode that played in the background, his head twisting to scrutinize the pain in the ass he called a roommate. 
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Oh, you know,” he grinned mischievously, “Honey bunches, you have the hots for her.”
The neurons in Logan’s brain fired at rapid speed as he comprehended what his friend was insinuating. Sure, he liked having you around and looked forward to when you stopped by every week to sit on the couch. He ignores how you smell or breathe next to him or how you don’t mind when his arm is on your shoulder. He doesn’t care that you inch the slightest bit closer to him, hip to hip, eyes still on the screen during movie nights. He dismisses how you look at him, how you smile when he’s in your space, and how his heart skips a beat when it happens.
“No, I don’t." He knew he was lying.
“Really?” Wade’s Cheshire smile broadened, dissecting Logan by the minute. “You sure, Logan? Are you sure your stone-cold skeleton doesn’t melt when you graze your fingers together?”
“What is this? Couple’s therapy? Shut the fuck up and drop it.” Logan’s mask was cracking the more Wade badgered him about his suppressed emotions, and frankly, he wasn’t sure how long he could keep the truth from his friend or himself. 
“Oh shit…Wolvie, you’re in denial. Are you scared of rejection?” Wade covered his mouth in faux shock, taking Logan’s deep scowl with pride as he hit a nerve. “It’s alright, Casanova, no need to be worried about your unrequited love life. I’ve watched enough episodes of The Bachelor and The Bachelorette to put romancers to shame. I will make this happen.”
“Wade. Drop it.” The threat came out with a paired growl, the mutant’s fingers curling into a tight fist as the skin of his knuckles split to unsheath the blades embedded between them.
“This is now a telenovela baby. Just imagine how much we’d make with you two as the leads. ‘Loving the Wolverine.’ The title is a work in progress, but we’ll revisit that later.”
“Wilson.” Logan’s nostrils flared, the metal claws fully out with a sharp schling. The vein in his forehead bulged as his blood pressure skyrocketed from his anger, ready to slice the man any second now.
“You can be angry all you want, but feelings are feelings. And if you don’t say something soon, I fucking will!” The apartment filled with a loud squeal as Logan pierced Wade’s thigh with one hand, the other aiming for his torso, puncturing him through his hoodie.
As pissed as Logan wanted to be towards Wade, he knew he was right. Whatever sentiments had developed between you and him were undefined, and he hated himself for believing there was a chance it could be anything beyond friendly. You were younger than him, a given anyway, with an established life he didn’t want to ruin or get too involved with. Why would you choose him when you could have anyone else?
It wouldn’t work, not in his book. As Logan continued to puncture Wade’s body like a voodoo doll in the name of stress relief, he still had a hard time ignoring how he felt. He doesn’t think he will anytime soon.
His inner turmoil peaked when Wade hosted another get-together at the apartment, and of course, he invited you. He mentioned this would be a chance to set you guys up, and Logan tried his hardest not to shove his claws into his head or ruin the vibe before the party started.
The people closest to the host bustled into the apartment the following Friday night, along with the few new additions brought back from the void. Logan was entertained by talking to Laura and watched the entryway every few minutes to see when you’d walk through it. The time couldn’t come soon enough, the familiar notes of your scent hit his nose the second Wade opened the front door to let you inside, showing the assortment of alcohol bottles you brought to make cosmopolitans.
From where he sat on the couch, he studied your appearance. He raked his eyes over the casual jeans that hugged your thighs and the low neckline of your top, the jewelry adorning your neck brought more than enough attention to the dip of your collarbones.
Logan must’ve been starting too hard when you caught him in the act, your mouth bending up when you noticed him. Without a word, he only smiled at you, drinking his beer to wash down the incessant pounding in his body.
You busied yourself with making drinks in the kitchen, periodically darting to watch Logan while he mingled as much as his social battery allowed. You chatted with the other partygoers, catching up with Vanessa to ask how things were going with Wade and talking to the bubbly Yukio, who stood beside her girlfriend as you joined in teasing the host for the party hat on his head.
Everyone eventually had a red solo cup in their hand, uttering their thanks to you as the influx of a new alcoholic thirst quencher streamed through their bodies. The space to the right of Logan was empty after Laura rose to steal more chips from the dinner table. You took your chance, having a plastic cup in one hand as you strolled over to the gentleman sitting comfortably on the couch.
“That seat taken?” you asked, the bister eyes you’ve come to adore ran over your features, glinting slightly under the hanging light above.
“It’s free now,” Logan jerked his head to gesture you to sit beside him, the smell of your perfume hitting his senses when you walked past him. He swallowed his beer again, hoping it would help curb his growing urges.
“Avoiding me, huh?” The lively tone of your voice conveyed something he couldn’t precisely define despite it making him nervous. “Didn’t get up to say hi or anything…”
“You were busy making drinks for everybody, wanted to have you focused. Don’t want anyone to get alcohol poisoning from fucked up proportions.” You chuckled at his words, rolling your eyes and spinning the ice in your cup.
“Surprised you’re even here. Did Wade force you to stay around this time?”
Yes, he did. That was what he wanted to say, but one glance at your face, and he couldn’t be mad that he listened to the bastard for once.
“Decided to be a little social,” he answered calmly, the tip of his bottle lined up with his lips.
“You? Social? That’s a first.”
“Are you complaining, bub?” he remarked, turning to you with a raised eyebrow and a teasing attitude.
“No, not at all,” you shook your head, giddy in anticipation of what qualified as “social” for the man next to you. “Nothing wrong with trying new things.”
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The world tuned out as you conversed with the older mutant, taking every word in stride. Believe it or not, Logan could talk for a while if you ignore the curse words he adds every other sentence. Still, it was nice to just talk to him, even if your sight wandered. On your second cosmo and probably Logan’s fourth beer, the distance between you on the couch closed with each shift of your hips, leaning into the back of the couch and facing him while he rested against the length of it.
With each passing word from Logan, you watched his jaw flex and his lips part as he spoke—counting the wrinkles of skin beside the slight hints of gray at his temples. You took another sip of your mixed drink, discreetly running your eyes down the column of his throat and his collarbone, peering at the coarse hair that peeked from his flannel’s first two undone buttons.
You didn’t know if he could read the signs of your desires or sense the palpable tension brewing in the air, but you remained willfully ignorant. Oblivious to you, the notion was reciprocated when you spoke, rambling about stuff with your job to bits and pieces of your childhood. Logan’s eyes never left your face, landing on the shimmer of your glossy lips or the pendant that dangled on your chest when you weren’t looking.
In the next breath, the topic changed to something concerning Wade’s most embarrassing instances and jokes that would only come from him. Logan must’ve said something right when you broke out in a fit of laughter, deep and hearty, as it came straight from your stomach and emitted through your chest. He didn’t say anything to disturb your moment, commemorating your eyes scrunching up and your mouth opening wide to laugh harder. He didn’t jolt when you smacked his sternum a few times, the warmth of your touch radiating through the layers of his clothes.
He craved more of it.
“I think you’re spending too much time with Wade. He’s rubbing off on you,” you calmed down from your laughing fit and wiped the tears that threatened to spill.
“Maybe. Gotta tolerate the guy,” Logan was carefree as he spoke despite the stirring emotions.
Your hand was still on his chest, resting comfortably on his body. You didn’t move it as quickly as you should, nor would Logan tell you to take it away. Grazing your thumb over the fabric of his shirt, you whizzed lowly to yourself, the alcohol pumping through your body, loosening your inhibitions as you continued to touch him.
Much to Logan’s disappointment, you pulled your hand away, looking over his shoulder to see Peter showing off the chain that connected his nipples to whatever was underneath his pants. Downing the rest of your beverage, you placed the cup on the coffee table, sitting up straighter.
“I think that’s my cue to leave. It’s getting late anyway.” The nagging voice in your head pressed a question you wanted to admit, an invitation you knew wouldn’t work if asked incorrectly. Thankfully, you didn’t need to speak out loud.
“Let me walk you home,” Logan suggested through the racket, firm and determined in his proposition. “Could use the fresh air if I’m being honest.”
You didn’t need much effort to say yes.
“Sure.” You rose from the couch to say goodbye to everyone, giving kisses on the cheek and hugs when warranted, your last stop being Wade. He looked between you and Logan, throwing the older man a thumbs up as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.
Side by side, you walked down the block, Logan keeping you on the opposite side of the street and serving as a barrier between you and the road. He didn’t reach out for your hand despite the urge to hold you steady, nor did you hold on to his bicep as you strode beside him. But you both talked on your joint stroll, confessing things amongst yourselves that would otherwise be omitted by all the noise.
He followed you through the lobby of your apartment complex, up the flights of stairs that dropped you off on the second floor to your front door. He remained vigilant, standing behind your figure as you inserted your key into the lock, guarding you until your door opened and looming as you spun to face him again.
“Thank you for walking me. It was nice,” you expressed, the cosmopolitans you consumed earlier heightened the glassiness in your eyes.
“Ain’t a problem. It was good to get off the couch,” his hands went to his pockets. “You gonna be alright by yourself?”
“Yeah, I’m a big girl. I can handle a little alcohol,” you snorted, the sound bringing a grin to his face.
As your hazy vision landed on him, he felt the pull in his chest again, the one that comes when time and space stop moving in that beat of silence shared only between you two. He sensed the change in your demeanor, the increased pumping of your heart, and the rush of your blood flowing faster.
Logan halted his breathing when you stepped forward. You preemptively set a hand on his chest and tipped upwards to kiss his stubbled cheek.
“Really, thank you, Logan.” Your serene voice was muted when you said his name, sweet on your tongue that drew him in like a siren’s song. He’d do anything to hear you say it like that again, and again, and again.
“Any time,” you held his gaze, eyes going from his tawny pupils to the tip of his nose and plush lips. He was right there, right in front of you, and the only thing you had in mind was to get a proper feel of him.
There was a jolt of hesitation, taking a step back to get more space between you until you felt the heavy weight of Logan’s palm reaching for your hip. He kept you in place, squeezing your frame and curling his hand to your lower back. Your heart hammered in your ribcage, glimpsing up at him one more time as his head tilted towards you, the only signal you needed to get what you both yearned for.
Your lips landed on his, soft and gentle, testing his reaction. Logan didn’t let you venture too far from him, holding you close and kissing you more fervently, opening his mouth to make room for your tongue as it traced his bottom lip. The groan that reverberated deep within him grew louder when your hands went up to drive through his hair, changing your position to have your back against the entryway of your apartment.
You whimpered when he squeezed your waist, a sound that would haunt his dreams for the next upcoming nights, causing him to push further against you. Your fingers tugged at the collar of his flannel, seeking more of him than you could reach. The metal of his belt buckle pressed into your lower stomach, a faint moan tumbling out of your mouth that Logan hungrily swallowed.
“Do you want to come inside?” you breathlessly invited him as you pulled away, face heated to the touch and body thrumming with a need you didn’t expect. He could read your reactions, almost smell your arousal in the air, but the last thing he wanted to do was fall into the pattern he was familiar with when it came to partners. You deserved better than that, better than just a fun night, even if that’s what you wanted.
“I want to, I do,” Logan tried to say, already noticing your look of disappointment at his upcoming rejection. “But, maybe we can try this again when you don’t taste like fucking vodka and cranberries?” You laughed a bit, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, relishing the tingling sensation left behind from his kisses.
“Thought you didn’t mind alcohol?”
“Vodka isn’t my favorite. More of a dark liquor kind of guy.” Even as he spoke to you, his hands stayed on your body, a reassuring weight you didn’t want to leave your midriff.
“Then you can make it up to me with dinner. That sounds good?” You were cheeky in your response, refusing to let the prospect pass you by, and Logan wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“Yeah, that sounds good,” he warmed at your proposal and accepted one more kiss as he let you part from him.
“I’ll see you around, Logan.”
It was the last thing you said to him before you closed your front door, leaving him in the hallway to deal with the feelings washing over him. He could still discern your heart beating on the other side of the door, probably grounding your breathing and walking further into your apartment. His eyes fell to his feet, mind running a mile a minute and exhaling, deciding to take the longer way home back to Wade and Blind Al.
The apartment was empty when he came back. Althea had fallen asleep in bed, and Wade was busy cleaning up the leftover mess in the dining room. The lopsided party hat was still on his head, brown eyes scanning Logan’s features and analyzing him.
“Well, that was fast. Thought you’d last a bit longer, peanut,” Wade mocked with a grin, detecting the leftover gloss on Logan’s lips and a spot on his face. “I’m guessing Cupid was successful tonight?”
“Not another word,” Logan was back to his prickly mood, murmuring under his breath that he was going to the bathroom to take a piss, locking the door behind him.
He looked in the mirror and noticed the faint shimmer of your lip gloss still on his features, leaving your mark on him without realizing it. He chuckled, smirked wide to himself, and privately enjoyed the remnants of your touch.
He’ll make a note to pick places to take you out in the morning. For now, he’ll appreciate this feeling for as long as possible.
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moonstruckme · 1 month
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Hello hello!! Was wondering if you’d be interested in writing a fic where r loves to cuddle and play around w Sirius in his animagus form, but perhaps he gets a bit too excited and scratches or shoves her too hard? Thought this could turn out super cute 🤭 thank you!
This was so fun, thanks for requesting lovely! I did it with whimsical reader, hope that's okay <3
Sirius Black x whimsical!reader ♡ 1.2k words
When you get home, your dog is waiting for you on the porch. 
“Hi, puppy!” Your delight is obvious in your voice, and he grins at you (can dogs grin? You’re not sure, but this one does) as he bounds down the couple of steps to meet you halfway. 
Your fingers find the spot between his shoulders automatically. His tail starts wagging, snout resting against your forearm almost affectionately. For the past few days, you’ve come home to find this strange dog by your house, seemingly awaiting your arrival, with no collar or caretakers in sight. You’d be worried for him if he didn’t seem so well cared for. His black coat is always shiny and clean, and he doesn’t look underfed like you might expect a stray to be. For only having known each other a few days, you’ve become fast friends. 
“Puppy puppy puppy,” you murmur contentedly, using both hands to scratch behind his ears and all down his back. The dog reacts with a pleased sort of complacence, as though this is the sort of treatment he knows he deserves. It reminds you of something you can’t place. “How was your day? Are you hungry at all?”
Hungry must be a word he knows, because the dog perks up, licking your hand eagerly. 
You beam at him. “Yeah? I have some chicken in the fridge, would you like that?” 
This time, he gives a short bark. 
“Okay, let’s go.” You walk towards the door, patting your thigh for him to follow. “Gosh, you’re just the handsomest boy I’ve ever met. Don’t tell my boyfriend I said that, though. Maybe don’t tell him I’m letting you inside either.” Sirius is a bit odd about having animals in your home; that one time you brought in a snake you found in your garden, his face had gone so white you worried he was going to fall over and hurt himself. 
Your new friend follows you inside and into the kitchen without so much as glancing around, like in your home is somewhere he’s supposed to be. If you get any more attached to him, that might be a case you have to make to Sirius at some point. A dog this lovely just should not be forced to stay outdoors when he’s so comfortable in here. He’s clearly a kindred spirit. 
“All right.” You fish out a skinny piece of chicken from last night’s leftovers, holding it out to him. You plan to lower it close to his mouth, but the dog jumps up, snatching it from your fingers with a click of his teeth. “Oh!” you startle. “Um, good boy.” 
He gives you another one of his signature canine grins, wagging his tail for more. You give him a few more pieces before you cut him off, but the dog seems just as happy being pet, soaking up your praises and rolling over to encourage you to rub his belly. 
“Oh, you’re so sweet, you’re my handsomest boy, aren’t you?” you coo as his back leg kicks excitedly. “Are you the best boy in the whole world, my sweet baby? Okay, fine, one more bite of chicken.” 
You stand up to retrieve it, and the dog rolls over, jumping up to meet you. You squeal as he licks your face, but then his paw slips, short claw marking a harsh line down your collar and chest. He whimpers softly when you flinch, dropping back to the ground remorsefully. 
“Sorry.” You’re not sure what you’re apologizing for, but you extend the piece of chicken as a peace offering. 
The dog tucks his tail between his legs. 
“It’s okay.” You crouch in front of him, still holding out the chicken. “It was an accident. It didn’t even hurt.” 
You could swear that was apology in the dog’s big black eyes as he takes a step toward you. He takes the chicken gently between his teeth, munching on that before licking your hand. 
You smile at him, but when you reach for his head to scratch his ears, he turns and trots out of the room. 
“Hey!” You stand up, watching as he goes right out the open front door, disappearing from sight. You give a weak whistle. “Come here, puppy, it’s okay!” 
The dog doesn’t come back. You sigh, confused and a tad hurt, but put the chicken away and close the fridge. You shut the front door, too, but no sooner do you do that than you hear a key in the lock, and then your boyfriend is pushing it back open. 
“Hi!” Your mood is immediately righted, a light sort of contentedness inflating in your chest. 
“Hey, sweetness.” Sirius runs a hand through his hair, oddly ruffled from a wind you must not have noticed outside. He starts for you, but then his eyes drop to your chest. “What happened there?” 
“Oh, it’s nothing.” You wave a hand, but Sirius’ eyes are sad as he comes closer. The scratch is shallow, not even really bleeding, but from the delicate way he touches your shoulder you’d think you’d been stabbed through with a broadsword. “I was playing with a dog—outside, playing with him—and he jumped on me.” 
Your boyfriend’s eyes flicker up to yours at the fib, something that could be amusement or knowing or both in them, but you tell yourself it couldn’t be either. Then it passes, and his mouth purses sorrily. “Oh, no,” he says, thumb sweeping over your shoulder sympathetically. “Does it hurt?”
“Not really. It just stings, a little.” 
He pouts. “We should probably clean it so it doesn’t get infected. That dog really got you, huh?” 
“I think he felt bad afterward,” you say, letting him pull you towards the bathroom. “It was an accident, he just got excited.” 
Sirius nods ardently. “Can hardly blame him for that. Who wouldn’t get a little overexcited, with the world’s prettiest girl paying them attention?” 
You smile at him, and he slides a hand along your jaw, kissing you. “Still can’t believe the fucker hurt you, though.” 
“Oh, don’t be mean. He’s really a very good dog.” 
“I’m not doubting that, babe. Even good dogs can slip up sometimes.” 
“Yeah?” You tilt your head at him as he smears ointment on your scratch. “I didn’t think you were a dog person.” 
Sirius gives a sharp bark of laughter that turns into a cough. “No?” 
“Not really, no.” 
“Well, I am.” 
“Hm.” You think on this, pondering how you might convince him to let your new friend stay with you (if that happens, you’ll have to actually give the dog a name) while he stretches a thin bandage over your scratch. In your experience, if you ask really very nicely, Sirius tends to be amenable to most things you want. 
“There.” He presses a gentle kiss over the top edge of the bandage. “Like it never happened.” 
You smile and reach for him, letting a piece of silken hair run through your fingers. “Thanks for patching me up, Siri.” 
He grins. “Course, lovely girl. Anything else you’d like to call me?” 
You tilt your head, feeling your brows furrow bemusedly. “Honey?” 
Sirius frowns. He turns and goes from the room, muttering something that sounds like, “...called me nicer things when I was a dog.” 
“What?” you call after him. 
“Nothing, sweetness!”
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I have no idea if you did this already, but if not could you write the spiders reaction to finding out their crush sleeps with plushies?
─ ⊹ ⊱ GOODNIGHT, PLUSHIES
headcanons
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summary their reaction to finding out you sleep with plushies!
request by anonymous
a/n this is a short one sorry!! i’ve been so busy w my summer classes 😭😭 (overachiever core)
warnings none!
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˖   ࣪ 𓂃  1610!MILES MORALES ☆  ׂ  ׅ*
he’s so cute about it! he asks you to introduce him to all of them, asks you what their names are, how old they are, when you got them, where you get them, etc. he would definitely take pics of you sleeping with them and show them to you when you wake up. he would draw you hugging your plushies, but he wouldn’t show you (unless you really asked him to). he would buy you some and you would have one you both own!
“what’s this ones name? and this one?”
˖   ࣪ 𓂃  GWEN STACY ☆  ׂ  ׅ*
first she would be like… what… but then she would see how much you love them and share the love you have for them! she would rearrange them when you’re not looking, add a new plushie to your collection occasionally, that kind of thing. she’s the typa person who would sleep with them as well, despite her tough girl persona. you would lose one, then realize it’s gwen who took it. she always returned it in the end though!
“hey, look what i found for you. another one!”
˖   ࣪ 𓂃  HOBIE BROWN ☆  ׂ  ׅ*
he would tease you about it at first, but then overtime love that you love your plushies. he would walk in on you sleeping and absolutely love the sight he sees. you would go on your rambles talking about your plushies, and he would just silently admire you. he would get you a spider punk plushie, just so that he’s always with you.
“here ya go, a plushie that’s just like me.”
˖   ࣪ 𓂃  PAVITR PRABHAKAR ☆  ׂ  ׅ*
oh my god he’s so excited!! he also sleeps with plushies, so he would introduce you to all of them! he would ask if you could introduce yours to him and he would introduce his to you. you guys would buy plushies for each other and then become the parents to one! he would buy clothes for yours, buy little accessories for them, basically spoil them. he would not shut up about it (in a good way), and always tease you by asking how they are.
“this ones name is chikku! ooo, what’s this ones name?”
˖   ࣪ 𓂃  42!MILES MORALES ☆  ׂ  ׅ*
he won’t stop teasing you about it. whenever you guys are arguing, he would also bring up how you are the one who sleeps with a plushie at night. though, he finds it super cute. he loves what you love, so he has no choice but to love them too. he would buy them for you all the time, occasionally surprising you with them. he now knows what to get you, and it makes his heart flutter whenever he sees you sleeping with the ones he got you. continuation of this
“y/n, you’re the one who sleeps with stuffed animals at night. you can’t talk.”
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TAGS ↣ @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx
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ljubimaya · 2 months
Text
SLUT ME OUT𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
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SYNOPSIS: Does fucking your bratty girlfriend into oblivion help her fall asleep even when her sleep shedule is shit? Draken says yes! C/W: fem! afab! Reader, established relationship, aged up characters (20+ years old), brat! reader and brat tamer! Draken, pussy spanking, orgasm denial, p in v, unprotected sex (keep it wrapped), tummy bulging, cervix fucking, reader doesn't have a great sleep schedule/implied insomnia, mentions of social media (tiktok, Instagram, etc.), no prep, Draken has a big dick, rip your pussy, MDNI!!!! W/C: about 3k A/N: this is super self indulgent and has been on my mind for the longest time :,)) I won't lie, this particular fic took me a while to write for some reasons, but I guess not every fic can just flow out of my brain directly into my google docs. Also, not proofread and kinda chaotic (?)
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DRAKEN had enough. He’d toss and turn, unable to get a wink of sleep. Next to him laid, or rather sat, you, staring at the bright display of your phone watching the newest videos of your favorite creators. You’d scroll, switching between Instagram Reels to Tiktoks to Youtube shorts, trying to get your nightly dose of entertainment before you’d cuddle up to your boyfriend and fall asleep. Insomnia was a bitch and Draken knew that you did your best not to disturb his sleep, but it became glaringly clear that your sleeping habits impacted his. So really, it didn’t do much for him when you lowered the volume as much as you could, or the way you’d try and stifle your laughter at a particularly funny Reel. He was wide away at an ungodly hour with you, but unlike you, he had to go to work in six hours. 
“Babe, you should go to sleep now” Draken grumbled as he turned around to face you “Phone-time is over” Draken reached and grabbed your phone from your grip before turning it off and placing it on his night stand. Once Draken turned back to look at you, the street lanterns barely illuminated the dark bedroom from outside. The blonde’s eyes quickly adapted to the dark, and all he saw was your pouty face glaring daggers at him.
“You can’t just take away my phone like that” you scoffed at your boyfriend “You’re acting like my dad. I’m a grown woman, and I’m more than capable of making my own decisions” Huffing, you tried to reach over the broad man to get your phone back, eager to return to the story time you’ve just watched. But you’ll soon come to find out that your boyfriend is not the right man to disobey. 
Draken caught your hand before you could even touch your phone “Oh yeah, a grown woman? You?” He looked at you with his sharp onyx eyes. You saw an all too familiar dangerous spark in his eyes, a spark that challenged you to defy him. Fuck around and find out.
“Yes, me. Believe it or not, but I’m my own person” you exclaimed, trying to sound as firm as you can. This was dangerous territory, but you’ve walked that path numerous times and oh boy, did you want to fuck around and find out. Not that you didn’t know what would follow - you were certain about what would follow should you keep being difficult. 
You pressed your thighs together, clit throbbing at the vicious glare your boyfriend threw at you “Who are you to even think you can boss me around?” That sealed the deal, you concluded from the way Draken leaned in closer to you. His gigantic form blocked out the window, the only source of light. You weren’t able to see much, but you didn’t have to. Draken was so close to you that you heard his even breathing, smelled the faint smell of the shampoo he used when he went to shower prior to joining you in bed hours ago, but most importantly, you felt him. You felt his rough hands on your thigh underneath the blanket, warm fingers pressing into your soft flesh. But most importantly, you felt his breath fanning  against your lips. 
“Yeah, you are your own person” His deep voice rumbles through the darkness of your shared bedroom, sending a shiver of excitement over your body “But I think you’re giving yourself way too much credit. You may look like a somewhat reliable, mature person, but you’re a brat through and through”
His grip on your thigh grew tighter. A mewl almost escaped your lips, but you didn’t dare make a noise. You didn’t want him to know that you got off to this, at least not now.
“And you know damn well I don’t like being disrespected. I’m not your father, but I am your boyfriend and I won’t tolerate this level of disrespect” Draken’s voice rumbled lowly, his grip on your thigh as firm as before “I’m gonna give you one chance to look me in the eye and apologize, brat” He spat out. The way your boyfriend put so much emphasis on “brat” made you feel tingles inside your stomach. 
You leaned closer to him, looked him in the face - even when you couldn’t see well in the dark, you still knew where to look - and told him with the sweetest voice “No. I’m not gonna apologize for anything. I said what I said” You were about to ask for your phone back, hoping that would make him snap but you didn’t get the chance to. A yelp left your mouth at the stinging sensation you felt on your thigh. You were no longer able to contain your excitement; a lewd moan left your lips as his palm made impact with your thigh. Draken was on top of you, yanking your legs apart harshly, before your mind could even register it.
“Should have known you were being difficult on purpose” Your boyfriend grumbled into your ear, his fingers tracing lines over your clothed cunt “Could have just told me you want me to fuck you to sleep. Would have saved me my nerves”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not being difficult” 
“Liar” His fingers slipped past your panties. A sinful moan left your lips as Draken teased your clit, rubbing agonizingly light strokes over your throbbing bud. His fingers barely touched you where you needed him the most. A part of you wanted to drop the bratty act and ask - no, beg -  him to fuck you, but you already knew that it was far too late to act like a good girl for him. So you committed to the bratty act. 
“I’m not a liar-”
Gasps and moans left your lips as Draken slapped your clothed pussy, making you unable to finish your protests. The stinging pain aroused you even more. You wanted more of him. 
"What was that? Didn’t catch that” Draken grinned wolfishly at your attempts to seem unfazed, but your squirming beneath his calloused hand and the embarrassingly big, wet spot on your panties told him everything he needed to know.
“I said I’m not a liar-” His hand landed on your pussy again. The hard slap sent a jolt through your body, slick seeped out of your pussy and soiled your favorite pair of panties. 
“Hmmm, apologize for lying to me, and I’ll take off your panties for you” Draken’s deep, rich voice rumbled “If I like your apology, that is. Better start begging if you want them off” 
“N-No, I won’t apologize” the words stumbled out of your lips, unable to come up with a snarky comment. Your refusal to beg would have to do for now. 
Another hard slap landed on your pussy once Draken heard your whiney stutter. You mewled at the impact, loving the pleasure you feel from the pain. Your clit throbbed against the fabric of your heavily soiled like a second heartbeat, waiting to be touched again; but as if reading your mind, Draken his assault on your poor pussy. Instead, he roughly yanked your panties off your body, so much so you feared he ripped the fabric. You yelped as he manhandled you, pressed you into the mattress and took your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand. 
You could feel his bulge pressed against your thigh as he yanked your legs apart, making sure to position himself between your trembling legs.  Anticipation washes over you; you felt so excited to feel his fingers stretch you out nicely, preparing you to take his thick cock. You’re already imagining his long fingers pumping in and out, middle and ring finger setting an unforgiving pace as his thumb would be teasing your clit until you’d cream around his digits. 
Instead of thrusting in and out of your weeping hole, his fingers hooked under the waistband of his boxers before pulling them down. Draken’s rock hard dick slapped against his toned abs. Your eyes have adjusted to the little light coming from outside, the cheap lantern lights illuminating the best parts of your boyfriend as you moved your head, desperate to catch a glimpse. 
Veiny, girthy, with a big, angry red tip, leaking precum. Your mouth watered at the sight. Oh, what you’d do to have him down your throat…
You snapped out of your thoughts when you saw Draken give his cock a few, firm pumps before his hand moved back to the base, guiding his leaking tip between your folds. The thought of your boyfriend fucking you without preping you beforehand felt both daunting and arousing to you. Remembering the previous times he took you, you vividly remembered the way his dick would stretch you out uncomfortably despite him eating you out and fingering you beforehand. You could only imagine the damage he’d do if he didn’t prep you. So, your bratty act faltered as you opened your mouth, and hoarsely asked “Baby, what are you doing?”
Lust filled, onyx eyes met yours as Draken heard your small protests, a scowl adorned his handsome face “Teaching you a lesson” He groaned as he teased your folds with his tip “Since you wanted to be a brat about it, I’m gonna put you back in your place like one” Without warning, Draken pushed his bulbous tip inside. 
Tears shot up in your eyes as you bit back a scream, feeling as if you were being impaled by him. You struggled beneath him, struggled to take him fully while he mercilessly forced himself inside you, and struggled to contain your moans bubbling out of your sealed lips. Despite the stretching, burning pain you felt the deeper Draken pushed himself between your walls, you couldn’t deny that you liked it. Your clit throbbed as you got stuffed full of cock, begging to be touched, pinched, slapped.
Sweat collected on Draken’s forehead. He felt somewhat conflicted about not loosening you up properly, feeling that he might be doing too much this time, but the grip your gummy walls had on him made it impossible for him to pull out. He didn’t know if it was either the lack of prep or you loving it that made you so damn tight - almost too tight- for him. Draken was sure of one thing though: he physically couldn’t pull out. He lacked the will power for it.
Lost in his own pleasure, your boyfriend glanced at your face. The nagging voice in his head demanded to know if you were doing okay. Below him, you were a shaking mess. A thin sheen of sweat covered your skin, lips plump and bruised from you biting them, eyes rolled back in sheer bliss and tummy bulging. If heaven was real, it would face in comparison to your blissed out expression, a sweet combination of pained and aroused. 
“Oh, why so silent, brat?” Draken huffed “Where did your smart mouth go?” He groaned as he harshly thrusted the last remaining inches inside your weeping cunt, attentively watching your face. You weren’t able to hold the nasty, loud moan anymore. You tried to hold onto the pillows for leverage, but Draken’s tight grip on your wrists didn’t falter. Panting, you made eye contact with Draken. His scowl has warped into a cruel grin; he looked down on you like a wolf would look at a wounded sheep, ready to devour it. 
“You’re so filthy” Draken mused, chuckling darkly when you turned your face away in shame. His free hand took hold of the bed frame, an action that caught your attention. You squeezed your eyes shut, anticipating a hard thrust out before he’d plunge right back inside you. But he didn’t. Instead, the grip on your wrists grew tighter, making you squeal in pain and look at him, glaring daggers at your boyfriend. 
“Speak when you’re spoken to, brat” Draken growled “This is your last chance. Beg me for forgiveness, and I might be nice” 
And despite his threats, he still saw a flicker of defiance in your eyes. He knew that you’d always be bratty to him, and you knew he knew. 
“F-Fuck you” you meekly replied back, your voice faltering and shaky. You knew you were screwed when you saw the dark glint in Draken’s onyx eyes. 
Wordlessly, Draken pulled out and rammed back inside. The first thrust knocked the air out of your lungs, the ones that followed after knocked your soul out of your body. Draken didn’t hold himself back, the might of his thrusts shook the bed you two shared. The old mattress that you two have been meaning to replace for ages let out loud, squeaky noises with every movement. The thudding, the squeaking, your loud sobs and Draken’s low groans were a guarantee for getting noise complaints in the morning, but neither of you cared; your brain fuzzy from the painful yet delicious stretch and Draken too focused on the grip your pussy had on his dick. 
Draken’s balls smacked against your ass with each merciless thrust, heavy and full with his cum. His tip continuously kissed your cervix, which ended up heightening the pain and pleasure you felt. Feeling overstimulated, you knew you wouldn’t last any longer and come soon. While drunk on your pussy, Draken was still able to think somewhat clearly. He felt the way your walls grew tighter around him and heard the frantic moans that escaped your lips. 
So he stopped right before you could come. 
You whined desperately once Draken stopped moving, trying to grind your hips against him, to create a friction that could satisfy the overbearing heat you felt in your tummy. Much to your dismay, you weren’t able to move a lot with your boyfriend pressing down on you. 
“Stop moving or I will pull out” Draken warned you sternly. He didn’t like having to postpone his own orgasm for the sake of teaching you a lesson, so he hopes he has cracked you down enough to drop your stubborn, bratty attitude. 
A wince left your lips as you heard Draken, your hips stopping their movements. You looked up at him, teary eyed and frowning at his sudden stop.
“You didn’t actually think I’d let you cum after all the badmouthing you did” He scoffed, trying to suppress a grin. Oh, how he loved seeing you so needy. He absolutely loved seeing the real you, the desperate you. 
You’d be embarrassed by the way your resolve broke so quickly, but you couldn’t think straight anymore. All thoughts in your head revolved around cumming on his cock. 
“Please” you whimpered out “Please, I wanna cum”
“Nu-huh. You’ll have to do better” Draken rolled his eyes at you “And you better be quick. I don’t have the whole night”
And just like that, the dam broke. Beginnings and pleadings and empty promises bubbled out of your mouth, each word sounding more desperate than the previous. Music to his ears. 
“I will never disrespect you like that again” You promised, sobbing as you ran out of anything to make him reconsider “I will always listen to you, I will always be obedient” 
Of course, Draken knew that you were throwing everything and saw what stuck; he knew you would go back to your antics as soon as you wake up in the morning. To say he was unimpressed was an understatement. 
“I’ll be good. I-I will fix my sleep schedule” you stuttered out, growing antsy at the lack of a reaction. You’ve run out of what to say to him to appease him “You wanted me to fix it, right?” 
Draken could only scoff at you. What a pathetic thing to say “We both know that’s a lie. You know I hate lies” Draken could see the disappointment in your eyes “And to top it all off, all of those things you’ve said are lies as well”
“But that’s fine. I’m gonna make an honest person out of you” With that, Draken slammed his hips against yours, picking up right where he left off. Screams and cries left your lips as your boyfriend drilled inside you. 
“If fucking your brains out every night is what will make you be good, I will do it” Draken grunted between thrusts. Draken’s pace was unforgiving, his thrusts angled to hit all the right spots. The sudden switch up on his demeanor left you confused, but who were you to question your boyfriend while he’s balls deep inside you?
Draken’s hips repeatedly crash against yours, chasing after his orgasm. He was usually so patient and kind with you, making sure you’d cum before him. This time, Draken prioritized his own high. So he fucked you like a dog in heat until he emptied his balls inside you with a groan. He shut his eyes tightly as he fucked his cum into you, trying to extend his orgasm as much as he could. 
His cum shot inside your womb, filling you up nicely; so much so that the tight knot in your tummy broke. You mewled out his name as you came hard, your legs trembling and your back arched at the aftershocks from your intense orgasm. Your eyes felt heavy, and before you knew it, you passed out from sheer exhaustion. Sleeping soundly, you didn’t notice Draken pulling his dick out. He could only imagine the divine view of his cum leaking out of your pulsing pussy if it was brighter inside the bedroom. 
Despite feeling tired himself, Draken pushed himself off your shared bed and went to the bedroom quietly, making sure you wouldn't wake up. After all, he gave it his all to put you to sleep. He returned -womewhat clean himself- with a wet towel and carefully cleaned you up. Your boyfriend silently watched you sleep, letting the previous events replay in his mind before he laid down and covered the both of you with a blanket. As Draken fell asleep, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of triumph swell up in his chest. He finally knew what would get you to fall asleep, and he was very much intending at fucking you to sleep every night.
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nereidprinc3ss · 9 months
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omg i'm obsessed with the idea of spencer and a university student and i looooved the one you wrote with reader struggling with finals (i relate so much </3) i'm not sure if you write requests or not (if not, then i'm sorry and please ignore this hahaha) but i would love to see more of their dynamic? maybe spencer for once arrives earlier from a case and goes to pick up reader from university as a surprise? i don't really know but i would love to see more 💗 thank you and i hope you have a good day!
AHHHH omg you have NO IDEA how excited I was to open my inbox and see a request!! i am absolutely obsessed w spencer x uni student too
i kind of took this and ran w it so its a little angsty and random LOLOL but here is (drumroll)
spencer picking up reader after you fail an exam (sorry lol) and you are NOT in a good mood but he loves you so its fine
Tears, partly from the bitter wind and partly from shame, blur your phone screen as you exit the lecture hall. Another missed call from Spencer. It’s the third one today—you've been ignoring them in an attempt to remain focused on the final that you just bombed. Part of you now wants to keep ignoring them out of sheer embarrassment. How can you admit to your super-genius boyfriend that you are a bona fide academic failure? Still, you don’t want him wondering about you while he should be working. Your numb fingers fumble with the phone as you try to call him back without running into anybody on your walk back to student housing. 
It doesn’t reach the second ring before he’s picking up. 
“Hey,” he sighs. “I was starting to worry.” 
“I’m sorry, I’ve been busy,” you exhale, cutting through some trees as you approach your building. “What’s up? How’s the case?” 
“Well... that’s actually what I’ve been calling about. We wrapped up this morning.” 
“What? But last night you said it would be at least three more days.” 
“Rare instance of me being wrong, I guess.” 
“So when are you flying back?” you ask, not wanting to get your hopes up. You know sometimes his team stays behind to help with processing a case. He doesn’t reply for a moment. “Spencer?” 
“I’m... thirteen minutes away from your school. Twelve.” 
Your brain short-circuits as you process his words, the cold metal of the door handle biting into your fingers as you stop dead in your tracks. 
“You--are you driving here right now?” 
“Yes,” he begins, sounding embarrassed, “I kept calling because I wanted to ask first, but I know you had your last final this morning and you were going to come over when I got back anyway so I thought you might want to come stay with me for a few extra days. You can say no, obviously—” 
Some of the icy despair melts in your chest. 
“Of course, I want to.” 
“Good,” he exhales a laugh. “It would have been awkward if you said no. Can you have a bag packed by the time I get there?” 
You’re speedwalking through the lobby now, hitting the up button for the elevator more times than is necessarily effective. 
“Drive faster.” 
“Yes, ma’am.” 
By the time you blindly shove enough clothing in a bag, text your roommate to let her know you’ll be gone for the rest of the week, and make it back outside, Spencer’s familiar vintage car is already pulling up to the curb. He doesn’t even bother cutting the engine—just puts it in park and gets out, rounding the vehicle as you close the distance between one another. His smile is brilliant, and though you don’t feel particularly deserving of it, it’s for you. 
“Hi,” you breathe shakily as he loops his arms around your waist. 
“Hi, pretty,” he says, already leaning down to kiss you. It’s soft and sweet over too quickly, but then he’s gently pulling you into him. You drop your bag and bury your face in his jacket, trying to right yourself before you go into an emotional tailspin. 
As usual, he smells like lavender, clove, resinous amber. It makes your head spin. Right away you feel yourself relaxing; feel your guard slipping, like it always does when he’s around. 
“I missed you.” The words are quiet to begin with, muffled further by the fabric of his coat, but you know he’ll hear you. 
“I missed you too,” he murmurs, stroking your hair. “Everything okay?” 
Why are you always surprised when a man who works for the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI accurately analyzes your behavior? 
“Just tired. Can we go home?” You pull back enough to look up at him, meeting his fond—and just a little concerned—gaze, averting your eyes before he has time to discern your... omission of truth. 
“Yeah, angel. Of course we can.” 
He opens the passenger side door for you, making sure you’re settled before tossing your bag in the back seat and circling around the back of the car. 
“Is that coffee?” You say as soon as he slides into the driver’s seat. His eyes dart down to the tumbler in the center cupholder as he buckles. 
“It’s from the jet. You won’t like it.” 
Despite his warning you reach over to grab it, taking a small sip as he puts the car into gear and pulls out of the parking lot. You make a sour face. Spencer glances over. 
“I told you it was bad.” 
You yawn, putting it back in the cupholder. “It was worth a shot.” 
Jazz music plays quietly from the speakers and the heat is blasting, but you’re too busy mentally rehashing question 37 to find it relaxing. 
“You didn’t get enough sleep last night,” he states. Not a question. Outside, the brick buildings of your campus roll by. You wonder if all the students rushing about on the sidewalks and side streets failed any of their finals.  
“Couldn’t,” you mumble flatly, picking at your nails.  
There’s a moment’s pause, and you’re imagining all the things you could have done differently. You’ve never failed a final before. If you’d just studied a little bit harder—if you’d stayed in instead of going out last weekend, if you weren’t so— 
“I’m going to ask you something, and I don’t think you’re going to like it,” Spencer says. 
“Mhm,” you hum, too afraid to speak because your eyes are already stinging again. Honestly, you’re surprised you made it this far without him getting the truth out of you. He offers his hand across the console as you slink down in your seat, and you take it, allowing him to run his thumb over yours in soothing lines. 
“How do you think your final went?” 
You bite the inside of your cheek, the bare branches of the trees outside blurring as you stare unseeingly. 
“Not good. Like, I definitely failed, not good. I'm an idiot.” 
“You absolutely are not an idiot.” 
“You didn’t see me taking the test, Spencer. I literally just sat there staring at it for ten minutes before I even answered one question. It was pathetic.” 
“Did you sleep at all last night?” 
The question takes you by surprise. Your frown deepens. 
“What? I don’t—that’s not—" 
“Just answer the question. Did you sleep at all last night?” 
“Yes!” 
“Don't lie to me.” 
“Fuck you! I slept for like two hours and had coffee this morning!”  
He squeezes your hand. 
“That’s why you failed.” 
The first tear traces its path down your cheek, composure overwhelmed by the confrontation. 
“I hate when you use your stupid interrogation tactics on me,” you say, voice wobbling. And then the crying begins in earnest. 
“I know, baby.” 
His hand moves to rub your back when you let go to cover your face. Torrential evidence of your frustration and utter exhaustion well over, slipping through your fingers despite your best efforts to stop them from coming at all. Having an emotional breakdown in the passenger seat of his car is far from how you’d wanted to greet Spencer’s surprise arrival, but you’re too worn out to mask your emotions—especially when he is so adept at drawing them to the surface. 
A moment passes like that before you take a shuddering breath, raising your head slightly and wiping your cheeks with your sleeves in vain. 
“I should have been able to do it. I just—it was like I was reading the questions and I knew that I should know the answers, but I couldn’t remember anything.” 
“You’re exhausted. Sleep deprivation has an immediate, devastating effect on cognitive functioning levels. My recall and processing speed start to fail when I’m tired, too. It has nothing to do with how smart you are.” 
It makes sense—but it doesn’t make you feel much better. You wanted to ace this exam. Of course, Spencer wouldn’t understand because school was as easy as breathing for him. He barely had to try to get three doctorates. It’s possible, you suppose, that dating a genius has put an academic chip on your shoulder—maybe you’ve set impossibly high standards for yourself.  
After a few minutes the crying finally ebbs, if only because you’re running into supply and demand problems with your tear ducts. You rub your weepy eyes on your shoulder, leaning against the cold window and watching DC go by. 
“You know, the final isn’t as important as you think it is. You’ll still pass the class.” 
“It’s symbolic,” you mumble, breath fogging up the glass. Spencer hums, still rubbing your back. 
“I know. I know it matters to you, but I don’t want you to think one bad grade is a reflection of who you are. Do you understand why it doesn’t make sense to measure something as abstract as intelligence by a metric as one dimensional as a standardized test?” 
“Yes.” 
“Good.” 
You shift in your seat, wiping your face with your sleeve and prompting Spencer to take your other hand once more. 
“Can your FBI friend hack the university database and give me an A?” you ask after a moment, sniffling. 
“Absolutely not.” 
“Pretty please?” 
“Nope.” 
“It’s like you don’t even love me,” you mutter, angling yourself away from him.  
He pulls your hand toward him and presses a kiss to the back of it. 
“I love you so much that I don’t want you to get expelled for academic dishonesty.” 
“It doesn’t matter anyway. I’ll probably just drop out.” 
You both know you’re just being overdramatic, but Spencer has a tendency to be sweet even when you don’t deserve it. 
“I’ll love you no matter what you do.” 
You blush, unable to come up with a sufficient reply. His eyes slide to you briefly and he smirks, clearly enjoying his ability to fluster you, and by extension, get you to shut up. 
“Eyes on the road, genius,” you grumble. But for the first time today you’re fighting a smile instead of tears. 
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lale-txt · 10 months
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✱ confessing to you w/ Gojo, Nanami, Higuruma & gn!reader
@snailor-bee asked: LALEEEEE!!! (o゜▽゜)o♥ WHAT'S THIS I HEAR?? REQUESTS ARE OPEN?? FOR MORE FANDOMS?? You just know I just gotta... May I please request Gojo, Higuruma, and Nanami trying to confess to reader? (*/ω\*) Like headcanons/drabbles whichever. I just think it's real cute. And you're real cute. It just works out perfectly, hehe. Hoping you're doing well!! ;3; Sending you hugs and kisses!!
a/n: BEE my sweet (´⌣`ʃƪ) it feels like forever since i for around writing something for you, so i was super excited when you sent something in for me! i had a lot of fun writing these small drabbles, i hope they're to your liking! ps: i think YOU are super cute love you ok bye
➸ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐: Geto, Toji & Shiu
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❦ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
Gojo is used to being fawned on. He has the good looks and he knows. Keeps running his mouth without any consequences because there simply are none when you’re Gojo Satoru. The strongest. The balance of the world depends on him. He’s untouchable.
And then there’s you, who is tearing his whole act down with such ease, it makes his heart stop.
You don’t fuss over him and you don’t bow before him. His name doesn’t fall out of your mouth as if he was a deity, someone holy; and still it’s the sweetest sound he has ever heard. When you call out for him, Gojo wants to be there in an instant. There’s this unknown calmth whenever he’s with you, his heart feeling lightweight somehow. He’s drawn to you like the tide to the moon.
For someone as grand as Gojo, he loves so quietly. 
He can’t bring himself to say those words out loud, as if they carried a weight that threatened what you two have. Still, he doesn’t know what to do with all this love; he never learned where to put it down. You can handle it, can you? The burden and the curse of being loved? You wouldn’t be scared to love him back, right?
So Gojo makes sure to show you his love in the most mundane things, so there’s no room for doubt just how tight he holds you in his heart. Midnight strolls to the candy aisle at the supermarket. I love you. A hand on the small of your back when you’re moving through a large crowd. I love you. Your fingertips brushing over his long white lashes while he rests his weary head in your lap under the cherry blossoms. I love you. 
It’s only when you kiss him one night, in the middle of the parking lot, that those big words get caught in his throat. Six eyes aren’t enough to comprehend the feeling in his chest when his big hands cup your face, as if he wants to hinder you from ever pulling away from him. It would be so easy to mumble his confession against your lips, but you already know. So instead he simply kisses you back, sweeping you off your feet when you lose your balance from being on your tiptoes. 
He smiles when you shush him with another kiss. He doesn’t need to say it out loud; you know, you’ve always known.
❦ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈
Nanami’s confession is apologetic.
The words have been weighing on his heart until one night, they just fall out of his mouth. Maybe he had one drink too many, not enough to be drunk, but enough to loosen his tongue. His thumb rubbing over the rim of his glass, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, his tie not so accurate anymore. He isn’t looking at you; it’s easier if his gaze doesn’t catch yours, if his eyes can’t wander to your lips. Your hands are next to each other on the bar counter, almost touching. He could close the distance so easily, but he’s aware that he wouldn’t be able to let go of your hand anymore.
“I’m in love with you.”
His voice is low, whisky-raspy. The silence that follows isn’t uncomfortable; it’s a warmth that’s surrounding you like a veil. At this moment, it’s just you and him. In another life, this could have been so easy, couldn’t it? In a life where he doesn't have to worry about fighting curses, and the horrors humans are capable of, and about the day he might not come back home to you from work. He wouldn’t have to break your heart like that.
“So deeply, utterly in love with you.”
In another life, you could have had it all. The shared books on the nightstand, the matching rings on your fingers, the messy blankets in the morning. Maybe he was being greedy, yearning for this. He couldn’t help himself when you tugged on his heartstrings like that. He tried to fight it, this attraction to you; but the more he tried to keep his distance, the more he yearned for a glimpse of your attention. Your bright smile from the other side of the room–it should have been enough. And still…
“I hope you can forgive me.”
Was it really greed that made him cradle your face in his palms, gazing into your eyes before leaning in for a kiss? No… no. But he knows he can never let go of you now, not when he tasted the sweetness of your lips. Not when you kiss him back with such hunger, years of yearning unraveling in this very moment. Not when forgiveness lies on the tip of your tongue, asking to be devoured. All he can do is hope that when his time comes, you’ll let him pick up the pieces of your broken heart and that the light of your love will guide him somewhere south; back to the warmth the two of you feel in this very moment with his lips on yours. 
❦ 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐀
Higuruma has no doubt in his heart regarding his feelings for you. They’re clear as day to him. His heart leaps in his chest when you enter a room and your laughter washes away all of his exhaustion for a bit. 
He studied you from afar for a long time; he can read all of your small gestures and expressions like a language only you and him know. The way your tongue pokes out between your lips when you’re in deep focus, reading over a file from a case you’re working on with him. Your fingertips picking up a tiny piece of lint from his suit before you enter the courtroom together and the small smile playing on your lips when he looks over his shoulder to catch what you’re doing. That one strand of hair that seems to be loose no matter how often you try to tuck it away, much to your annoyance and his adoration. 
“I’d like to ask you out.”
His words are as clear as his intentions. Higuruma is a straightforward man, not brash but gentle in his own way. With him, you don’t have to wonder what's between you two, he’ll tell you what’s on his mind and he’ll expect the same from you. Never pushy, but longing for connection, for mutual understanding. He sees no point in hiding his feelings and he knows you’re clever, you’ve probably had them figured out anyway. 
Higuruma and you have to face them daily, the abysses of the human mind. It’s easy to let your heart go cold over them, to lose a bit of your own humanity. And yet, when your eyes meet, it’s all forgotten. It’s like he can see the essence of your soul and you can see his and it’s all golden; so golden.
You don’t pull away when his fingers weave between yours one night when you leave the office together. He feels a sense of relief wash over him in this moment, not because he was afraid that you wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings, but because his world got a bit brighter in this moment, a bit warmer. He missed this for much longer than he’d admit.
To Higuruma, loving you comes easy. It feels as natural as breathing. It calms him, as if you’re the eye of a storm. And so he doesn’t even hesitate to say those words out loud, almost stating them like a matter of fact, and sealing them with a kiss. Guilty of loving you.
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