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#- so you have as little disruption to your life as possibly'
wwandaslover · 14 hours
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STRANGERS | W.M
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Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x F! Reader
Warnings: A bit angsty, swearing, fighting, short little fic bc I’ve been gone too long
Summary: Wanda’s trying to get her boys back and Doctor Strange comes to you for help, trying to get you to kill your ex wife. Wanda’s not happy that you’re in the way.
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You had been living your life as peacefully as you could ever since Thanos. You quit using magic, you moved across the country to Oregon. It was lonely.. but it was calm. You appreciated no longer having to put yourself under such immense stress, no longer fighting people and aliens, no longer worrying about stupid diets, no longer constantly feeling like you were going to die. It was amazing to be alone despite how boring it was.
You had heard about Westview from the news not long after moving to Oregon, and though it worried you to hear that Wanda was getting to such a horrible point, you couldn’t get involved and part of you didn’t want to. You and Wanda did not end on good terms, Wanda broke your heart. You were staying out of all of that shit, you were finally getting your well deserved lull.
It grew harder to not try and help Wanda the more you heard about her, you were constantly worrying about her wellbeing. Then to your luck, Doctor Strange showed up at your doorstep asking for help and disrupting your peace, telling you he had gone to Wanda and found out she’d been corrupted by the Darkhold, trying to kill America Chavez to go to her sons in another universe. It took him very little time to convince you to help.
He needed your help since you were one of the most powerful magic wielders, yet still not anywhere near Wanda’s level. Despite being stronger than you, Wanda couldn’t absorb your magic when used on her or it could kill her, you were a Green Witch. You wielded earthly magic while Wanda wielded chaos magic, and Strange wanted you to trick her into trying to absorb your magic.
You refused to kill the woman you had loved so dearly, instead you promised to help her. You wanted her to be happy and no longer hurt so much, despite how much you hated her for what she did to you.
+
Standing at Kamar Taj, seeing the dead bodies of sorcerers lying on the ground after Wanda used her magic to kill them all, seeing her walk over them like nothing.. it hurt you to see her now a shell of the woman she once was. Wanda stared at you with an icy glare as she stepped closer, annoyed that you were blocking her path to America.
Wanda laughed dryly “Of course, you’re the one they bring to stop me.”
You took a deep breath, swallowing thickly. Part of you wanted to hug her and the other wanted to punch her as hard as possible. You spoke calmly, “Wanda, I’m here to help you end this madness. I don’t want to fight you.”
Wanda hummed “I’m sure you don’t. You’d rather not die, I’m sure.”
You scoffed softly “I doubt you want to either.”
Wanda sighed in annoyance “You’re right, what I want is my sons. Now get out of my way.” She began stepping closer and you used your powers to push her back.
Wanda snarled and threw blasts of energy at you which you managed to dodge by a hair. Wanda lunged at you and grabbed you by the throat, squeezing your airways shut. You gasped and coughed, gripping her wrist, your eyes wide and full of shock. You kicked her harshly and Wanda instinctively let go.
Wanda stumbled back and shouted at you, “You little bitch, get out of my way!”
You coughed into your arm, glaring at her. Once your throat hurt a little less you shouted back, your voice slightly hoarse “Fuck you! You’re the one acting like a bitch!”
Wanda scoffed “You sound like a petulant child.”
You rolled your eyes at that, annoyed by Wanda’s comments “I have no idea how I put up with you for half a decade.”
Wanda raised a brow “You never complained about me when we were together, so I must’ve been alright.” Wanda pushed you aside and began walking inside the temple.
You caught her wrist and tried to pull her back but it didn’t quite work how you wanted it to, instead she simply dragged you along with her. After a few seconds Wanda looked back at you in annoyance. “Wh- are you seriously not going to let go of me? You know I’m just going to keep dragging you with me.”
You shrugged and tightened your grip on her wrist, trying to plant your feet on the ground but they simply slid over the stones as she dragged you. You got irritated by how your efforts fell flat, so you opted for tackling her. The two of you fell together and Wanda shouted, looking up at you “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
You couldn’t help but laugh as you held her down and Wanda was distraught by the sweet sound. It had been a long time since you laughed like that around her. Wanda swallowed thickly and tried to speak angrily, but sounded more nervous than anything, “Quit laughing! What’s so funny?”
You shook your head, still laughing softly at the situation. “This is all so stupid..”
Wanda’s jaw clenched and she quickly became angry again, mad that you had called it all stupid when she was struggling “I’m trying to get my sons back, how is that stupid?”
You furrowed your eyebrows, your laughter dying out. “I’m not saying that you losing your kids is stupid, I’m saying us fighting is stupid. I also think you’re stupid for believing this’ll work, for believing those boys would just accept you as their mother when they already have one. I mean seriously, you can’t truly believe that they’ll immediately love you, or ever love you for that matter. This won’t go your way.”
Wanda roughly pushed you off and stood up, glaring down at you “Stay out of my way. I don’t want to hurt you.” She began walking away but you used your powers to throw her back to the ground, walking over to her.
“You are not killing that innocent girl! You have no right! She’s just a child, she doesn’t deserve to die, or to go through any of this! Think of how terrified she is!” You yelled at her, angered by her lack of humanity and remorse.
“I need my boys, you don’t understand! You aren’t going to stop me!” Wanda sat up and yelled back, her eyes tearing up. She didn’t want to kill anyone, or hurt anyone.. she just needed her boys.
You stared down at her, wide eyed and in disbelief of how she was acting. “Wanda, you can still have a family in this universe!”
Wanda scoffed and stood up, stepping closer to you “And how on earth would I do that? I lost Vision, I lost my boys, I lost everything!”
Your heart ached when Wanda brought up Vision but not you. You were her first love, and apparently the least important. You ignored your own feelings and spoke, “There’s still someone out there in the world for you, somebody you can love and have a family with.”
Wanda shook her head, wiping away her tears away with a scoff. “I don’t want anybody else, I don’t want other children. I can’t just replace Vision and my boys.”
God, you wanted to strangle her for acting like this. You wanted to be understanding, but she was making it so much harder than it needed to be.
You snapped at her “I’m trying to help you find happiness somewhere in this universe instead of giving up on a life here and ruining a different version of yourself’s life, so quit acting like a fucking idiot!”
Wanda stared at you with widened eyes, surprised that you had actually gotten angry at her. You were usually not the type to get mad, but when you did it was always hard to ignore.
Wanda muttered “Calm down, there’s no need to get so-“
You cut her off by yelling at her “You’re so goddamn selfish! You are condescending, controlling, possessive, overly protective, you are so infuriating and yet here I am trying to help you all because I care about you, and I still love you, but I also fucking hate you at the same time!”
Wanda sputtered slightly, her eyes still wide. Her expression was a mix of concern and shock, concerned because you were so upset, and shocked by what you had just said. You still loved her after four years of being apart.
“Are you serious?” Wanda scoffed. It had been years, you had to be over her. She didn’t want you to keep loving her, especially not after what she had done both to you and other people. She wasn’t a good person and you were.
You scoffed back, mocking her “Yes, obviously, I’m being serious. Can you quit being such a dick now?”
Wanda hated that you were still in love with her, she wanted you to move on and she wanted to move on as well. No matter how much she loved Vision he couldn’t fill the hole in her heart from leaving you. She didn’t feel worthy of your love, or your help, not after what she did. How she left you so heartbroken and then she just went and got together with Vision. She felt horrible for what she had done to you back then, and she felt horrible for leaving you again now, knowing she should immediately go back to you and mend your broken relationship, she could experience happiness for the first time in months, but she wouldn’t.
Wanda thought for a moment and decided to just ignore the whole situation, turning away and continuing to walk. “I’m going to get my boys back.” she muttered.
You watched her with now tearful eyes, your jaw clenched and your breathing turning shaky. You were done trying to help her. You shouted after her, “I’m going to finish this whether you come out dead or alive, Wanda!”
Wanda’s heart hurt from your words, but she kept walking. She still felt great love for you, but she needed Tommy and Billy. She needed them more than she needed anything else, even you. You knew that, and watching her disappear into the temple made your heart squeeze in your chest, you knew you had lost her but you weren’t going to give up on saving America from Wanda.
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I kinda wanna make a part two but I dont know, also I have three other WIPs I’m working on. 😓
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tacticalprincess · 5 months
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OMG OMG this hasn’t left my mind all week but imagine könig finally getting his hands on you and breeding you, telling you how he’s going to get you pregnant and he switched out your birth control pills for placebos!! But he’s speaking in german and you can’t understand him :(( even if you can speak german, it’s in some regional dialect and his accent is too thick!!
it’s times like this where könig is more appreciative than frustrated by your slight language barrier. in his mind, it’s not like he’s keeping his plan a secret from you. technically he is telling you, just not in a way your naive mind can understand.
it’s a win-win situation — you love how deep and husky his voice gets when he speaks german, how dehumanizing it is that he’s talking in a language he knows you can’t understand, and he gets to fill your fertile little womb with his potent seed guilt-free. you don’t suspect a thing, whining out pleads for his cum while his thick tip pierces through your squishy cervix, trying to reach deeper inside you than humanly possible to make sure it takes, your legs locking tightly around his waist. you’re only spurred on by the way he’s gritting out confessions in his mother tongue through clenched teeth, his heavy, full balls slamming against your ass in a way that’s almost painful. come on, maus, it’s like you want this just as much as he does…
he tells you he’s doing you a favor, getting rid of those nasty hormone disruptive chemicals you call ‘medicine’. there’s no reason you should be interrupting the natural way of life, especially not when you have a man so capable and willing to go through it with you. dreams of having you be the mother to his brood, watching you get full and round with his babies, ensuring his place in your life and body forever, infiltrate his mind daily, he can’t focus on anything else. which is why he’s confused about why you’re so distraught when you come to him later, complaining with glossy eyes about a late period. he can’t hide how over the moon he is, and will guilt trip you if you suggest alternative options. why would you take away his right to be a father? don’t you love him?
you’re going to be the best mama, schätzchen. don’t you think so?
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thekeatoncadet · 2 years
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Faye's other childhood friend, Elias! (Or Eli, or Els to Faye and Wes)
They don't have to look that Creature, they simply choose to
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yurmomsawh0r · 2 years
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•°His Perfect Little Wife °•
Nanami turning feral over your submissive domestic ways.
• CW : Nanami being a slightly hard Dom, Rough sex, pet names, impact play [If you squint], Cursing, Cervix touching.
Part 2 here
Nanami Kento was considered a very upkept man. His colleagues could tell you that they have honestly never seen him discombobulated, or angry or disorganized. Some would say he was the 'perfect' man. He always came in with his calm, cool and collected manner. It was envious that he never seemed to have trouble in his life.
Hair combed back, suit clean and pressed to perfection. Coffee, just the way he liked it, in hand and all documents organized in folders, perfectly set so that he could have a perfect day without any disruptions to his continuous everyday cycle. They always asked him how he did it. How he was able to always have a smooth, uninterrupted day.
And to put it in the most simplistic way that he could, he always replied with a very simple answer. You.
Now to most of his colleagues, they couldn't quite understand what he would mean. How could a simple housewife, who possibly did nothing at home, make sure this very successful man had a perfect day almost every day.
Nanami, of course, never went into detail. Men were greedy, especially these men. He would never give them the many details about how you always turn him into the most discombobulated man ever by just being a good wife.
Even now, his cock was straining in his suit pants with a never ending need for you. You were so on schedule and so on point for him. Always getting up at 6:30 to get his clothes and suit case ready, soon after, starting his breakfast so that by the time he's out of the shower, you both can eat together.
Making his lunch and filling his thermos with coffee so he can take it to work with him. He loved that he never had to take care of the small things in life. You made it easier for him to focus on the bigger picture. You made it easier for him to take care of you. He always made sure that you were well taken care of and the simple fact that you took care of his home, even his smallest of needs, made him work harder to please you.
You were perfect. You were his.
He would've never considered himself a possessive man, but that was until you entered his life, and as much as he would love to brag about you and show you off, something in his just wouldn't allow him to share anything about you. Of course you've been seen with him on occasions, but Nanami never brought you up if he didn't have too. And when anyone would ask about you, specifically a male, he would always give cold answers, his irritation growing quickly.
Apart of him hated you for how out-of-place you made him feel, and that pent up aggression would always be released upon your soft body.
God, your body. He loved how soft you were compared to his rough and hard one. He loved the way his hands sunk into your flesh. Your plump thigh that he loved to grab and squish.
The fullness of your tits (small boobs can be full too!) ,down to the plumply flesh of your ass.
But his favorite was the soft, delicious set of lips that you held between your legs.
"Nanami? You alright there bud?" He didn't realize he had spaced out. Mostly caught up in his head over all the things he would do to you when he got home. He was sweating but his face kept a stoic expression, but no doubt he knew they knew.
For the first time in years, they had just witnessed Nanami acting out of place. Anger silently crept and soon you were going to be at the end of it's wrath.
It was your fault for being so perfect.
Looking at the clock, Nanami quickly grabbed all his stuff, stuffing whatever he could into his briefcase, before he left without saying another word. Gojo cackling in the back ground at his sudden lack of composure. If anyone knew about how you made Nami feel, it would him.
Quickly getting into his car, he sped off, racing home to you.
There you were. Slaving away over the hot stove, just too have a nice dinner ready for when he got home. Sadly it wasn't ready as Nanami didn't have to come home for another hour.
He stood there watching you move back and forth. Seasoning whatever meat you decided on for tonight.
You were in a pair of black booty shorts and a regular sports bra that nicely lifted your breast. He couldn't help but give you a once over. Shamelessly letting his eyes fall down your legs then back up, stopping at your ass, before his eyes landed on the back of your head.
Some would say he's being creepy but to him, he was just admiring the woman who chose him to be her husband. You were his and he was going to look and appreciate your beauty whenever he could.
Blood rushed to his groin making him grip his hard-on. It was so hard and ready to be seathed in his second home that resided in the neighborhood of your legs. He thought about the many times he had came home to ravish you. Bent over the bathtub that you were cleaning. On top of the washer machine as you did his laundry. Over the table you had just set for dinner, shit, he fucked you all over the house.
You were unaware that your husband was home. To busy fixing dinner and finishing the rest of your chores to notice. It wasn't until you had bent over, opening your oven to place the stuffed chicken inside. It was faint, and if you could identify the sound it would've been the faintest sound of a zipper pulling down.
You shot up, quickly turning to face the noise. Your breath hitched seeing your husband home so early. "Hi honey, how was work?" You asked, glancing at your phone to check the time.
He was about 45 minutes early which was unusual. When he didn't respond, you faced him again with worry. "What's wrong baby?" A pout graced your lips as you caressed his sweaty face.
"Oh my God, your hot and sweaty! What happened?" Panick filled you. Your husband was home early, not responding, hot and sweaty. You've never seen him like this unless he –
Wait. . .
You glanced down at his undone suit pants, he dick already out and throbbing with need. You could clearly see the shiny bead forming at his tip.
'Fuck' you thought to yourself, 'he's never come home like this before. What the hell happened.'
You lift your gaze to meet his eyes. A soft gasp left your lips. You knew this was serious, seeing as his glasses were already off. No time to think, a hand gripped your throat. A squeal leaving your lips at the same time your arousal started to leak. As if your body was reacting to his. The same intensity, the same heat.
You could feel sweat start to form under your pits as well as your forehead. Nanami placed his warm lips against yours with so much passion. Sucking and biting them. Tasting them like it was his last meal. He backed you into the nearest counter, picking you up but your fat and placing you on top of it. Slowly making love to your tongue with his, he let his other hand drift to the inside of your panties. Finding your little pleasure nub, rubbing with just enough friction.
"Ah!" You moaned out only for it to be caught abd muffled by your lust-filled husband. Nanami felt your slick gathering — hiding behind your folds and sliding down to your entrance. He took this chance to plunge his two middle fingers inside your wet cavern, quickly finding his favorite spot to play with.
"Ohfuckohfuckohfuck!" You couldn't help but break from his mouth to wail out profanities. He was fucking you so good with his fingers that you already had the urge to cum.
Clenching and un-clenching in a repeated cycle over and over again. "Are you gonna cum for me baby? Yea?"
"Yesss Nami! Fuck!" You screamed, making him chuckle. He loved that you were being compliant today. Usually he would have to pull it out of you, but today was different. She knew he needed control. She knew he didn't need anything to make him feel worse than he did.
He had lost control today, and you were going to let him fuck you to get it back. To help him sate his lust and find composure. First he needed to hear you.
"Who's pussy is this baby?" He thrust his fingers deeper in you, but at a slower pace. pushing you to the edge but not over. "Pleaseeee Nami! You know it's yours!"
He sent a smack to your back side. "I didn't ask what I know, I asked you who's is it my pretty little wife." Nanami pressed a quick kiss to your lips before you had a chance to deepen it, making you whine for him.
Sometimes you hated when he acted like this, you hated not getting what you wanted, and that was rare, but the other side of loved his torment. You loved knowing that you were the only one who could make him this way. "It's yours daddy."
"You're such a good girl, and do you know what good girls get?" He spoke to you in a deep husky voice. You loved it. You loved how it made you feel.
Your pussy throbbed around his finger and your pretty sure he felt it. "Good girls get to cum." He smirked, working his fingers faster and faster and faster until the damn broke.
"Ahhh yesssss!" You pulled him closer to you as your hips undulated with every thrust of his fingers. Nanami felt his hand drenched as your essence shot from your swollen wet pussy.
"You made such a mess baby, see? Look." Taking his hand, he smeared your juices on your face before pulling you into a sloppy kiss.
You didn't even have time to catch your breath before he did. He pulled you down from the counter, turned and bent you over the same said counter top. Folding your arms behind your back, he plunged his hot dick inside your spasming cunt. "Ah! Nami! Be g-gentle!"
But he doesn't. Instead he fucked you harder, faster. Deep calculated thrust that penatrated the deepest parts of your canal. Every thrust caused you to stand on the tips of your toes. He was hurting you, yes, but it was a pleasurable pain. A welcomed pain.
He pressed his cock into your cervix as he was fully seathed inside you. He was fueled by every 'ugh' and 'ah yes' you made. Driving deeper into you just to hear you scream 'Daddy!" Everytime.
"Please daddy! It's too deep, it hurts!" You cried out. Your pussy was pulsing as you came, and he was riding your wave to his peak. No matter how much you wanted him to come, he took his sweet time getting there. He loved hearing you beg, to scream his name.
He was feral, and it was all your fault.
With a few more quick thrusts, he stilled himself, shooting his warm seed deep into your womb. You felt it coating your insides — even spilling from your throbbing heat.
"Whew. . ." You felt your husband's breath on your back. He was breathing heavy. He rubbed up and down your back, caressing your asscheeks whenever he could.
"Sorry my precious little flower. I promise to make it up to you."
And he would. How could he not. You were his precious little wife.
And he loved his precious little wife.
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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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sillysiluriforme · 2 months
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That one post, about how everyone has an akuma mark- that wouldn't be the case, and if anything that makes it worse. An akuma (or two) a day for several years is 1,000 people, maybe 2,000. Paris has a population of 10 million. So not that many people. But consider the suffering. Being a non-akuma'd person knowing your life is forever changed, possibly in quarantine forever, all because a small handful of people couldn't keep calm. (we know it's not their fault, but blame must land somewhere and hawkmoth is distant and unseen...). To watch as your future, or your children's future crumbles, because no one in or out means limited opportunities. There'd be riots (and more akuma possibilities). But to be one of the targeted? To have the suspicion (because akumas do strike twice, thrice, or more...) and the blame (if you'd just stay calm, if you just said no...). To lose an entire day of your life, watching as everyone you loved looks fearfully or angrily towards you (what did you do? what did you say?), to lose your job (what if it happens again? or was it because of your job?). To watch everything get worse, because of course: Any disruption to Paris would be Catastrophic. The paris region produces a GDP of 1 TRILLION dollars. 1/3rd of France's GDP. A day's disruption could cost billions of dollars. Even if property gets repaired, time still moves forward- a day not worked is a day where things dont get done. Things like road maintenance, court dates, repairs to water pipes, electrical generation, surgeries, and so on. Critical workers would need to get a suicidal level apathy towards akumas, because if they stopped work everytime one appeared then lives would be lost to power shortages, lack of medical care, and water. All the traffic supplying goods every day- even if they don't get inspected going in or out, any changes to that would raise prices in a heartbeat. Refrigeration becomes unreliable, as powerlines could be cut whenever. Education goes rock bottom, as who can focus when something's happening every day? Desperation rises, as there's nowhere to go, goods are more expensive or unavailable, jobs are in short supply because so many places go out of business, or outright leave.
God, forget the holders, forget the akumas, forget the reality warping little-g gods, the sheer decay of Paris would be enough to make this AU nightmarish. If Paris remains under akuma quarantine for long enough, the effects would become exponential. As businesses leave, the money disappears. Goods become critical, as a city that big needs an entire nation to feed it (but without the money, who would bother selling to Paris?). Infrastructure becomes abandoned, as cost cutting and triage prioritizes only critical locations. The government moves elsewhere (how could they function otherwise?) taking jobs, money, and focus away from the city. Homelessness, joblessness, poverty become the norm, as with inconsistent power and deliveries, how can businesses operate? Hawkmoth is murdering the city of love, over his own doomed love.
Paris becomes a colossal burden on the french economy, a nightmarish battleground and a looming threat to the world. The country is left with a hellish choice: Let the city sink on it's own, or be dragged down with it?
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[YOU FUCKING GET IT ANON. YOU EXACTLY GET IT.]
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repulsiveliquidation · 6 months
Text
Wake Up Call || Jessie Fleming
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warnings : this is pure smut. somnophilia (consensual fucking while asleep), strap-on, anal fingering, pussy-eating. enjoy.
summary : jessie comes home to you having some vivid dreams. a good girlfriend always helps their girl in need.
Jessie walked into your shared apartment at 5 am, having flown into London at the last minute to surprise you. She crept in and greeted Milo your dog, giving him lots of pets to try and keep him from barking in excitement and waking you. She dumps her bags at the door and leaves her shoes at the door which she knows she’ll get reprimanded for in the morning but that’s something for her to deal with later.
The door is a little ajar and the bathroom shines a sliver of light into your bedroom. The fan is on high and the AC hums just a touch.
She looks towards the bed and smiles. There she was, the person whom she was sure her bones missed. You looked so peaceful, nose and cheeks lit by the light from the bathroom. They were tinted a little red from the cold room and Jessie turned it down a little. The sun was coming up just a touch in the distance and she knew that you would be up for work soon.
There was a book on the bed face down and she noticed her pillows cradling your head instead of your own. You had her ratty UCLA shirt on, hair tousled from sleep. Your mouth was slightly open and your breath steady. Nothing made her heart swell more than seeing you sleep so peacefully.
She tried to make as little noise as possible getting herself ready for bed, brushing her teeth, and throwing one of your sweats and t-shirts on before standing at the foot of the bed with a little smirk on her face.
She stared at you, watching your body. You had been making noises while she took the fastest shower in the history of man, whines, and whimpers coming from your lips that weren’t exactly soft.
Your hips ground into the soft mattress.
Your hands gripped the silk sheets tight.
Your eyebrows furrowed in frustration.
Your lips moaned only one name.
Jessie.
You were having a wet dream.
About your girlfriend.
A good girlfriend took care of her girl’s needs, didn’t they?
Jessie was no longer dog-tired. No, that warm shower made her sleepy but the sultry sound of your voice moaning her name was one that she admits she missed. The phone sex was great but the mics never picked up on the soprano and alto tones of your voice that drove her crazy.
Jessie stood in front of her bedside drawer with her hand on the knob for a solid 30 seconds, debating if she should do what she impulsively wanted to do. You’ve said yes to what she was about to do but she didn’t want to disrupt your sleep.
“Fuck it,” Jessie mumbles to herself, opening the drawer a little too aggressively to pull out her strap. She also notices the lube running low and smirks to herself, putting a reminder in her head to ask you about it later.
She settled the harness comfortably over her hips and threw her shirt off, crawling onto the bed. Jessie smirked and listened to your moans.
“Please Jessie,” you begged, shifting to the middle of the bed with your leg pushed up. Perfect.
“I know darling, just a minute sweetheart,” Jessie cooed, pushing your shirt up and kissing down your back softly. She bit her lip and got a little shy at the sight of a wet patch on your grey underwear, hooking her fingers on the thick band and pulling it off. Your hips lifted for her and for a second she thought you were awake but you only whined a little more and your eyes were still shut.
Her thick fingers dragged themselves through your slick folds and she smiled to herself, lathering what she gathered all over her cock. She sat on your leg and used her hand to keep your leg wide open for her. Her cock was thick and long, one that you took with ease and it never failed to make Jessie wetter than she had ever been in her life when you bottomed out on it.
“Easy baby, there you go angel,” Jessie muttered to herself more than you, guiding her cock right into your aching pussy. It swallowed her up and fluttered a little when she bottomed out, Jessie swore she saw you smirk a little in your sleep now that you were filled. She gave you a couple of seconds to adjust before taking matters into her own hands, hovering over you to thrust gently.  She knew you liked being asleep for as long as she could keep you that way, wanting nothing more than to wake up with sticky underwear and soreness that you could’ve sworn you didn’t go to bed with.
“Jessie,” you moaned, hips rolling back into her as she thrust slow but deep. Jessie tried her best to keep her composure but the way your ass looked and the little whine in your voice almost begging for her broke her focus.
She grabbed your hips and thrust in deep. She moaned as she fucked you, rousing you from your sleep. You were a deep sleeper, nothing could wake you in the mornings sometimes Jessie often resorted to a spray bottle with water she labeled with your name.
“You like that baby?” Jessie asked your sleepy form. She leaned over and pressed her lips to your ears, her Canadian accent slipping through as her hips picked up speed.
“What, is that what you pussy needed darling? Needed me to fuck your needy pussy, is that it?”
Your eyes shoot open and you struggle a little before realizing it’s Jessie, balls deep inside you fucking you awake.
“Jessie!”
“Been saying that a lot tonight, doll,” Jessie teased, kneeling behind you and gripping your hips to grind into you gently.
“When did you get back?” you ask, arching your down onto the mattress. Jessie audibly groans, thrusting a little faster.
“An hour ago,” Jessie answered, fingers digging into the meat of your hips. There were white streaks where she held you too tight and it sent a rush of blood that left a sultry tingle in your thighs. Jessie pushes you down fully, legs extending between her legs in a prone position. She pulls out and scoots down, spreading your ass and exposing your pussy. The sun is brighter now, light shining perfectly to cast an orange glow on your core. Jessie digs in, sloppily eating you out to her heart’s content. Her hands knead the flesh of your ass as she moans in pleasure, heart happy to have your taste on her tongue again.
“Fuck I missed you babygirl,” Jessie mumbles as she kisses up your back. You felt her cock poke at your entrance again and like a seamless machine your hips pressed up into her just as hers fucked into you. You both sighed deeply and you turned to look at Jessie, nodding for her to let loose.
“Use me, Jess,” you begged in your best slutty voice, “fuck me like you mean it.”
“Yes ma’am,” Jessie smirks, sitting on your thighs and fucking your pussy hard. She gives you no room to breathe, hips pounding deep into your cunt. Jessie gathers your hair into a ponytail and pulls you up by it, spanking your ass as she ruts deeper into you.  
“Use you like this, sweetheart?” she teases, letting go of your ponytail and pulling out again. She steps off the bed and pulls you to the edge, folding you onto your knees and pushing her cock into you swiftly.
“Yuh–yes!” you scream, feeling her cock thrust right into your sweet spot. She relishes in your vulnerability, angling her hips right into your bundle of nerves.
“Such a good girl, doll. Taking my cock so well,” Jessie praises, thrusting roughly into your pussy. She pulls out just a little and spits directly onto your asshole, two thick fingers pushing themselves into it.
“Fuck!” you moan, gripping the sheets tight. Jessie plants a foot on the bed and fucks her cock into you hard, fingers alternating with her hips. She spits into your winking asshole just a little more before pushing her fingers in, moaning as you take it so effortlessly.
“Just one question, my perfect girl,” Jessie begins, thrusting slow but deep into you. Her fingers in your ass scissored you open, a third finger forcing its way in as another blob of spit joins it.
“Fucked yourself on my cock plenty while I was gone?”
You look back at Jessie, the sun casting a glow around her toned body as your orgasm tugged at your navel. Jessie’s hips never once slowed down, her soccer stamina proving to be useful in scenarios like this one.
“Did you?” she asked, fucking into you hard and fast now that she knew you were getting close. She spanked your ass just as you screamed out your answer, cumming all over her cock and rhythmically clenching on her fingers.
“Fuck Jessie,” you breathe out as she pulls out and takes the harness off. Just as she’s about to pick you up and take you into the bathroom, your alarm goes off. She turns it off and smiles, pulling you into her arms.
“I think a day off is in order, princess.”
“Only if you give me the biggest kiss ever.” 
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eddiesxangel · 3 months
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Noisy Neighbours | E.M
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Summary: Eddie has no idea what he’s getting into with the two new girls next door.
An: HAPPY PRIDE 🏳️‍🌈 this is my first fic like this so im hoping you’ll like it! Today is my birthday and I wanted to do this as my little gay gift to you! And shout out to @xxbimbobunnyxx for listening to my deranged horny thots throughout writing this 😘💋
Cw: f!reader x f!readers girlfriend x Eddie. Reader and of gf are bi/pan/ whatever you want them to be. Threesome, oral ( fxf + fxm) fingering, , 69ning, ass play ,p in v.
4.3k words
Eddie felt a surge of frustration and disappointment when he learned about the impending arrival of new neighbours that would be moving in directly beside his apartment. Despite the several vacancies in the building, the landlord, Gerry, opted to place the new tenants next to Eddie. This decision left Eddie contemplating whether Gerry held a personal grudge against him, possibly due to his occasional late-night guitar solos that may have disturbed the peace of the building.
Eddie had grown accustomed to the absence of tantalizing food aromas wafting from his neighbour's kitchen and the absence of music that he imagined others endured. He found solace in the cozy life he had built for himself in apartment 3A. However, the impending arrival of new occupants in 3B threatened to disrupt the tranquillity he had carefully cultivated.
Eddie changed his tune the second he got wind of who his new neighbours would be. When he had seen the moving truck out front through his window, his eyes almost popped out of his head. Eddie watched and waited as one of the hottest girls he’d ever seen get out of the driver's seat; he soon learned her name was Sabrina. He continued to watch, his eyes begging him to blink but he couldn’t move as he watched you hop out. You had giggled at something at what the bombshell blonde said. His jaw hung open, and his tongue almost hit the floor like a cartoon character as he ogled you as well. The set of you sure was a sight for soar eyes. What karma Eddie had was finally coming for him, and he was so grateful.
Eddie felt he had to introduce himself, it was a neighbourly thing to do.
After two days, he worked up the courage to knock on the door of 3B.
“You expecting someone?” Your girlfriend pops her head up curiously. You’re both cuddling on the couch, exhausted from unpacking.
“Nope,” you emphasize the p sound.
She shuffled up and opened the door. “Oh, hello,” you could hear the smirk in her voice, and your morbid curiosity took over, needing to see who stood on the other side.
“H-Hi,” you hear a deep voice. "I'm Eddie.” He sounded hot. You quickly get up off the couch and make your way to where Sabrina stood.
“Who’s this?” You caught sight of the man before you and gave a small smile.
“This is Eddie; he lives next door.” You grab onto your girlfriend’s waist as she speaks.
“Hi Eddie, it’s nice to meet you.” You smile genuinely.
“Pleasure is all mine.” His eyes scan your body; you’re in tiny sleep shorts and a baby tee with no bra.
“Do you want to come in? I think we have something to drink around here.” Sabrina offers.
“Oh no, I can’t impose, I-uh… just wanted to come to say hi, but another night when you’re settled.” Eddie is trying so hard not to stare at both sets of tits laid out for him. The fabrics of your shirts were so thin he could see each of your nipples. And he can tell the AC is working, to his pleasure.
“Okay, Eddie, it was nice meeting you.” You both smile and shut the door.
The second the door closed, you both gave one another a knowing look. He's hot.
🏳️‍🌈💖💜💙♀️⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖🏳️‍🌈💖💜💙♀️
You run into Eddie sometimes on the elevator, but you still haven’t had time to coordinate a time to have that drink.
Eddie will see you leaving and Sabrina coming, or vice versa. He figured it was a pretty sweet deal for you two to set up, each having your own space but maintaining a good friendship.
You’re both quiet and listen to decent music. At least one of you is seemingly an amazing cook because the food smells delicious each time.
He hasn’t thought much of how touchy the two of you were when he first met you. He was too focused on not getting a stiffy while meeting the both of you for the first time. He scolded himself for turning down Sabrina‘s offer for a drink, but he didn’t think he could conceal the ever-growing issue in his sweats.
It’s been a month since you and your girlfriend, Sabrina, just moved into your new apartment. It wasn’t much to boast about; sure, the wallpaper was ugly-but the rent was cheap, and so far, you haven’t seen any critters crawling around, so that was a huge plus.
You wished your schedules were more aligned, but with Sabrina’s new job and yours, life had gotten a little hectic. You’d hardly seen one another until tonight.
Tonight, you both ensured one another that it was date night. You haven’t had the chance to spend quality time with one another since you moved in, but that changes tonight. You will wine and dine and get that much-needed time together…
Sabrina and you are stumbling over your heels, trying to balance yourselves as you make your way through your front door without trying to break the kiss. It’s hot, it’s needy, and god, you missed her like this.
Her long, soft hair is tangled through your fingers as you pull her into you for more. You don't want to mess it up because she looked so pretty and spent so much time on it but that went to the wayside when she let out a soft moan.
You can feel Sabrina’s emerald green slip dress rub between your fingers as you grip her by the hip. This dress has been teasing you all night, and you can't wait to get it off of her.
Your lipsticks are smudged, but none of that matters because they’ve created a beautiful new pink colour on both of you.
Stumbling through the hallway to your shared bedroom, you land on the bed with a squeal as your girlfriend crawls on top of you.
“Oh, baby!” You let a moan a little louder than usual; you and some cocktails were starting to take effect- not that you needed alcohol to loosen up, but it definitely made you more vocal in the bedroom.
Her perfectly manicured hands trailed up your inner thighs and under your mini skirt, brushing over your bare cunt.
“No panties?” She whispered. “Naughty girl, hiding this from me all night.”
“Baby, please, I want you so bad.”
“Don’t worry, pretty girl, I’ll take care of you.” She sinks down, her glossy wet lips make contact with your pussy and you let out a cry of pleasure.
🏳️‍🌈💖💜💙♀️⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖🏳️‍🌈💖💜💙♀️
Just as Eddie is ready to fall asleep, he hears a sharp squeal through the paper-thin walls of his bedroom.
Maybe she saw a spider? He almost called out to see if you're okay, but-
“Oh, baby!”
Ok, maybe not a spider…
A pang of jealousy shoots through Eddie's chest. He wanted to be with the one to be on the other side of his wall. It didn’t matter what roommate it was; he wanted both of you.
Eddie listened and waited to see if he would hear anything more, but it was silent for a few minutes. Maybe Eddie was hearing things?
“Your pretty little clit is so puffy, begging for me to suck on it.”
“Baby, please stop teasing!
Nope, he heard right.
Eddie can’t help his curiosity. He presses his ear up against the wall to listen.
“Yeah, baby, just like that! Such a good girl f’me- OH YES!”
No way this was happening right now? No way he had the two hottest neighbours on the planet, and they were fucking?
"Sabrina!"—"Good girl, y/n say my name.”
Yes. That was 100% what was happening on the other side of the wall.
Both you and your girlfriend’s filthy words and moans fill Eddie's silent room, and he can’t help but touch himself. It was impossible to not be turned on. He can picture the both of you, how one is spread out under the other- Or maybe one of you has their ass in the air and is getting eaten out from behind? Or maybe you’re pussy's are rubbing together?
The sounds mixed with the images Eddie is mustering up in his own head have him whimpering and moaning. No longer aware of the fact that since he can hear you, you can hear him, he gets lost in it as he fucks his fist.
Eddie’s moans fill your bedroom as you’re about to go down in Sabrina. She’s on all fours facing the wall where Eddie’s bed lays on the other side. She quickly crawls up closer to get a better listen.
You follow suit and kneel beside her. “He’s so hot I want him to fuck us,” you pout.
Sabrina turns to you with a mischievous grin on her face, and you can’t help but lean into her touch. She starts twirling a piece of your hair. “Oh, my baby wants that pretty boy next door? I’ll get him for you; good girls always get what they want.”
“I'LL DO IT,” Eddie immediately blurts out, not realizing you don’t know he can hear you.
“What the?” You gasp.
“Eddie?” Sabrina taps on the wall like she knocking on a door.
“Yeah,” he answered, and you giggle.
“You naughty boy, have you been spying on us?” You giggle again.
But there was no answer. You wait a few more seconds before repeating his name, but you’re both startled when you hear a knock on your front door.
You both quickly get off the bed, not bothering to put on clothes and look through the peephole to ensure it’s him.
He stood in the hallway in only his boxers hands in front of his boner, as if that would do any good at hiding it.
Sabrina opens the door and you quickly grab him and pulls him inside before he could say anything and before anyone else could see you.
“Holy shit” his bold brown eyes go wide when he sees the pair of you standing there naked in front of him.
“Did you like listening to us?” You ask.
“Yeah,” he nods his head dumbly.
“I bet you did. You’re so nice and hard.” You both look down at his cock strained against his boxers.
“You wanna play with us, Eddie?” You ask with your voice, which is so silky and sweet. Stepping towards him, your fingers trace their way down his arm moving it from where his hands cup his cock so you can graze it yourself.
“Fuck yeah” he pants.
“Come” Sabrina takes his hand and you take the other and you both lead him to your shared bedroom.
I can’t believe this is happening Eddie thought.
“Better believe it, big boy”
Oh shit, Eddie didn’t think he said that out loud.
Eddie falls on the bed and watches as you and your girlfriend crawl up into the bed and hover over top of him.
“Like two goddamn succubus,” he lets out, and you and Brina can’t help but giggle.
“Oh, this is going to be fun.” Your girlfriend looks to you.
You lean in to give her a kiss as Eddie watches from below. His cock still growing by the second; it was like he was watching a live prono.
Nerves suddenly flooded Eddie. What was he allowed to do and not do? Would he get to fuck either of you? Maybe just one? Maybe none? Maybe you’ll only make him watch. Not that he minded, but go, he needed to fuck at least one of you.
“I think we’ve teased Eddie long enough.” She spoke as her hand grazed up Eddie’s cock.
“I’m sure he’s more than ready for us, don’t you think?” you counter.
Eddie lay there propped up on your pillows, too stunned to speak. He didn’t even know where to start. His mouth was getting dry and he did not want to fuck this up.
“What do you?-what can I?” His hands pointed between the two of you.
“You can do whatever you want to use, Eddie.” Brina took a loose tendril of Eddie’s hair and twirled it around her finger like she did with you; all the while, you were starting to remove his checkered boxers from his hips.
“R-really?”
“Tell us what you want, sugar.” She purrs.
“I wa- I want to fuck you both.”
“Oh, tell us more” You plant a kiss on his upper thigh, moving towards his hard cock, which is painfully being neglected.
“I want to watch you fuck each other.”
“Mmmmm, that’s so hot.” Brina moaned before moving down to where you are and taking Eddie’s cock in her light grasp.
You make your way up Eddie’s body by kissing him inch by inch until your lips are latched on Eddie’s neck.
“Holy shit, I can’t believe this is happening.” Eddie whimpered.
“Want to taste this pussy, make sure it is real?”
“Please” he sighs.
You hear Brina moan around Eddie’s cock at your words.
It’s been a while since you had a cock in your mouth, and you wished you were the first one who got to go down on him, but the thought of sitting on Eddie’s face while your girl was swallowing him was too hot to pass up.
“Look at these nice big balls; I bet they’re filled with so much cum, just for us,” you hear her moan.
“Fuck me, you’re so hot,” Eddie brushes Sabrina’s hair out of her face.
You turn your body to face her so you can watch while you perch yourself right atop Eddie’s face.
“Yes, yes, come sit on my face,” you feel his big strong hands grip your hips and pull you down so your pussy lips meet his mouth.
“Oh fuck!” You laugh as the rough stubble of his face brushes the inside of your thighs.
Eddie wanted to waste no time. He needed to prove to you that choosing him was the right decision, and he needed to prove himself so you guys would let him play again; with much thought, he drags his tongue, moving through your folds to your clit, tasting every inch of you.
A loud moan left your throat as you looked down at your girl smiling up at you.
“He that good, baby?” Brina asks as she begins to jerk Eddie off with her hand.
“Oh yes, baby.” You grind your hips into his mouth, and Eddie smacks your ass before grabbing a handful of it.
“Oh!” You let out an excited squeal.
“Oh, you like a princess?” Eddie mumbled into your pussy.”
“Mmmph, yes, Eddie,” You were already so worked up by the situation you were already about to cum.
“Come on, Eddie, make my girl cum, and we will let you fuck us both.”
That piqued Eddie’s interest as he continued to flick his hot wet tongue over your clit while slowly sticking a finger up your dripping hole.
“Oh fuck!” You fall a little bit forward on your hands, your pussy in Eddie’s face, and your ass up in the air.
"Tastes so fucking good."
“Fuck that’s so hot"
You nod in agreement, unable to form words.
With Eddie's cock so close to your mouth, you can't help yourself but take it in your hand and bring it to your lips.
"fuck me, that is so good," Eddie speaks as your mouth finds his tip and Sabrina licks his balls.
Eddie needed to make you cum now, or else he wouldn't have the chance to fuck either of you if the two of your kept it up like this.
His long, thick fingers worked inside of you, hitting your g spot perfectly.
"Don't stop" You pop off his dick, drool dripping down your chin as your cry out.
"He making you feel good, baby?"
"Yes!" You shake as your orgasm hits you.
Eddie doesn't stop until Sabrina pulls his face away from your pussy.
"Let me taste." She moves his head to face her and kisses Eddie while you collect yourself.
"You taste so good, baby." She pulls away and leans into you, "Want to see?" You nod your head dumbly as she leans in to kiss you, sticking her tongue in your mouth.
Her soft lips pull away, and you whine at the disconnect.
"Wanna show Eddie how we play together?"
"Mmm, yes," you nod enthusiastically.
Quickly, Eddie moves to the end of the bed and steps off so Sabrina can take his place. She lays out for you, legs spread wide, showing you just how turned on she is. Her pink pussy is glistening, just begging for attention.
"Oh, baby, you're so wet for me" You lay down in front of her with your legs propped up to show Eddie your ass.
You slowly kiss up her inner thighs, teasing and biting at her skin until you reach the apex. You kiss around her pussy lips until she's grinding and begging for you to touch her.
"Baby, baby, baby." She begs until you give in. Placing your lips onto her clit and giving it a kiss before you poke your tongue out to finally run it along your girlfriend's sweet pussy.
The view in front of Eddie was enough to make him cum on the spot. He needed to stop stroking himself, or else he would be finishing before he even got started.
He was so tempted to fuck you right now. It would be so easy to slip his cock inside your pussy that was perched on display for him, but he also needed to commit this picture to memory. Nothing would ever let him forget this moment. Watching you go down on your girl and having her cry out from the pleasure you were giving her. Your skills are so good that her hips won't stay still on the bed. You need to hold her down as your fingers enter her weeping pussy. The lewd, wet sounds filled the room, along with Eddie's heavy breaths trying to hold back. His cock was so hard it was edging on the point of pain.
"Fuck I'm going to cum! I'm going to cum." She screamed.
"Fuking cum for her," Eddie growled.
The command was so hot it made you moan into her making her cum instantly.
"Good job, baby," you praised. You crawled back up to kiss her lips, and Eddie couldn't take it anymore. He needed to feel his release.
"Can I?" He looks at the both of you with those gorgeous puppy dog eyes.
"I think he's been a good boy; he deserves a treat. What do you think?" You ask.
"Oh, he's been a very good boy." She smiles back and moves to get a condom from the drawer.
"You guys just leave those around?" Eddie chuckles in disbeliefe.
"Never know when your hot neighbour will agree to have a threesome." You pull him into a kiss. His lips are so soft and supple that another rush of arousal courses through you as his hands roam your body. He pulls away to kiss down your neck to your breast, taking a perked nipple into his mouth while he grasps the other one in his large hand.
"Her tits are perfect, aren't they?" Sabrina hands Eddie the condom.
Eddie's tongue flicks off your nipple deliciously before he moves to answer.
"Can you fuck us now?"
"Yes!" Eddie said a bit too enthusiastically, but it was endearing.
"How do you want us?"
"Doggy," he points to you, "on top." He points to Brina.
You enthusiastically turn around in anticipation of his thick hard cock stretching out out.
"Fucking perfect." Eddie rolls the condom on, but before he gets to you, he watches as Sabrina makes her way closer to you.
"You know this is her favourite position because she loves a finger up her ass." She smirks, and a rush of arousal flooods your pussy once again. You hear her spit drip from her lips, and a warm wet liquid runs down your ass to your hole before you feel her tongue flick your small hole.
"Fuuuuuuuuuuuck," Eddie grounded, letting his head fall back, not knowing he could get any more turned on.
"Your turn, big boy"
Eddie walks to the edge of the bed; your pussy is at the perfect height, so he runs his cock up and down your folds collecting all of your slick so he can glide in easily.
You wiggle your ass into him, already cock drunk before it even begins.
"God baby, look how desperate you are for his cock."
You nod in agreeance.
"You just can't help yourself, can you? Greedy girl." your girlfriend leaves an open mouth and kisses you, watching and waiting for Eddie to enter you. She loves watching your pussy open up while taking cock, whether that be real or dildo.
"She is, isn't she" Eddie agrees while kneading your ass as he finally slips his cock into you.
A feral noise leaves your throat as Eddie's cock stretches you out.
Nothing occupied your mind other than how Eddie was making you feel now. His delicious cock, pumped in and out and out, not letting up.
"Fuck right there!"
"I think you found her special spot," Sabrina smirks before taking her fingers in her mouth to wet them. Too consumed to listen to what they were saying, your focus on only the feeling and when it intensifies because Brina's fingers enter your ass, you can't help but cry out again.
"Fuck!"
“Such a good girl. Take that cock, baby.” Sabrina praises as her fingers pump in and out of your ass.
The combination of Eddie's cock and her fingers made you feel so full. Nothing mattered other than how you were feeling.
"More" you cry.
"Oh, she is greedy." Eddie's hips slap into you at a more frivolous pace.
His balls hit your clit with every thrust until, out of nowhere, you feel a vibrator on your clit. She must have gotten it out while getting the condom, but you hadn't noticed or cared because it was just the thing to bring you over the edge.
"I'm going to cum!" you cry.
Not even a minute with the vibrator to your clit, and your pussy was clamping down hard on Eddie. It was like a tidal wave crashed into you; never had you cum this hard before. Your body shakes so hard under their touch that your arms and legs give out, and you collapse face down on the bed.
Mindless giggles leave your lungs as you ride out your high.
"Fuck did we break her?" Eddie looks at Sabrina.
"No, she's more than good. Never had cock that good, though." She smirked, and Eddie shuffled onto his back so she could get ready to be on top of him.
Exiting your daze, you see your girl already mounted on Eddie- and what a sight to see. A tit in his mouth as she bounces on his cock.
"God, that's so hot," you moan, and you sit up.
"Come here, princess," Eddie commands.
You obey and crawl your way over.
"Kiss," he instructs.
You lean into Sabrina, and she willingly takes your open-mouth kiss. Your tongues fight for dominance against one another, your lipgloss and hers are rubbed off, and your lips are swollen with a hint of colour flushed through them.
“Oh fuck I’m going to cum.” She pulls away.
"You're doing such a good job bouncing on his cock, baby," you praise before pressing your lips to hers once again.
“Mmmmm fuck her good; she’s been such a good girl she deserves to cum. Don’t you think Eddie?”
“Yes, she has,” he agrees while giving his ass a slap. “Fuck, you’re just my bunny, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she nodded her head. You can tell she’s so close, and you want her to experience cuming in Eddie stock just as you did.
“Come on baby, cum in his cock like I know you can.” You slip your hand between where she and Eddie connect to rub her clit, knowing it’s that little extra boost that will send her over the edge.
A loud cry leaves her lungs, and you know she’s cuming and cuming hard.
“Oh, good job, baby.” You purr before leaning in to kiss her neck.
“Fuck!” Eddie screams out, finally letting go as he allows himself release into the condom.
“Oh, Eddie, you did such a good job for us.” You praise sticking his hair out of his face before taking his lips into yours.
Eddie lay there in a daze as you helped Sabrina off his cock.
“Baby, did we break him?” You giggle.
“I think he’s reprogramming his brain,” she laughs.
“Nothing in my life will ever top this moment,” Eddie admits breathlessly.
“Oh yeah, wanna bet?” Sabrina challenged.
“You mean? You wanna do that again?”
“Not now, silly. I don’t think any of us would survive. But who said this has to be a one-time thing?”
“Best neighbours ever,” Eddie fist pumps.
After you all catch your breath, Eddie gets up and finds his boxers to go home.
“Wait, where are you going?" You pout.
“Uh, I thought?” He points to the door.
“Stay. Please?” Brina lifts up the blankets to invite him to sleep between the two of you.
“Really?” His eyes go wide with disbelief.
You both nod your heads enthusiastically.
“It will be like a sleepover!” You clap.
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Eddie scrambled back to the bed between you. No one would ever believe him, but he will take everything to his advantage out of this new and exciting situation.
“We really like you, Eddie.” You smile and snuggle into his side.
“I really like you guys, too.” Eddie falls asleep soundly, smiling, and without a care in the world.
Tags: @strangerstilinski @voyeurmunson @espressomunson @littlexdeaths @lokis-army-77 @andvys @taintedcigs
@tlclick73 @penguinsandpotterheads @nailbatanddungeon @hellfiremunsonn @paybacksawitch @jamdoughnutmagician
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natalyarose · 2 months
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𝒥𝓊𝓅𝒾𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒩𝒶𝓀𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓈 & 𝒢𝑒𝓃𝒾𝑒𝓈 🧞✨💐✩
I've always thought Jupiter ruled Nakshatras (Punarvasu, Vishakha, & Purvabhadprada) to be veryy magical with their themes of limitlessness, expansion, sheer spiritual abundance & power. I'm not sure if it has been talked about before, but something that always comes to mind when I envision Jupiterian Nakshatras or meet heavily Jupiter influenced people, is the concept of genies.
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Jupiter's abundance and endlessly giving nature is known to be a blessing and a curse. A Jupiterian can be the sweet, generous, selfless friend who is there when you need them; providing you endless support, refuge & material generosity.
The dark side of this inherently generous 'wish-fulfilling' nature of Jupiter Nakshatras, is the possibility that they enable dark behaviours in others & themselves. Always saying yes, always being available and endlessly giving to the wrong type of cause or person, can make you complicit in the crime so to speak, even if the intention is simply to give, or give chances (Punarvasu's themes of second chances, 'return to the light'). Jupiter Nakshatras entail hugeee lessons regarding purpose (Vishakha, 'the Star of Purpose') & being intentional and wise as to how you use your power and influence (the infamous test of character in Purvabhadrapada 'the man with two faces').
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These Jupiterian themes have always made me think of genies- wish fulfilling creatures who are inherently unable to say no to the wishes uttered to them. Having to just sit and watch people wish for dreadful things and just go... 'as you wish'. Obviously in real life, there really is a choice not to feed into others' and ones own toxic patterns but with Jupiterians, the urge to give, to be constantly available to others, can almost feel like it's not a choice. It's energetically intertwined in their make-up.
I would love to gather more examples, but it's 3am here and this was a bit of a spur of the moment thing I had to get out haha- I looked into a few of the most prominent 'genie' roles in movies and as I suspected, every single one features an actor/actress with strong Jupiter influence.
Jeannie from 60s sitcom 'I dream of Jeannie' - actress, Barbara Eden has Punarvasu Ascendant
Kazaam from 90s comedic film 'Kazaam' - actor/basketball player Shaquille O'Neal has Purvabhadrapada Sun
Genie from Disney's Aladdin - played in the live action movie by Will Smith, Vishakha Moon.
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This genie theme really makes me think of all of the Jupiterian Nakshatras, but Vishakha especially. A friend of mine who is a Vishakha stellium always tells me about how it is said that Vishakha has the ability to generate 'instant karma'. So Vishakha natives to an extent greater than other Nakshatras will receive the raw manifested result of their thoughts/actions veryy quickly. Much like a genie granting instant wishes.
I was going to mention also that the whole genie archetype also reminds me of Rohini a bit- the wish-fulfilling aspect, the element of fulfilling desires without shame/inhibition. It's a little different in nature, but Rohini Nakshatra's got a similar theme where the native is incredibly nurturing of who or what sets their heart on fire, sometimes to a fault. Rohini is capable of immense growth but can forgo morality/practicality for the sake of immersion in the process of creation & sparking joy. Rohini's philosophy is something along the lines of 'let go of judgement because judgement inhibits creation and disrupts purity'. This is very true, but of course as humans on the divided and dense Earthly plane, we know that having a sense of judgement & boundaries is also important.
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That was very wordy, but hopefully y'all see what I'm getting at lol. Although I'm more inclined to associate Rohini with wise old wizard dudes with cool beards & mad but genius scientists lol.
Back to Jupiterians-
I believe that Jupiter Nakshatra's 'remedy' is to eventually realise that they are not a slave to their giving nature, and the power lies in them to decide, & give only to a person, dream, goal or cause that truly is aligned with their own soul's path. Break free from the shackles lol- with wisdom hopefully. Without that element of wisdom, Jupiter can run wild with that discovered power.
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Jupiterians struggling with discernment is why Jupiter Nakshatras oppose Venusian Nakshatras (Bharani opposes Vishakha; Purvaphalguni opposes Purvabhadrapada; Purvashadha opposes Punarvasu). Venus masters the fine art of 'necessary cruelty' sometimes ya gotta rip out the weeds, warn off the pigeons and trim the rose bush to make your garden a beautiful, pleasant, luxurious place. Jupiter can struggle with this, instinctively wanting to be a safe space for everyone and everything.
Jupiter ruled Nakshatras also partially oppose Solar Nakshatras (Krittika, Uttaraphalguni & Uttarashadha) illustrating the Jupiterian struggle with putting oneself first. Solar Nakshatras keep their energy strong and vibrantly resounding at their core; wheras Jupiter Nakshatras are kinda messy with their energy (lol, not necessarily in a bad way)- they disperse their energy everywhere, giving & giving. Both Solar & Jupiter Nakshatras deal with themes of limitless reserves energy, but in opposite, contrasting ways.
There's so much I could write about Jupiterians, I love Jupiter energy very much. I really love all of the Nakshatras lol, I mean how could you not? Every Nakshatra holds teachings that are integral to making the world a better place 💕🪷
Thankyou for reading!
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actuallysaiyan · 7 months
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Isn't This Your Naked Body In My Bed?(Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader)
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warnings: smut, somnophilia, unprotected sex, breeding kink, nipple play, impregnation kink, vaginal fingering, domesticity, slight lactation kink
word count: 1.5k
pairings: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader
summary: Kento comes home late one night after work, and he's just dying to be so deep inside of you. The only slight little issue? You're asleep when he gets home. So he's got to warm you up a little bit first.
a/n: Dedicated to the wonderful and talented @seireiteihellbutterfly!!
For this request:
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It’s been such a long day, and all Kento can think about is returning home to you. Thoughts of your pretty smile, loving touch and sweet scent are what keep him going. He’s in the car driving home and he turns on the radio. He smiles to himself when he hears the radio station playing your song. It’s the song that had been playing when he first confessed his love to you. It’s also your wedding song.
The car pulls into the driveway and that’s when he realizes just how late it is. He sighs as he opens the car door, shutting it as quietly as he can. Then he makes his way into the house, trying his best not to make a sound. It’s dark inside your shared home, and he knows that you’re more than likely asleep.
Kento slips on his house slippers, hangs up his jacket and places his briefcase at the entryway. He begins to tiptoe into the house, making sure he doesn’t make any disruptive noises to potentially wake you. His eyes scan the kitchen, noticing just how spotless it is. His heart swells with pride and love for you. You really do all you can to make sure he comes home to something so comforting and clean.
Eventually, he heads into the bathroom. With a sigh, he tugs on the knot of his tie and loosens it. Then he begins to undress as the water warms up in the shower. He’s been looking forward to this all day, and he’s practically salivating at the thought of being soothed and massaged by the high-powered shower head and hot water.
Once he steps inside, he can smell soft traces of your own soap and shampoo. He knows you must have had a shower just before bed, or maybe you had a bath. He wonders if you missed him just as badly as he missed you. His mind races, filling with thoughts of finding you in your shared bed all fresh and showered. A soft grunt rumbles through his chest as his cock twitches to life,
He wants to stroke himself, but part of him thinks about maybe saving this arousal for when he’s in bed with you. Maybe you’re still up, which was a possibility. You had a bad habit of lying in bed, scrolling on your phone til the wee hours of the morning. Kento begins to imagine how he could just go into the bedroom after his shower, his towel low on his hips and then he could just so easily press you into his favorite position.
With renewed gusto, Kento finishes up his shower in record time. His cock aches at the thought of being able to be deep inside of you soon. He finishes up his evening routine before padding his way into your shared bedroom. His eyes widen when he notices it’s dark inside the room, and you’re curled up under the covers. But he can’t help himself, he needs to feel you so close. He wants to be able to smell you and taste you.
His hands rip the towel off and he crawls onto the bed carefully. You slowly stir, but you don’t wake up. His eyes are calculating as he watches you slumber; your chest going up and down with soft breathing patterns. Your eyes are closed and a small smile plays on your lips. You look like an angel like this. 
Kento gently rolls you onto your back, causing you to moan. But still, you don’t wake up. His hands are so tender as he caresses your pretty face. He kisses your lips, only to be captivated completely by the smell of your sweet-scented shampoo and body wash. His cock twitches a few more times; the tip is red and leaking precum.
“Look at my pretty angel,” he whispers softly before kissing you again. Your eyes just barely open, but soon you’re back in dreamland.
His long fingers ghost over the soft little negligee you’ve got on. It’s silky and lacy, but it’s comfortable. He remembers when he bought you this little number. It was when he was on a long trip far from home, and he thought of you immediately when he saw it. The way it fits you like a glove turns him on so much, he’s not going to be able to hold back for much longer.
Then he pushes the skirt of the negligee up, exposing your cute little pussy to him. His mouth waters as he sees that you’re a little wet already. He wonders what you’re dreaming about, but he knows that you often dream about him. You let out a soft, sleepy mewl when his fingers part your folds. Your eyes glaze over, opening for a few moments before shutting again as sleep takes over you once more.
“Pretty little pussy,” Kento huffs in your ear as he lays down next to you. “All wet for me, hm?”
You groan as one of his fingers slips into you, “Mmm…Ken…”
You’re on the edge of sleep and wakefulness. There’s that fine line of consciousness. It’s so sexy to watch you react to this while you’re just barely awake. Your silky walls suck in his finger, coating the digit in your juices. Kento begins to pump it in and out of you, his eyes dark and pupils blown wide with lust.
His voice is gravely as he leans in again, “You still sleepin’, angel?”
You let out a mewl as his thumb comes up to rub your swollen clit, “Kento…”
He smirks as he keeps you stimulated just enough to keep waking you up, but you’re so tired and sleepy that you continue to drift off. He gently slides another finger into you, grunting as he feels your cunt gripping his fingers. Slowly and gently, he pumps them in and out of your dripping hole. He can basically smell you from here.
Kento nips at your neck softly, groaning as he gets a whiff of your body wash again. You smell divine. It makes his cock twitch once more, and he presses himself against you even more. As he pulls his fingers from you, he parts your thighs a bit more. Your eyes barely open as you feel the heft of his girth resting on your mound.
“You ready for me, darling?” he asks in a raspy tone. He taps the leaking head of his cock against your clit.
This makes you wake up a little more, a sleepy smile playing on your lips. Your eyes are just barely open as you watch him slipping the head of his cock into your cunt. A gasp is ripped from you as he slides all the way in, his balls plush against your ass. Your hands cling to him, grounding yourself from the intense pleasure.
“Did you forget about what we’re trying to do?” he asks you between soft kisses that turn even more heated.
You shake your head, “N-no, didn’t forget.”
He begins to roll his hips, the head of his cock rubbing up against that sweet spot deep inside of you that causes you to see stars. You can’t help the pathetic little noises that fall from your lips. Kento catches them all with his lips, 
Your legs slowly begin to wrap around him, and his hands come up to your breasts. He cups them, pushing them together before he dips his head down to take one of your nipples into his mouth. You moan as he begins to suckle on your nipples, making you clench around him even more. Kento can see the sleepiness in your eyes slowly begin to dissipate.
“Is it safe to say that my pretty angel is waking up?”
You moan as he slides his hands under your hips, pulling you up against his muscular body. He loves the way you’re so close to your own climax already as he’s been stimulating you this entire time. Kento kisses a trail from your tits to your neck, biting down so gently. His breath is warm as it fans on your face.
“Gonna put a baby in you,” he grunts. “Going to make you a mommy,”
You can’t help but begin begging him for his cum. You’re becoming more and more desperate as your own climax begins building. Flames lick at the fire that’s so deep in the pit of your belly. The coil inside of you is so tight, you swear you’re about to cry from the heavenly pleasure your husband is providing you.
“Please Ken…please, I want it.”
“You’d like that, yeah? You want your big, strong husband to breed you?” Kento asks, feeling you clenching and pulsing around his cock.
He chuckles at just how fucked stupid you are already. Or maybe it’s partly the sleep that still hangs in your mind and body. He kisses you lovingly, and the minute his tongue touches yours, it’s all over. You cum hard, your nails desperately digging into the muscles of his back. Your cunt pulses and contracts around him; your gummy walls are beginning to milk him.
“That’s it, angel. That’s it,”
You whine softly as you feel his cock throbbing within you. Shot after shot of his thick cum begins to fill you up, painting your insides white. Slowly, he stops his pace and nuzzles his face against your chest. His hands come back up to cup your breasts, suckling on your softening nipples.
“I can’t wait for these to be full of milk…”
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secretlovezz · 4 months
Text
Kiss Me
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Daryl Dixon x reader
Summary: while you and Daryl are out on a run feelings are disruptively revealed
Warnings: killing of walkers (duh), Daryl is implied to be older than reader, kissing (of course), just fluff, let me know if I've missed anything
Word count: 1299 (Think that's the most I've ever written on here lol)
Not Proofread
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"Watch it."
Daryl's arm swings up lazily with his pointer finger aiming in a direction to the left of you where a walker slowly makes its way closer, stumbling and tripping over the dead plant life and its decaying limbs. You meet it halfway and its milky eyes meet yours, for a split second you let yourself wonder what kind of life this creature- no this woman- lived before the world went to shit, you take notice of the wedding ring on the ring finger of her left hand before her groans and growling got louder; your knife sinks its way into the shambling and rotting skull of the corpse and the body drops to the ground.
Up ahead a few feet Daryl watches you, your movements, your eyes and lips, your hands, he watches it all and he notices that look the one of sadness and empathy.
Before he and his group came to Alexandria you had yet to truly experience the outside world; the unrealistic safety of walls had kept you naive and unprepared for the dangers of the dead.
Though you are no longer naive to the world you still have your moments, moments where Daryl would remind you albeit a little harshly that there was nothing you could do to help these things- these "people".
When you catch up with him you smile in an attempt to convince him that you weren't thinking about what he knew you were. His brow raises at you and your eyes roll dramatically in return. You hit his arm playfully and smile again, somehow this one is brighter than the one before, "Let's keep going Dar' this food isn't gonna find itself ya' know." The corner of his mouth quirks up into a small smirk when you look away from him to continue walking he can't look away even as he makes his way back to you and you seem to have no idea the effect you have on him.
《----------♡
The two of you come across what seems like a small town with few houses and stores, a town that's probably already been raided for its supplies but Alexandra's desperation for food and medicine prompts you and Daryl to double-check- just in case.
Your eyes wander around admiring the once nice country houses as you walk down one of the streets-you forget the name of it already- and once again let your mind float away to life before. Would you have lived in a house like this if you got the chance, to live a married life with children running around if it was possible? Would the man you'd have married be a man like Daryl?
Your cheeks heat just at the thought of a domestic life with him. Is he the type of man to kiss your forehead when the two of you wake up together in bed as the sun shines through the bedroom window? You wonder if he would be the type to kiss and tickle the kids to make them laugh. Would he want a life like that or would he laugh at the idea?
You don't realize it but your legs have stopped moving, you stare at one of the houses wishing and reminiscing on what could have been but can no longer be.
Daryl watched you again but this time in confusion, this is the first time he hasn't known what you were thinking.
"What is it? Seen somethin'?" He asked walking back over to where you were to peer into the windows of the house.
Your head whips over to him eyes widening and cheeks heating even hotter in embarrassment.
Your fingers hastily move to fidget with the straps of your backpack, "I- uh- we should... let's just keep going." You keep your head down in shame at your thoughts though they weren't lewd as you make your way past him. He wants so badly to grab your arm- to have his skin gently against yours in concern as you speedily go by but he restrains himself fingers twitching against his crossbow and he clears his throat to continue after you.
《----------♡
After thoroughly searching through a hand full of buildings that included, gas stations, houses, supermarkets, and pharmacies neither of your bags were full having over found a few bottles of not too important medicines and a couple of tools.
When the two of you found a house, and cleared it of threats, to hunker down in for the night after a day of disappointments you settled in the living room upset and tired- understandably so. Worrying about the ignominy you'd feel returning home with practically nothing you let out a sigh from deep within your chest and moved your hands so the the palm of them would dig roughly into the sockets of your eyes.
Daryl let out a similar deep sigh as he settled closely next to you. His head falls back and his eyes drift to you letting a gaze so intense that you could feel it fall onto you.
You look back at him and try to let a grin form on your face but its tight lipped and almost fatigued.
The older man lets his eyes travel your face for what feels like the millionth time basking in your unreal beauty and like always their destination is your lips, though cracked they looked soft. He realizes he's ogling too late but still tries to fixates his stare back to your eyes before you notice.
You'd noticed though.
You debate asking him about it no longer worried about the lack of supplies you guys hadn't found but about whether or not you had imagined Daryl Dixon staring at your lips with a yearning you'd only seen in movies before the dead rose.
"Do you-um-" Talking about something as simple as feeling was more complex than they made it seem in movies though and you'd already stuttered over yourself an embarrassing amount of times today.
You leaned your face a little closer to his and his breath hitched. "Do you... like me? Like- do you want to kiss...me?" This was humiliating, you felt like a teenager, like you were fifteen and talking to your crush. Well, you were talking to your crush but you weren't fifteen anymore.
Daryl softly nodded letting out a gruff hum of agreement and you almost melted at the sound.
He leaned in a little closer just close enough so the tip of his nose could just barely brush against yours, "Do ya' want me to kiss ya'?"
"Please." You whispered.
His lips quirk upwards for a split second, "Please what?"
Your lips brush against his desperately, "Kiss me."
Daryl surges forward to capture your lips with his, you let out a sound on impact. The kiss is needy and filled with a want you both had been holding in for what feels like forever. Daryl's hands find your hips and grips them tightly using the strength he's built over the years to move you into his lap. You straddle him and shift you hands to rake through his hair before clasping them to the side of his head.
When you finally part for air you let your forehead rest against his, both of you panting heavily while staring into each others eyes. The smile on your face is wide and you giggle at the flushness on his cheeks- you did that to him.
The man you sit on top of doesn't know why your laughing, "Wha'?"
Relocating your head to press into the crook of his neck your smile widens and the fingers on one of your hands tangle and play with his hair, "Nothin' just... happy."
Daryl's smile is one that your sure you'll remember in every life time.
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moonsaver · 5 months
Note
Context before getting into the actual idea: I recently saw some fanart based on concept art for Dr Ratio where he has slightly longer, messier hair and the fanart interpreted this as him having a bit of a rebellious phase when he was younger.
So now I’m just thinking about Reader going to school with him when he was going through this phase. He had a bit of a crush on her but didn’t know how to express it so he just messed with her constantly.
And now they meet again when he’s changed and he hasn’t gotten over her she’s just getting massive amounts of whiplash from how wildly different he is. Could be yandere 👀
Anon. I am GRIPPINT YOU BY THE SHOULDERS. Listen. Unfortunately i doubt i did this justice but i tried my best PLEASE okay
A bit long, under the cut!
Its not exactly easy to imagine Dr. Ratio of all people being rebellious, but that just makes it even more possibly believeable in my opinion. I am deeply convinced he has had his crazy scientist, jerkward asshole phase at least once and was soo deeply embarassed the moment he left it.
But listen. His professors all probably HATED him because he would probably constantly correct them, be so disgustingly overeducated to the point they'd send him to the library or tell him to get lost just so he wouldn't disrupt class. He's the infamous asshole who sits wherever he wants, and hoardes an entire table to himself if he's at the library or at the cafeteria. Any student who needs a pen or eraser or a pencil knows he's NOT the one to ask, even if it was in the middle of an exam worth half their grade and he was the only person beside them. He does literally anything he wants and no one can stop him except probably by force, and if they do, something worse ends up happening to them instead.
Anyways, here comes in reader. Probably already knows his sour reputation. Regardless, maybe you're the poor soul who's his seatmate. If the crush is already established, he's constantly bothering you. Asking for stationaries like the entirety of his desk isn't covered by it already (he likes the miniscule interaction), taking your notebooks without your knowledge and sometimes even scribbling inside of them (its his horrid handwriting, he's just trying to help you with detailed notes), he comments on how "lame" your outfit is, asking about your social life, rolling his eyes when your response isn't exactly.. pleasing (he's actually a bit content with it. Perhaps you'll hang out with him more, instead?). You note the smell of alcohol trailing him a bit everytime you interact with him.
It's not easy for him, especially when you can't seem to keep up and look so queasy around him. Aeons, his heart is so twisted up and squeezed everytime he seems to be getting more distant from you, but he just has no idea how to convey his feelings. Not when he didn't even account for the fact he'll have a crush on anyone in the first place.
Anyways, timeskip!
You're probably a researcher of some sort, maybe not so well known. Let's just say for the sake of simplicity you're a researcher on Herta's space station. It's not too soon before he runs into you, probably after the whole mess at the station's been "cleaned up" regarding the curio and whatever. Maybe he doesn't leave right after that interaction with Screwellum, and he decides to, by his curiosity, take a look around once again before he leaves (certainly not because he's heard a familiar name thrown around a few times).
And there you are. In your little research-getup, professional vernacular, hair all neat. He's probably right behind you in an instant, and you turn around to look as the colleague you were talking to suddenly starts stuttering and becoming squeamish while looking behind you. There he is, in all his (cruel?) Glory. The infamous asshole who was your classmate.
But.. it's surprising how much more mellow he's become (at least towards you?). His hair are neatly tamed, his build is taller and more muscular than it was back then, but his attire is also quite tame (if not a little.. fancy?), compared to his brash taste back then. His eyes still seem to hold contempt, but more distantly so.
Veritas figures your mouth is agape and you're speechless considering the change in his countenance as of recent. He's also not yet come to terms with the fact that his heart still twists and squeezes whenever he sees that unsure look on your face. If you were made of clay, and if he could, he'd meld the most beautiful smile on your face with his craftful fingers. Alas, he resorts to tamer methods. At least he supposes he's a wiser man, now. He's more aware of different courting methods.
He asks about your station, your current life, family, friends, etc .. in a seemingly disinterested tone. There's a bit of resignation but hidden constrain in his voice, everytime you mention a "close friend" of yours or a colleague you worked with "closely". But he hasn't been berating you the way he would have back then. His fingers slightly constantly strain, folded behind his back, trying desperately not to taper towards you – there's stray strands of hair on your face. Your headpiece is off centre. Your pen is slanting in your pocket. Your shoulders are too tense. Your eyebrows are furrowed. your eyes look tired. Have your lips always been chapped? They were fine back then.. hold on.
While you stutter out useless formalities and pleasantries, Veritas' eyes scan you over. Time has weathered you well, in his opinion. The thin line of his pressed lips dont quite indicate that. He sighs almost grimly, shutting you up in an instant. He offers you to accompany him and possibly consider joining the Intelligentsia Guild (is it not worth a shot trying? It may be foolish, but he's a tad too desperate when it comes to you). You timidly mumble out a refusal, the words barely leaving your mouth. He nods.
Catching up makes his heart squeeze and rush all over the place. Topics he once tried to teach you back then (by.. VERY unsuccessful methods,) seem to be elementary knowledge to you now. You work more efficiently, hold yourself in a better, more confident way, and you seem to be smoothsailing in your life. Granted, it's technically the bare minimum, but its been so long since he talked to you. The chirp in your voice, the chuckle you let out every now and then despite your nervousness around him, has his heart in his throat. He can't bring himself to try and even "set you straight" by giving you (unwarranted) advice or piddling your achievements, there's a soft smile he's duly hiding behind his scorning face.
He offers you again, if you are unsure about joining the Guild, and discreetly mentions it being filled with imbeciles regardless when you deny again, pulling another string of laughter out of you. Hmph, you weren't so joyful when he made those statements back in high school.
Granted,you're obviously still not quite sure about Veritas' new look. He's still got his infamous reputation as an extremely strict teacher, the oddball with an alabastor head and having worked with the IPC, it's not a pleasant image per se, but it's heaps better than his reputation back at school. You politely make a joke about it, and he groans, earning another cautious, light chuckle from you. He has become different. You prattle on about the length of his hair, his refinement of speech, the difference in how he holds himself now.. it does leave him melting a tad bit inside. You noticed it? Hm. Clever little thing.
Of course, goodbyes are seldom sweet. He does manage to pry out your contact information once again, before. If you don't budge,he finds another way regardless. Your network of colleagues aren't exactly as strong as you might have thought. He remembers this information carefully.
Like the old days, maybe he'll manage to keep slipping notes into your reports and files. Perhaps pull a few strings back in the old days to keep you in his class, he'll slowly knot and twist a few strings to bring and budge you over to his little workplace. Sooner or later, you'll end up in his home. He's sure of it.
And just like the old days, his little seatmate is by his side once again. Care to put up with him for a bit longer? Probably forever, in this case.
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acapelladitty · 5 months
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Smoke Them All
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Pairing: Cooper Howard/F!Reader
Fic Masterlist
Link to AO3
Summary: Not content with the litany of bruises and bite marks which he has littered across your skin, Cooper decides on something a little more permanent. (2.2k words)
(tw for: spanking, rough play, branding, fingering, orgasm, pain kink, dom/sub dynamics, subspace, allusions to cannibalism, cum eating, mild aftercare)
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You hear the swish of his hand as it arcs through the air a split moment before the connecting smack rings out loudly and fresh fire flares in your unprotected ass.
"That's eight, little killer." Cooper muses as his open palm comes to settle against your skin, the flesh feeling raw and heated due to his vicious strikes, and his fingers trace the unseen outlines of his hand prints as they litter your ass. "You're almost warmed up for the main event."
Anxiety laced with a wicked arousal floods your groin, your cunt feeling slippery and neglected as you consider the small metal brand which sits in the nearby fire - the end balanced where the fire was at it hottest to ensure a clean imprint.
The brand had been his idea, a casual and sleazy comment given life by your own curiosity, but the spanking was just an added boon and Cooper was never one to deny himself the chance to dole out a little bit of good ol' fashioned discipline when the mood suited him.
So here you were, braced over his lap as the evening moon shone high in the sky. The surrounding area was dead of life, raiders and monsters having been long snuffed out, and any potential new onlookers had been provided their chance to scarper at the presence of the infamous ghoul. It was luck that the night air wasn't too chilled, not that it would have made a difference to either of you as you set about your combined goal.
The first few strikes had been pretty manageable as Cooper targeted different parts of your ass, quickly and efficiently trying to cover and redden up as much skin as possible while his other hand pinned your lower back to his knees. His tattered jacket flared out from behind him, the ratty ends touching the ground just beside your own fingers as you pressed them against the ground to keep balance.
Cooper, however, hadn't been as impressed with your easy management of his punishment.
C'mon now, little songbird, I want to hear that lovely voice.
And his efforts had quickly doubled as he brought his hand down with much more violence, the next two strikes coming in rapid succession as they glanced off the fullest part of your ass and stole the breath from your lungs. It was like being struck by metal. Hard. Unforgiving. And so fucking good.
He got the reaction he wanted as your playful groans dissolved into pathetic squeals when his fingers groped at the stinging flesh, your knees pulling together as you smeared the growing wetness that was developing between your thighs. The following hits were much the same, his accurate hand having targeted the same patch of skin until you could feel the heat buzzing free of the abused flesh as small whimpers stole from your throat freely.
"You're lucky I ain't using my belt, darling." Cooper growls as he disrupts your thoughts, tugging at your hair to force your head back enough to gaze up at him. "Cause the welts that leaves would paint you purple for a week and give you a harsh reminder of it every time that fine ass wanted to sit down anywhere."
"Yes, sir." Fumbling over the words, your fingers scratch against the dirt of the ground as your cunt feels swollen and painfully abandoned. You swear you could feel yourself dripping with mess but since he hadn't commented on it yet, maybe not.
"Might even use the buckle." Your scalp burns from his rough grasp and the extension of your neck makes breathing difficult as he continues. "Let it tear strips off you until you're a sobbing mess just crying out and begging for me to let up on you. You want that?"
Rubbing your thighs together at the open threat, you gasp and whine under his grip. From this position, you are barely able to make out his expression as your vision is also limited by the unshed tears which gather in your eyes, vision blurring due to the pain and frustration.
"N-no, sir."
"Good answer, darlin', cause i don't want to delay the next part any longer than we need to. You think you're ready for it?"
His hand releases your head and you nod frantically as fear lances your heart. A little masochism was fine by you, hot as fuck actually as it made the pleasure all the sweeter, but the brand would hurt like hell. Your heart beating a messy tune in your chest, your breath stutters as you feel him leaning over you to snatch up the brand from the fire.
"You gonna lie there like a good girl while I fix and mark you up? Hmm?" Cooper asked, his hand spreading your ass as textured fingers roll over the area he intends to mark on your right ass cheek. "I've got the rope ready to go if you can't hold still and let me make a clean print."
"Do it, Cooper." You gasp out, body shaking with anticipation as your eyes squeeze shut, preparing for the hurt to come as your hands visibly shake against the dusty ground. "Make me yours. Only yours. Make it so that everyone in the wastelands can see who the fuck they're messing with if they mess with me."
"Language." Tutting his disapproval with a playful hypocrisy, the rough excitement in his voice speaks of just how eager he was for you to have this mark. Well, that and the way that his cock remains pressing between you, the rock-hard length digging into your stomach with every slight movement as he speaks again.
"After this you're mine. Anyone else touches you then I take their throat. No mercy."
"No mercy." You repeat, almost a hypnotic babble as your breathing grows more and more erratic and anxious.
"I don't claim much in the wastelands, darlin', so you be good to me and I'll make sure that you never get the chance to forget what it means, you hear?"
"Goddamn, Cooper. Just do it! Mark me, brand me, give me something. Just- FUCK!"
It was nothing compared to the previous spanking.
The pain is indescribable as the metal presses harshly against your skin, searing his initials into the reddened flesh of your ass. You bury your scream in your forearm, tasting blood as your teeth clamp together roughly around your own flesh, and it's only his hand - hard as steel and twice as unforgiving - which prevents you from bucking in place to avoid the horrid pain.
Darkness dances in your vision for a moment as a genuine fear that you're going to pass out clenches your heart but it sweeps through rapidly, leaving you teetering on the edge of consciousness for only a few seconds.
You don't feel the brand pull free as the metal essentially kills off your nerve endings, the damage welcome as it dulls the initial shock. Rather, the initial sear is quick to settle into a vicious pain which is more like a deep, heated ache that sits beneath your skin.
"Cooper." You howl, fingers scrambling against his closet leg as you desperately seek something to cling onto as a wave of nausea rolls through your stomach. "Hurts."
Violently sobbing at the residual ache, you remain pinned in place as his free hand audibly drops the brand to the sandy floor before his fingers return to your ass. You can't feel him ghosting his digits along the wound but you're fairly certain that's what he's doing as a rumble of approval slips free of his chest.
"I know it hurts like a motherfucker." Cooper exhales, his roughened voice holding a giddiness as he watches you struggle to keep control of yourself. "But you did so well, girlie. Took it better than most would and I think that deserves a reward."
His fingers follow the curve of your ass to drop and press insistently at your hole - two digits sinking deep as they quickly provide a little relief to the aching neglect which your cunt was experiencing.
Audibly delighted with his markings, Cooper's tone is as predatory as ever as he slowly pumps his fingers into your cunt - following a pattern he knows drives you wild as he continues.
"Smells good too. Ain't gonna lie. Wish I'd taken a strip for myself before I burned it away."
Shivering at that, you moan out something that may have been an encouragement or a denial - your brain too fuzzy to make sense of it as his textured fingers rub along your walls.
"Coop-Cooper." You stutter out his name, sharp breaths feeling hot in your lungs as the adrenaline flushing through your veins - made all the worse by the dual sensations of dull pain and growing pleasure which wracked your lower half - causes a light-headedness which leaves you slack against his knees. "Touch me more. Make the pain go away."
"Can't make it go away, sweetheart. But I can make you forget about it for a minute or two."
With two fingers still curled within you, his thumb slides up your slickened folds until it grazes your clit. Body tensing, you sigh and groan as he teases the sensitive nub by gently circling his thumb across it. It didn't help that the leathered skin was so much rougher than a typical man's and the added sensation of it was enough to make you forget the burn of your ass as you focus on it.
His fingers are skilled and he is quick to target all those sweet, wicked little spots that make your mouth dry and your soaked cunt clench around his probing digits; that bastard thumb of his never letting up its teasing pressure on your clit as he strokes along the engorged nub with a lazy enjoyment. Adrenaline making every nerve feel heightened, your earlier neglect and enjoyment of his hand bring you close to the edge with an embarrassing speed.
"Such a tight little thing." Cooper grunts, his groin grinding against your stomach lightly as he plays you like a fiddle while taking care not to damage the fresh brand. "Can barely get my fingers out with you gripping at them like this. You'd have thought by now I'd have loosened you up at least a little."
Unable to speak, your reply is a mess of jerking nods and gasping pants. But he seemed to catch the jist of your agreement and it causes a low chuckle to rumble through his body.
Slipping a third finger in, the added stretch was all it took to have your toes curling against the air as the building tension in your body snapped into rolling waves of pleasure. Your cunt clenches around his fingers, pulling them deeper as they continue to rub against your sweet spot, drawing your orgasm out until your limbs felt tight and your throat started to burn from the constant whining and pleas that trickle free of it.
Shuddering and feeling faint, you lay limply against his knees, feet touching the ground as you actively fight the euphoric nausea which makes your body feel light and far off. It was too much and instead of facing the aches and pleasures, you allow the weariness to slip within your very bones.
A lurid suckling noise makes your head turn up to the side and you catch the sight of Cooper pulling his fingers free of his mouth, the digits slickened by both your mess and his spit as he messily cleans them off.
"Sweet as honey. Ain't nothing like it." He mutters, mostly to himself, before tilting his head down to meet your eye. "You alright down there? Not gonna pass out on me are you?"
Sighing out as darkness touches at the edge of your vision, you give him a soft smile - bottom lip only slightly trembling as you answer. "Sleepy."
He's surprisingly careful as he picks you up with his impressive strength, hands wrapping around your upper body to right you to your feet - shaking legs barely able to hold even your limited weight - before he deposits you in his lap. Angling your body atop his so that the pressure of your ass on his lap is far away from the fresh brand, your head presses against his clothed chest and you inhale the coppery scent that clings to him like it was a lifeline.
"Then sleep and I'll keep the beasts at bay."
Cooper speaks lowly, the words washing over you skin like a soothing blanket. "Here." His hands wrap the edges of his leather jacket around your sides, the material not enough to cover you completely - not even close - but you appreciate the gesture regardless.
In the warm night air, your thighs coated in the mess of your release and your ass throbbing will a dull ache that was going nowhere any time soon, you focus on the interesting sounds which roll through Cooper's chest as you press your ear against his frayed shirt and allow fatigue to finally claim you.
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yayll · 13 days
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~ a little something about Beast Dazai and his inability to let you go ~
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Your hand trembles as you're about to knock on the massive office doors and you wonder if you're about to make the biggest mistake of your life.
You got too close working for this terribly lonely man, and now you're knocking at his door with the only solution you can think of to put an end to your silly infatuations that have gone on for longer than you'd want to admit and can possibly handle. You open the door slowly, and walk into the elegant and massive office space, your eyes falling right onto the dark haired man in all black hunched over the desk, scribbling away as if he didn't hear you come in. You walk quietly, and when you reach the wooden desk, your voice comes out soft and firm.
"Dazai, sir? I wanted to speak to you about something sensitive, if I may."
You chew on the corner of your bottom lip, but quickly compose yourself when you see the face of the man you've spent so much time with, the unfortunate love of your life. if it weren't for his Maroon scarf, he'd look like nothing but a black void. A burnt Black cat. He looks up, narrowed eyes scan you as he takes a sip of his tea, replying in a monotonous tone.
"What is it?"
"After much consideration, I think.. I need to leave the Port Mafia. We've worked together for quite a while now, and I can assure you it's not about the quality or enjoyment of my work. You don't even have to acknowledge this beyond me simply saying it, I just have to confess something that makes my heart ache. You make my heart ache. I know how unprofessional that sounds and that you have no use for such affections, but I can't keep pretending. It's why I think it's time for me to move onto something else otherwise my work will become disrupt-"
A lifted finger is shoved into your face, signaling you to stop, and so you do. Of course you do. You always had a habit of word vomiting when you were anxious. Dazai is staring down at his tea, and he stays quiet for a long time, trying to pick what emotion he can mask his real outraged ones with. Finally, he flashes you an unbothered look, his eyes half lidded as they taunt you. A cruel smirk curls onto his lips.
"Oh? What an awful time for your honesty! I'm currently drowning in work and responsibilities, ones that you're supposed to aid me with, actually. Thus, I have no use for your confession." He simply says.
You can feel a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. You expected this. Looking down at your shoes, you chew on your lip again.
"I had to tell you.. Like I said, you can just forget about it."
"Well you see, that's the problem. I can't forget it. The moment you uttered those nasty little words to me, I realized I have to carry the weight of finding a new secretary. And I resent that."
He looks away for a brief second, his words are bitter and laced with what sounds like remorse and irritation.
You cross your arms and sigh, your voice comes out lower than your confidence.
"I just thought that we were... I suppose I should have never dared to assume you'd ever see me as more than a-"
He instantly leans over his desk, now placing a finger on your lip, his voice just above a whisper.
"... And though these feelings you have for me may be inconvenient, it doesn't mean that they're unwelcome."
He lets his finger rest on your lips for just a second too long, meanwhile you're frozen in place feeling like your chest is going to collapse in on itself. His voice becomes softer.
"Sit, please."
You sit down, now facing each other. It's quiet for a few moments as you both study each other's expressions. This form of intimacy was unusual to everyone else but the two of you, having spent countless hours in the past working across one another without uttering a single word, yet communicating in perfect sync. You were a part of each other's routines, a never ending spiral. Dazai feels himself teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something peeling away at his very soul. He's usually so arrogant and domineering, but in this instant, he suddenly feels an exhaustion wash over him trying to keep that going. He's kept it going for so long, he forgot that he doesn't like doing it with you. You don't deserve to be a part of all of this, and he doesn't deserve to want you.
Oh how he loathes his true identity: A simple man. A human man. Your man.
When he can't take it anymore, he slowly creeps his bandaged hand on top of yours, applying light pressure, but his eyes don't dare look into yours. Not yet. Finally, you break the silence, staring down with furrowed brows at the way your hands fit around one another. You mutter under your breath, tired of being vague.
"What are we to each other, Dazai? I mean really?"
"Do I really need to spell it out for you?" He snorts, trying to cling to the last of his cruelty but failing as he lets his emotions sway his judgement.
You sigh, flipping your hand over so that your fingers can fully intertwine.
"I just don't know how I could ever take up any space in your mind. I didn't think you noticed whether I stayed or left."
He looks up, flashing you a mildly offended look, his sharp eyes narrowing. He scoffs quietly, dropping your hand and standing up from his desk. He walks over to you, his full height now looming. He bends down and scolds you.
"What an obscene thing to say. You're invaluable. You have always been occupying my mind, every minute, every second, every microsecond. I always notice. I'd notice even if I was on my deathbed."
Your breath catches in your throat, and you finally manage to swallow the lump that's building up as you stare up at your reckoning.
"I just- I'd never try to leash you, sir."
His eyes soften, and he tilts his head slightly. You drive him mad with the way you don't realize what a dog he is for you. His voice comes out strained.
"You wouldn't need to. And don't call me that. You know my name, and as your superior l'm ordering you to address me properly."
Your cheeks flush, and you part your lips, letting out the breath you can't stop holding. A faint smile appears on your face, and you stand up slowly to meet him.
"You're like the moon, you know? You control everything like the tides. You control me, Osamu."
He shakes his head, and sighs deeply. If only you could see how wrong you were. He steps closer, moving his hand up your arm gently as he trails his way to your collarbone with ghost-like strokes.
"Did you know that sometimes when I'm laying in bed, all alone after a long day of controlling things, my only thoughts are about you?"
He confesses, sincerely. Dazai brings his face inches from yours, his voice now becoming a pleading whisper. His hand travels down to your waist, gripping it gently.
"Do you find it hard to believe that you bring me to my knees, the big scary Port Mafia boss? Because if so, you're a great fool! I love spending my time with you. I quite literally need you by my side in my times of need and at any random and mundane moment that passes. It brings me unimaginable joy when you nag me to get more sleep, especially when I don't listen because I can't wait to hear you say it over and over again. I don't like it when you have plans, or when you report to anyone else but me. I want you to stay with me tonight and every single night after and I don't care how awful this sounds. I don't care about you having a life outside of me."
Your throat feels tight, eyes wide at the fervor of his words alone. You reply with a shaky breath.
"Every single night after?"
"Every. Single. Night. After..."
"As if we were together?"
"We are together." He declares as if it were obvious this entire time.
Hearing Dazai be so blunt makes your mind fog over quickly, a whiplash of feelings that you never thought would ever see the light of day suddenly surface. He feels the same, realizing how much he's given away to you in such a short amount of time, but for him it's been rotting inside for years. He's been held together by the glue of your support too long not to kneel for you now. It's over for him, he's run out of masks to wear. He slowly guides your body backwards towards the opulent leather couch at the center of the room. You stop when you feel yourself backing up into the cool pebbled hide, and he slowly lowers you down onto your back with his arms supporting you. He delicately hovers over you, looking deeply into your eyes as he takes in the way your bodies feel against each other. For a moment he worries he might actually be trembling.
His breath hitches when you place a hand on the bandaged side of his face that covers his left eye. You stroke the fabric lightly, eyes twinkling with unfiltered adoration. He thinks about the only other person who's ever looked at him with such reverence, and how painful it is not to be able to tell his best friend he's in love. He leans into your touch, humming softly and closing his eyes as he molds his lips deeply into yours. It's not a kiss of sexual desire. This is a kiss born of romance and intimacy, a mutual oath of surrender. cold bandaged hands instinctively wander your body, starting at the waist down to your hips, and slowly exploring the plush of your thighs, kneading them. He runs them higher, lightly tracing your ribs with his index finger while the other hand cups your face. Dazai's mouth moves gently, and slowly pulls away from yours with a soft whine. His fingers trace your jawline as he stares at you. You taste like milk and honey. Like the moon and rain. He smiles at you, eyes sparkling like the night sky. You feel his heartbeat against your body. Every single pore of your skin is connected.
"Please— don't leave the Port Mafia, and don't leave me alone... Not tonight. Not ever. I'd become a tyrant without you."
"Is that also an order?" You murmur in between shallow breaths, dreamy eyes trained on him.
His eyes flicker over to your lips for a moment, then return to your eyes. His voice drops to something that resembles a soft whimper.
"Noo. No, it's not. I could never demand anything from you. But if you'll allow me to act selfishly, I just want to make you happy, to see you smile. I want you to keep greeting me with that tea you make every morning before our meetings. I also never want to hear you call me 'Sir' again. I am not your boss or your friend... I'm so much more than that. We've always been together. We will always be together— Is this too much?"
You shake your head, smiling uncontrollably at the way Dazai rambles in this moment, it's a side of him you've never seen in all the years you've known him. A stark contrast from the detached and cruel presence that frightens others on an almost daily basis. This seems like a person pretending to be the boss of the Port Mafia, an almost perfect imitation. You're not sure what barriers within him had to break for him to become the mushy and needy mess you see before you and what it all means in the long run, but you dismiss it for now. You get the feeling this might be the real Osamu Dazai. And that excites you.
"Never too much. I'm here and I'm staying. I would always stay."
He chuckles, it's a broken shaky laugh bordering on a sob. He buries himself in your neck, smiling against your soft skin, nibbling on it. He lightly runs his tongue against the mark he leaves, and slowly lifts his gaze to meet yours
"... I know you would. You always do."
You tilt your head, and hum in mild confusion at his odd little comment.
"Do you know something I don't?"
He flashes you a knowing smile and speaks prophetically as he lightly traces a finger over a large vein on your neck, following it down to your soft chest. He murmurs lazily while bringing his lips down to where he won't be able to get them off for the rest of the night.
"I know everything, silly.~"
The Port Mafia can wait, he's going home first.
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earthtooz · 1 year
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x : CHANGE YOUR MIND ! :*+゚
in which: it's 2 am and itoshi sae is outside your door, hoping for a second chance.
warnings: 1.2k words, angst to fluff with hurt/comfort, happy ending, exes to lovers, not at all realistic but it's itoshi sae ok and we're delusional, ooc!sae
a/n: second second chance romance fic for sae LOL he's just too easy to write for when it comes to exes to lovers. idk why the banner is so low quality but enjoy!
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you wonder where itoshi sae finds the nerve. after breaking up with you six months ago ‘for the sake of his career’, you never thought sae would have the gall to show up at your apartment, let alone at 2am, rudely disrupting your sleep.
yet, here he is. a soccer prodigy and superstar in the flesh, standing under the harsh lighting of your apartment hallway that always casts an ugly glow on everyone except sae.
“what are you doing here?” you ask, gripping the door handle a little tighter.
“i just got off the plane,” he answers, evading your question. 
“i know. i can see your suitcases.”
he doesn’t say anything more after that. before the breakup, you were able to read the untouchable itoshi sae, translating his stiff silences into words he could never say but wholeheartedly mean, breaking through his ego to then understand the messages of his heart. he only hopes that you can interpret the one he’s brought to you right now.
“can i come in?” asks the athlete, his question shy and lacking the usual demand that sits in his tone.
still, you furrow your eyebrows and stand your ground. “why on earth would i let you in?”
softness is a weapon that itoshi sae owns. he knows that with his typical hardened exterior the best way he can get through people sometimes is with pliability. even you have fallen for it.
he frowns, “because i’m tired and i want to sleep.”
“don’t you have your own five star hotel that your manager booked for you?” 
“can i just come in?”
the nerve. “itoshi, please leave.”
“i will, i will, but will you hear me out first?”
“what could you possibly have to say that you didn’t befo-”
“-i love you.”
the world stills.
the air around you becomes delicate and you’re too scared to breathe in fear of disrupting the silence, but it feels like the floor beneath you just crumbled and you’re falling through the debris. you’re falling and the only thing you can do is search for sae in the chaos. 
but you don’t hold on to him. no, not this time.
“that’s not fair, that’s not fair at all, sae, you can’t-” a sob tears your words apart, “-you can’t break my heart then come back six months later to tell me that you apparently love me, do you know how hard it was for me to just- ugh!”
in a fit of exasperation, you leave your post at the door and retreat back into your apartment. sae quietly slips through the crack you left open, closing the door with a soft click and you don’t even have the energy to chase him out. he even left his suitcases outside- not that anyone would take them at 4 in the morning. 
“you left me so abruptly and carelessly. we were together for almost a year, sae, yet you threw me aside, called me a burden and moved on with a snap of your fingers! was it easy? moving on like that?” 
instead of flinching at your yelling, sae simply stands at the entrance and accepts it, letting your words prick his skin and sink into him as if would make up for the pain you’ve been bathing in. 
“do you know what that did to me?” your voice is quiet now, turned down a few notches. 
he knows. he knows that you’ve been trying to get over it and not let the breakup impact your life too much, despite what he did. you’ve been going out with friends, treating yourself to everything you deserve, and finding a peace that he’s proud of you for. but sae also knows about the many nights you’ve spent crying and being sensitive to loving again, he hears about all of it from rin who lectured him when he first broke up with you and most likely, will lecture him again when he hears about sae’s unplanned visit.
sae was stupid and naive, but you were the first person he ever loved, and the world is colourless without your splash of influence. 
sae knows he shouldn’t be here existing in your space after everything, however, the instant he stepped off the plane, the first thing his heart wanted was to see one of the few things he loves about japan, you. 
“-so, please, just leave me alone and don’t come back,” you request.
the last thing sae is good at is following instructions, especially ones he doesn’t like.
“but, i love you,” he tries again. you fall to the couch with a defeated sigh, his persistence impaling your heart. 
“stop it.”
somehow, he’s now standing beside you. “do you still love me too?”
“sae-”
“-if you don’t love me anymore i’ll leave.”
with your head in your hands, you lie to him, “i don’t want you to stay either way.”
“another chance, i’ll make it right, i’ll fix it with my life, y/n, just please say you love me too.” 
“you’ll hurt me again.”
“i won’t,” he falls down onto the couch beside you, enveloping you with his frame. “i’ll be good and you can kill me if i’m not.”
you laugh. it’s dry and reserved, but you’re laughing and he begins rocking you side to side. “i don’t want to kill you.”
“rin will, then.”
you take your face out of your hands, looking at him properly for the first time since he arrived. “i-i don’t know, sae. you’ll leave again when you decide that you don’t want me.”
he doesn’t know how to tell you that whilst abroad, all he could think about was you. that during the mundane chores, the tedious trips to and from training, and all the times that he had won a match, he was thinking about you. 
he thought about you in the music he played whilst cleaning, he thought about taking you to a restaurant he saw whilst on the way, and his thoughts about you are loudest when he has a medal around his neck yet all he wants to know is whether or not you’re watching.
but you’re not beside him singing along whilst he was mopping his floors, you weren’t there in his car pointing out every fun detail you saw, and he didn’t even know if you wanted anything to do with soccer after what him. 
everytime, the yearning for you would grow, to the point that it lead him here when he should have gone to the hotel to wash up and sleep off the tiring trip instead.
but sitting here now and looking at your tear-stained face, he knows he’ll always prefer you- he’ll always find and choose you, so long as you let him. 
“give me another chance,” and i’ll show you that i’ll never leave again.
“fine,” you surrender after a moment of silence and sae feels like he could jump to the moon. “but we take things slow-”
“-i love you,” he repeats, grabbing your face and pushing you down on the couch, peppering an endless stream of kisses on your skin. sae’s outburst of affection and happiness is uncharacteristic but contagious. “i love you, i love you, i love you.”
between each declaration is sae kissing a new part of your face, showering your cheeks, forehead, nose- everywhere with unbridled adoration that he has been keeping locked up for too long. you’re real between his hands, you’re real in his hold, you’re real beneath him, and he doesn’t want this dream to end. his kisses feel like healing promises and you melt right into them. 
“i get it!” you giggle out, hands on his shoulders as to wrestle him off. “you don’t need to keep telling me, and promise me that we’re going to take it slow-”
a cold tear slides down your cheek, silencing your giggles. it’s not you who’s crying though, so you hug sae a little tighter.
something tells you that this second chance won’t backfire.
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zahri-melitor · 6 months
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One of the many tragedies of Jack Drake is that not only was he bad at being a parent, but that he had the perfect person to discuss how hard the experience was for him right there and yet the only conversation they ever have about parenting Tim is conducted at gunpoint.
Because look at Jack Drake. As far as he was concerned, he had everything under control until Janet died and his world fell apart.
Tim was a Good Kid™ as a kid. He was well behaved and polite and not a difficult child and that's obvious from the fact that many of his memories of his parents together are of being taken out in public. Jack and Janet had one kid and they clearly wanted that kid to enjoy the same things they did, so they took him with them to restaurants and museums and art galleries and the opera. And he enjoyed it and enjoyed that time with them.
Jack however clearly saw his role as a father and a husband in the very traditional position as the main provider. It was his job to work and bring in the income that supported their lifestyle (his depressive episode after losing the company and their having to move makes it very clear how much of his self-worth was tied up in that role). He had a son, but his time with Tim was pretty clearly about taking Tim out with him on a Saturday afternoon to watch sport, or play tennis with his friends, or go to the monster trucks, or go fishing: being able to spend a few hours with Tim and show him off to his friends and then return home and someone else took over looking after Tim. And in his mind, he clearly thought he was a good parent! He spent time with his son! His son was a credit who was worth showing off! He could take Tim with him when he and Janet went out for the evening, and Tim could be relied upon to behave. He was winning at being a father!
The part Jack never realised, of course, was that like many men in his position, he'd handed the day to day logistics of raising a kid over to his wife (Janet) and to people he paid to do it for him (Tim's boarding school). He wasn't the disciplinarian parent. He was the 'fun' parent, who got to have the good times with his child.
If Jack was ever actually involved in decisions about discipline and consequences of actions, it was probably at the ultimate stage: the 'wait til your father gets home' sort of threat. The nuclear option. He didn't handle the everyday stuff - he probably never SAW the everyday stuff.
So, Jack thinks he's a great parent. He can brag to his friends about how well behaved HIS child is, unlike those little ruffians you see screaming in public or whose parents can't take them anywhere because they're disruptive.
Then his world falls apart. He's injured and disabled and grieving. He's a single dad. And the kid he's got is suddenly not the child he remembers. Tim frequently acts out, lies, runs away and comes home with bruises and notes from school saying they’re worried something is going on. He also starts dating and possibly trying to have sex ‘too young’ (being caught with Ariana sleeping over and the couch situation, Steph being pregnant even if Tim insisted it wasn't his).
Jack Drake has to suddenly step up to be the main parent of a 14 year old who he's probably never had that dynamic with. He doesn't have the years of experience in how Tim reacts to various forms of boundaries and punishments, because he's never been the one who set them or enforced them. He's probably never sat down and talked to Tim about his feelings in his life. And Tim, I repeat, is fourteen years old, possibly one of the most difficult ages for a kid. Everyone's 14 year olds are suddenly more difficult than usual and pushing boundaries.
On top of that, he's got to learn this all on the fly, in circumstances where he basically has no support. "Help, I'm a new single father to a teenager' isn't really a genre of self help book or parenting group that gets a lot of love - most people who are single parents aren't men, and most people looking for advice on dealing with problems with raising their kids are talking about under-5s, because by the time kids are out of the toddler stage most parents have a reasonable idea of what works and what doesn't, have networks set up, and are usually reaching out for a bit of advice or support about a specific situation, not Dealing With It All.
What Jack really needs is a buddy or two who are also single fathers to teenage boys, who have experience navigating this, maybe who also acquired responsibility for their son in his teen years. Wow. I mean that's a big ask, but funnily enough, there's someone who lives right next door who exactly fits that description...
(The tragedy that Bruce and Jack only ever have the one discussion about parenting Tim, the kid they've been effectively co-parenting since Tim was 13 years old, and that that discussion took place with Jack holding a gun on Bruce).
So of course Jack is terrible at being a parent to Tim. He's inexperienced, he doesn't have any support, he doesn't SEEK support outside of marrying Dana (and Dana clearly while lovely is both ineffective and reluctant to interfere in Jack and Tim's relationship). Now, he fails on very specific axes, in ways that are both understandable and also signs that Jack has a bad handle on his temper.
His go-to threat is sending Tim back to boarding school, because: when Tim was at boarding school, Jack didn't have any discipline issues with Tim! It clearly worked!; Tim doesn't want to go back to boarding school, making it a threat to hold over him; again, Jack's seeing a kid who is sneaking around, lying, running away and he's at his wits end - there's a narrative in the circles he lives in that such kids DO need to be taught to behave and sending them to boarding school is a way to do that.
He runs hot and cold on paying attention to Tim because up until Tim was 14 that was...what he did! And it wasn't such an issue then, as he wasn't a single parent. And when he pays attention, he does tend to be focused (laser focused, in fact), in getting Tim out of No Man's Land, of the dramas at school during Cry of the Huntress when Jack's getting outraged over Tim's bruises and getting into fights, when he's arguing with Ariana's uncle over whether Tim and Ariana's relationship was going too far.
It's just that he never developed the day to day, in between level of parenting and boundary setting and discipline. He's got a temper, and he swings between "it'll be fine, Tim's a smart kid, I trust him" laid back permissiveness, and getting mad and going immediately to the nuclear option: "You are going back to boarding school!" and so on.
He doesn't know how to walk away and calm himself down when he's worked up. He's not particularly good at redirecting his aggression. And he gets easily frustrated, because in his mind everything went smoothly for years...until it was all his responsibility.
And the thing is, there are so many ways Jack could have tried harder to be a good parent, that were available to him. But because of his background and the culture he lived in and the demands of storytelling he never reached out for any of them.
(And Bruce was right there! They knew each other socially! Everyone knew Bruce had worked through having two teenage sons on his own! He could have asked for advice, and he even knew Bruce knew Tim, given Bruce had officially fostered Tim while Jack was in a coma and in hospital. If you were putting together a specific support group you'd kick yourself over how perfect this was)
It's just such a part of the tragedy of Jack Drake.
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