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#AND I COULD'VE GONE ON FOR LONGER MAN
oneslimybastard · 2 years
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Watched ManlyBadassHero play 'The Repairing Mantis' earlier today and fuuuuuck meeeee. One of the more brilliant implementations of surrealism and game mechanics to deliver a really haunting narrative imo anyway here comes a BRAINWORM RANT. The disturbing graphics contrasted against the squirrels' kinda cute designs and chipper dialogue lines, the emotional gut-punch when they grow less chipper, the things the gameplay forces you to do as the mantis. The mantis cuts a squirrel's wing off as it trembles and is left with a fleshy wound, but it has nothing to say about it and just assures you that it was happy to help ("That's what friends do!"). Its animations are even more so fearful and cowering as you cut its other wing off, but it still has nothing to say about it other than that its happy to help a friend as it continues to work towards its own dream. The emotional dissonance is immense, but the squirrel probably isn't lying as much as it just doesn't notice the harm being done to it. The squirrels all ask you to "help" them and the "help" always involve meaty mutilations of their bodies, nothing which concerns them. What breaks them is the realization that the dream they've strived for wasn't what they wanted at all. The metaphor is both obvious and diluted. It's about achieving dreams and the emptiness that can come afterwards, obviously, it's basically written in big red glowing letters. But its all the little ambiguous details that really add to it. Like the moths, what do they mean? How do they play into it? And the mantis herself, this "helpful" force that does what everyone asks of her and ends up just assisting them in losing all their hopes and dreams.
If I were to give my take on it, I'd assign the moths as agents of Reality. The first squirrel complains that its stomach hurts and its because there's a moth in there. You never learn what it says other than from context clues, but I wonder if it told the squirrel that times have changed, circumstances have changed, the dream is still achievable but it won't look the same — and where you thought all sacrifices had already been made, there is still one left. The mantis has already taken the squirrel's wings and cut its stomach open, but the thing that actually sparks fear in the squirrel is the prospect of losing its tail.
A sacrifice it wasn't ready to make, but had to anyway. That leap of faith which either hurt like a bitch if you go for it or you bitterly have to reenact later in life knowing you might have already missed your shot.
The first squirrel still, as mutilated as it is, seems to be a success-story, where all the following squirrels are hollow pantomimes. Squirrels who want to fly because the first squirrel wanted to fly and it managed to and surely acquired happiness, so if they all learn to fly they will be happy too. I think its very deliberate that these are all flying squirrels who still want to learn how to fly.
Especially considering the thing the first Squirrel was so happy to give up while building a flying machine was its wings. Our authentic selves are not good enough to be considered a tool in achieving these grandiose larger than life ambitions. There is a doubtless allure in the prospect of breaking yourself down into bloody chunks for the sake of success, even when you do not need to and are arguably just making it more difficult for yourself.
It's why I think the mantis can be a stand-in for so many things. Overly supportive enablers, get rich quick schemes, nepotism, or a force of self destruction masking as productivity or innovation. All these squirrels had to do to fly was catch a breeze and let their little skin flaps do the job they were designed to do, but none of them did.
It wasn't good enough.
As an ~Artist~ the emotional parallels are pretty intense so yeah, it's gonna haunt me for a bit. As someone who likes to support people I care about unconditionally it's gonna haunt me for a bit, even if I don't think its directly relevant to me or my life. Especially one of the endings where it's proposed that utterly shattering someone's wide eyed dream along with their heart, beat their life's work to pieces, might be the best course of action.
It's a horrifying thought, and I think 'The Repairing Mantis' meditates on the worst of outcomes when ideas and aspirations and passions loose their foothold in reality and get lost in dreamland, and how attractive that spectacle can be for onlookers to imitate.
It's a beautiful game, truly an unique testament to the potency of narrative horror games, I don't think it could have struck as many chords as it did with me in any other medium.
10/10 dont build bridges out of squirrels.
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moongothic · 10 months
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Honestly I think crocodile/dragon and crocodile/Doflamingo are only interesting when treated as failed relationships spinning off into increasingly petty grudges and instigations. Become a warlord to piss off one ex by working with his hated father only for the OTHER ex to ALSO become a warlord to drive you insane. Etc.
I am now going to take his as an opportunity to rant about Dragodile because I unironically think it's an interesting ship if Crocodad Real and I don't think I'm ever going to find a better excuse to rant about it unprompted lmao SO HERE WE GO
But yes like. Dragodile is so fucking interesting to me
A marine and a pirate falling in love with each other is already some starcrossed lovers kinda BS. But then it's like, a FORMER marine and pirate who is WORKING FOR THE GOVERNMENT. That's EXTRA JUICY, it adds layers to the starcrossed lovers shit, and I am not immune to it, it's FACINATING, like what was the dynamic here
But also we don't even know when Dragon left the marines and when he and Crocodile first met, so for all we know it could've been some real enemies-to-lovers-to-enemies shit AND THAT'S SO INTERESTING
(Also the mere concept that Dragon could've been chasing Crocodile around kinda like Smoker tried to chase Luffy, only for Crocodile to become a Shichibukai and Dragon having to give up because they're on the same side now (kinda). Like. That is so fucking funny. And then he leaves the Marines to start a revolution. Or just out of spite dshgjdgs)
Then there's the absolutely hysterical part where Crocodile is the meanest, most intimidating, standoff-ish asshole around. So the idea Dragon was fucking into that is INCREDIBLE. THIS MAN LIKES BEING BULLIED DFSHFKGHFGJHDS (It's possible Young Croc might've been less mean but it's funnier if he wasn't)
And yeah. Somehow. In complete secret. A romance blooms.
And then there's a baby.
And Crocodile transes his gender.
And there's a divorce.
And 17 years later Crocodile has commited dozens of unforgivable warcrimes that are almost exactly the kind of things Dragon wanted to stop the government from doing to begin with.
Mind you, I don't actually think there's coming back from that, this relationship was burned to the ground and the ashes blown away by wind, there is nothing left
But could you imagine if despite the anger and the hurt and the warcrimes they still somehow loved each other
I would just
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#Moon posting#Crocodad#Sir Crocodile#Monkey D Dragon#Dragodile#OP Meta#I keep on mentioning Dragodile Divorce but to be fair we don't even know if they had been married#All we do have is the fact that Crocodile Very Specifically doesn't wear a ring on his ring finger (in the manga)#(First half of Alabasta it's his middle finger but from the second half onwards it's consistently been his ring finger)#And there's that SBS where a person asked if the Shichibukai were gonna remain single etc and if they had any kids#And Oda was like ''hMmM I wOnDeR iF aNy oF tHeM hAvE bEeN mArRiEd... Anyway I imagine their kids would be like this''#And then very very specifically he only did Doflamingo Mihawk and **Crocodile**#So like. If Crocodad Real. The two could've been married briefly (in secret). Probably just engaged in my personal opinion#Also like. Like we all know Iva's Magic HRT is POWERFUL STUFF right#There is something so deeply tragic to me about the just the mental image#Of Crocodile trying to put on his engagement ring post-HRT only to realize it doesn't fit his massive man hand#Like a horrible premonition of how this relationship was going to end#Even if he was the same on the inside he no longer literally fit the mere concept of the woman Dragon had fallen in love with#Can you imagine the series of emotions Crocodile would've gone through realizing that#Or who knows maybe he realized it all much earlier-- when and however the fuck he decided to get HRT from Iva-chan#There is much to be said about One Piece's running theme of loneliness and the loneliness queer people experience#God Oda please I need this man's backstory#I need to know what the fuck happened#I NEED TO KNOW HOW THE DIVORCE HAPPENED#NGL there's a part of me that almost hopes Dragon was Objectively Horrible (in a heated moment that he really regrets)#Just so Crocodile could be at least a little justified in being at resentful towards Dragon#I dunno it would not sit too well with me if the Cishet Man Dragon was 100% In The Right And Never Did Anything Wrong#And then it's the transgender man who does all the morally questionable horrible shit because he's an evil queer#(There's more than plenty of positive queer rep in OP to balance out one (1) evil trans character don't get me wrong)#(But it would be sad if Crocodile was An Evil Queer especially because he's the one who has transitioned)
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ioannemos · 27 days
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the new hire: somehow, inexplicably, does not turn this whole thing around within the first month
boss:
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me:
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pumakaji64 · 2 years
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Scarlet/Violet is so fucking frustrating because there is genuinely a good game with a lot of love buried underneath all the... well y'know-
like i genuinely think it could've been one of the best pokemon games out there if it had another year or two to like cook...
anyway unionize gamefreak-
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anisespice · 5 months
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“ accidents happen ” || tokyo rev.
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cont.
synopsis: in which they discover you had their child and kept it from them all these years later.
pairing: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, ran, sanzu ]
warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. mature language, crude humor, angst (if you squint really hard), deadbeat!bonten (unintentionally), not proof-read so there may be errors lol and i think that’s it :))
notes: i just want the drama >:) may make more parts, and even extend said headcannons into longer fics in the future, but wanted to post something quick for mother’s day. hope you enjoy!
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When you disappeared off the face of the earth, MIKEY had never been the same. One fight. One argument that spiraled out of control, and you were just gone...
He had people looking for you for about a couple years, the trail ran cold after a while and he had half a mind to think you were dead. Up until he got intel of your whereabouts one morning during a meeting.
That man got up and left immediately.
He wasn’t accompanied with any of his men, only because he didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention in the broad daylight. Sure, him wearing a black hood, ball cap, and mask in a park didn’t really help him look inconspicuous but it at least concealed his identity enough for him to blend in. Mikey sat on a bench for a good forty minutes, anxious, making anyone who passed him shiver from his intense aura alone; even birds walked around him. After almost an hour of waiting, he began to feel frustrated. Perhaps, the intel was false. Just as he went to stand, already conjuring up ways to have Sanzu execute the idiot who wasted his time, he heard it.
Your voice. Seizing him, like a siren’s call.
His eyes were alert, darting around until they landed on your figure, spotlighted by the sun, like an angel descending from the heavens. You looked good, healthy. That was good. An array of emotions fought for their turn in Mikey’s heart—Relief, distress, anger, nostalgia. He couldn’t just pick one, especially when it came to you. As he watched from his spot, doing his best to not seem suspicious, he clocked the people you were approaching with excitement, your peppy stride as you waved at, what he presumed, to be mother and daughter.
However, his entire world turned upside down when the little girl extended out her arms towards you, and said “Mama!”
“Hello, my darling.~” You cooed, taking her into your awaiting arms from the woman, embracing the toddler tightly. “Mama missed you so much.”
“Missed you, mama!” was the child’s reply, followed by her giggles.
A bucket of cold water would’ve been better than this. Watching you converse with who he now assumes to be the babysitter, Mikey felt faint. Vision blurring, head pounding, heart clenching. You…you…no. There’s no way. You wouldn’t have moved on…you couldn’t have, not like this, not from him. You loved him, didn’t you? You still love him, didn’t you?
How could you…how could you?
Before he knew it, he started to follow you around. From the park, to the store, all the way back to your apartment. He already phoned some of the executives to start working in on the babysitter, and anyone else in your new found circle for information. He wanted answers. He needed them.
By the time you began fixing dinner, with your daughter laid down for a nap, you receive a knock at your door. Who could that be at this hour?
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RAN was chilling outside the rendezvous spot for something the boss and a few other execs were participating in, having a smoke, minding his business, up until he sees a little girl with pigtails wearing a school uniform approaching, standing before him and just…staring. She barely came up to his thighs, could've been no older than seven. She was practically staring into his soul with bright lavender eyes that scarily reminded him of Rin’s when he was that age.
He stared back, head tilted as he blew out the smoke from the corner of his mouth. The hell was a kid doing on this side of town?
Then, after an uncomfortable staring contest, the little girl points at his cigarette. “My ma says those things are bad for you.”
Ran raised a brow, “Does she now?”
“Mmhm! She says it makes people unhappy.”
He offered a thoughtful nod, an amused grin spreading across his face. “Mm. Do I look unhappy?”
The girl looked at Ran for a minute, eyes squinted. Eventually, she shook her head. “No. But, ma also says people who are always unhappy get better at hiding it.”
Ran’s grin faltered. Her unwavering stare started to unnerve him, especially after hearing such a heavy statement come from such a small package.
After a brief moment of silence, he chuckled softly, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it away. He exhaled. “Smart woman.”
The little girl beamed, “Mmhm! My ma knows a lot of stuff.”
“Tsk. But not ‘Stranger Danger’, apparently.”
She tilted her head, curious. “Huh?”
“You shouldn’t be wandering around by yourself, let alone approaching someone you don’t know. ‘s not safe. Especially for nosy little girls who stick their noses in other people’s business. Your ma never taught you that?”
The little girl rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. “Duh. Of course she did. Everyone knows that rule,” she exasperated. Ran snorted, but yielded when she squinted at him, pointing as she sassed. “And I do so know you, so you’re not a stranger.”
This time, Ran couldn’t help the incredulous laugh. “Oh, you know me, huh? That’s not good. ‘m supposed to keep a low profile. Say, you ain’t a cop are you?” He teased, earning another eye roll.
“No. Too small to be a cop, dummy.”
“Oh, pardon me, I didn’t notice. Where do you know me from, then?”
The little girl pointed over to the building..where the executives were having their meeting. She beamed, “Ma’s works in there. On important people days she can’t get me from school, so she tells me to come straight here, and to not talk to the purple man that stands near the building. She says you’re mean.”
Ran smirked, then gave a half-hearted shrug.
“She also says you’re my pa. But, I never believed her. You’re too old.”
Ran’s smirk dropped.
Whether more from the first comment or the last, you decide. But, one thing was for certain: he needed another cigarette.
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SANZU cackled watching some guy struggle to round up a couple of rowdy twins at the convenience store. One was knocking shit off the shelves while the other ran circles around the guy. It was what he needed for his bitch of a hangover, a good laugh to distract from the ache in his skull.
However, he wasn’t laughing for long when you came around the corner of the isle, holding a few items with a smile on your face that soon faded once you saw the scene unfolding before you; the pinkette thought he was still tripping balls. Blinking a few times to allow any after effects of the drugs to clear up, when you didn’t disappear he used his long legs to swiftly yeet behind one of the shelves, peering around it like some paranoid stalker. The last time you had spoken, you had threatened to castrate him with your teeth if you ever saw him again.
And he’d be damned if he tried your bluff.
He watched in awe as you straightened those twins up quick. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought they were trained to obey you, and only you. Any other authority be damned. While the guy was putting all the stuff back on the shelves, sweaty and out of breath, you gently reprimanded them for causing trouble. You still made that cute pouty face you always did whenever you were mad at him…
“What did we talk about earlier? Hm? Mr. Satoru was very kind to help mama today, you know. You two promised me you’d be on your best behavior for him.”
Sanzu gagged. This was the rebound you let nut in you? This huffy moron who can’t handle a couple of ankle biters, this was your king? He had half a mind to just gut the guy to put him out of his misery from that pathetic display from earlier, alone. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be back home. He remembers when he was that age—Rowdy, reckless, the Antichrist. Adorable, but deadly. God bless that poor bastard’s soul.
Wait…Mister? Not…dad?
The first twin whined, stomping their feet. “He’s too boringggg!”
Come to think of it…if Sanzu squinted…the longer he looked at the little family…he swore the more he saw the resemblance of himself in the tiny gremlins. From the hair, to the eyes, all the way down to the mannerisms…Hang on. When had been the last time you two fucked? Three…no, was it four years ago?
The second twin huffed, pointing at the man. “Yeah! And he’s jus’ being nice so that he can sleep in your bed, mama!”
You flushed, nervously chuckling as you looked around to make sure no one heard. Sanzu ducked behind a bag of chips, now nothing but eyes peeking through the gaps of food on the shelf.
So…that loser’s not the father? Then…could that mean..?
“He’s mama’s boyfriend, remember? He’s allowed to do that. And he’ll be around for a while, so I want you two to be nice, okay?”
“…okay, mama.” They grumbled.
Sanzu almost popped a blood vessel, fist clenched around a bag of Lays and nearly busting it. He chuckled darkly, “Oh. We’ll see about that.”
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© 2024-2025 anisespice ッ all rights reserved.
likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!
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sunsburns · 13 days
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okay but logan taking an interest in neighbor who works in fashion?? he always sees her carrying stacks of magazines, dressed in her chic attire that is sometimes a bit too tight in all the right areas, glasses slipping off her nose, always making calls on that damn phone, and yet he always wishes she looked his way…
oh anon ur cooking here. i think this is what's pulling me out of my writing slump 🥴 (wade breaking the fourth wall, suggestive 16+)
the first time he noticed you, it wasn't even in your building complex, but rather the stairs to the subway station down the street. you were rushing up the steps while he, wade, laura and al were just about to enter. it was al who noticed you first, calling out your name and poking your side with her walking staff.
you shrieked, dropping one of the fabric rolls you had been carrying, a curse at the tip of your tongue before you realized who it was. "al," you sighed, a little relieved, when you saw her and wade, who was dressed in a "i love nyc" t-shirt.
logan, being the gentleman he was, picked up the roll you dropped, handing it back to you. it was then that you looked at him, or well, briefly glanced his way with a quick "thank you" before wade started fucking talking.
that son of a bitch.
he didn't even have the courtesy to introduce the two of you to each other.
it was obvious you were in a rush, lips in a tight smile as you nodded and tried to smile at wade telling you all about how they were about to "hit up" times square.
logan felt bad for you, but only a little bit. the longer you stayed to listen to wade's painful monologue, the more he could look at you. he was a little shameless about it, perhaps not the most gentlemanly thing he could've done, but god you were just a sight for sore eyes.
a pretty thing in a mini skirt despite the cool late september breeze that was starting to kick, white, lace and ruffled. delicate with tall brown leather boots. and a washed-out denim vest you wore as a top, two buttons undone, a little pink bow tied to the pocket. logan didn't know a lot about fashion, but he liked the way clothes looked on you.
and then you were gone, al kicking wade across the shin to shut him the hell up when she realized you were in a rush. she let you go, and you left, quickly trading numbers with laura and without saying much of a goodbye or another glance logan's way.
but he watched you go, watched the way your skirt moved with the wind too.
"yeah, look at it bounce. god, i am no better than any man. " wade hummed, leaning all his weight on logan's side. "i didn't peg you as a creep, honey badger. with the way you were undressing the reader with your eyes, i would've thought you were on a registered sex offender's list."
"shut the fuck up, wade."
logan could hear the way laura snorted, her and al continuing their way down the stairs.
wade held his hands up in surrender before logan could try anything (and by anything, he meant to cut him to pieces. wade can't deal with that right now, the blood would take ages to get off his white shirt). "i'm just saying, after living with us for a few months, i would've thought you'd met her by now."
logan raised his brow, "what's that supposed to mean?"
"i mean, she literally lives across the hall." wade turned his head to the side, pointing his thumb at logan, "he can't possibly be this stupid, right? it's gotta be for the plot to build up tension or something."
from that day on, logan's started to notice you more. not that he was looking for you, he's not that big of a creep. but he's spotted you out the window some days, running down the sidewalk, always in a rush. then he was able to hear the way you slam your door shut when you leave in the mornings or when you get back home.
every single day, you're usually out and about. unless it's a sunday, those are the days you stay in your apartment, sewing and hanging out with blind old al and sometimes even fucking laura. turns out, you were the one who got laura all of those new clothes, made them for her.
jesus christ, how out of the loop was he?
you stood out like a sore thumb, always carrying something. whether it be magazines, sketchbooks, fabric rolls, or bags, you're always struggling to open your door when you get home, keys sometimes slipping from your grasp as you're trying to juggle everything.
one day, logan had come back from a run and spotted you in the hallway. well, he had heard you from floors below and was able to pick up the lingering scent of your perfume by the time he entered the lobby. it took him a bit of courage to walk up the few flights of stairs knowing he'd bump into you.
what the fuck was this?
he was a grown-ass man for god's sake. you had him overthinking and blushing at the mere thought of being in the same space again.
when he saw you in the hallway, you were on the phone, the device tucked between your ear and your shoulder, cursing under your breath as you tried to pick up your keys. you were wearing a black dress that day, a black hat and a big maroon scarf around your neck, "no, emily, don't fucking buy it in that colour. it looks like fucking vomit. i don't care what amy told you, she's basically colour blind-"
you stopped mid-sentence when logan appeared in front of you, grabbing the keys for you. "oh- uh. thanks."
"yeah, no problem."
he noticed your nails and glasses were dark red to match the scarf. lipstick too.
you didn't mean to grow flustered in his presence, he could tell from the way you froze, as if you didn't know what was supposed to happen next. he had disrupted your daily pattern, everything in your life moving constantly and quickly but all of a sudden everything is slower. it left you breathless.
"you're logan, right?"
he furrowed his brows. he hadn't expected you to remember him, nevertheless, remember his name. "yeah."
"wade told me all about you," you said, and your eyes dropped from his face a little, then lower, a smirk not too different from a sly cat's. you were staring shamelessly, eyes following every part and curve of his body, the way his long-sleeve shirt clung to his skin with sweat. "you don't seem austrailan."
logan tried not to groan. the picture of wade's stupid face in his mind now that you've mentioned him. he hated that the two of you seemed close. "i'm canadian."
"aren't you full of surprises?" you laughed, a smooth, teasing sound, and finally pushed the keys into the nob, unlocking the door. you turned, lingering by the door as if you were about to invite him in, but then the voice from your phone was trying to get your attention and you nearly seemed disappointed. "i'll see you around, logan."
and you were gone again.
logan liked to see your different outfits every day, dawning a different style every time you walked out that door. it was like you could never settle for one style, but you managed to look so fucking good in everything and every colour you put on.
he could never get tired of it. never get tired of you.
you and your tiny bottoms that he swore were getting smaller and smaller every day, even though the city grew colder and the days shorter. you and your stupid phone calls that sometimes went on late at night. you and your clothes, every single one different from the last.
you and your sketches, the ones he had started to find loose pages on the floor of the small hallway between your apartments, pretty designs of lingerie on a model that looked a little bit too much like you for it to be a coincidence.
though you never made another attempt to talk to him, you knew he was watching you. but you never chased, your heels were too expensive for that. you were just trying to give him a reason to come on you.
to you**
to come to you.*
sorry. typo.
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wolviensabes · 2 months
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Logan gets jealous so he decides to make sure you know who you belong to. MDNI
I love jealousy scenarios so much. So here is one with Logan <3 Still figuring out how to write him so keep that in mind too. It came out to be much longer than I thought lmaooo. Possibly will revise later but for now I just wanted to get it out.
Rating: Mature/Smut
Warnings: Afab reader, jealous/possessive Wolvie, brief spanking, fingering, oral (both receiving and giving), deepthroat/throat fucking, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink. Unedited, I worked on this for three days and I'm too lazy.
WC: 5k
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The moment you got home, he could smell it. That scent on your jacket, your shirt, your skin. It made his nose scrunch up in a way that was impossible to miss. He glared down at you, his eyes narrowing as that stranger's smell seemed to seep deeper into your skin with every passing second. You, completely oblivious to it all, casually hung up your jacket on the rack, not sensing the tension in the air. As you turned back to face him, you couldn't help but notice the intensity of his stare.
"What's wrong?" you asked, genuinely puzzled by the look on his face, which was now a mix of confusion and anger. His reaction made you take a step back, trying to understand what could have possibly caused such a strong response.
Sure, you weren't stupid. Logan was always protective of you, and maybe it was that asshole in the store who kept pestering you with questions about where certain groceries were located. Maybe it was because he stood so uncomfortably close that his shoulder brushed against yours, or perhaps it was the intrusive hand he splayed on your back. You felt a deep sense of discomfort with his touch, and tried giving him clear and concise instructions, hoping to get the man to leave you alone as quickly as possible. The whole situation made you feel uneasy, and Logan had seen it from down the aisle.
His first instinct was to slice that man into pieces and leave him on the ground, but he couldn't do that. Not in the middle of the grocery store anyway. He could feel his blood boiling and his muscles tensing up as he stared intently at the man walking off, every fiber of his being urging him to take action. You let out a breath of relief, feeling the tension dissipate slightly, and turned back to the shelves, trying to focus on the mundane task at hand.
Grocery shopping was one of your least favorite things. You didn't like being around so many people, and that man was a prime example of why.
With a shaky hand, you grabbed the bag of chips you wanted, hoping that the simple act of shopping would help you regain some sense of calmness. You couldn't help but glance over your shoulder, just to make sure the man was really gone, before continuing down the aisle to Logan's side.
He said nothing about it, so you assumed he wasn't concerned at all. This lack of reaction from him made you feel a little more grounded and reassured. If Logan wasn't reacting, then maybe that guy was just some harmless idiot and not someone to worry about.
You made the conscious decision to stick next to Logan for the rest of the trip, not bothering to split up and go farther down the aisle as you had done before. The silence between you and Logan seemed to confirm that everything was alright, and you found yourself relaxing more as you walked together.
But you were wrong about his outward stoicism. He was fuming inside.
Not at you, of course, but that man who had the nerve to touch you. Asking where something is in the grocery store already annoyed him, the damn aisles are numbered and have the product written above them. He could've just looked at the signs instead of talking to you and touching you.
Logan let out a deep, throaty growl, staring intensely at you now that you two were back home, the familiar surroundings providing a stark contrast to the tension in the air. "That bastard really pissed me off," he spat, his voice dripping with anger and frustration, his eyes darkened with a mixture of rage and possessiveness. "The damn nerve of him to come up and touch what isn't his," he continued, his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. Those deadly blades nearly poking out on instinct.
"That guy is what's bothering you?" you questioned softly, understanding how he might feel after witnessing the stranger be so close to you at the store, having the gall to actually touch you too. You weren't happy about it either, but you tried to keep your cool to show him it didn't bother you, even when it did, so he wouldn't react. "Logan, he was just an assho-"
Your voice was abruptly cut off as his hands slammed forcefully into the wall on either side of your head, creating a resounding echo. He was now standing directly in front of you, so close that you could feel the heat of his breath warming your face. The distinct smell of cigar smoke and musk emanated from him, enveloping you in their combined, heady aroma, you could feel your core clench and dampen.
Your heart pounded in your chest at the close proximity, feeling as though it might burst through your ribcage with each passing second. He took a deep breath, the rise and fall of his chest steady and rhythmic, almost hypnotic in the stillness of the moment. His eyes, which were usually dark and troubled, bored into you with an intensity that was both unsettling and captivating. Now, however, they held an expression you could only describe as fierce and feral, a primal emotion that sent shivers down your spine.
"You are mine, princess," he declared, his voice low and possessive. "Clearly, I don't show it enough now do I?" His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning and unspoken promises, leaving you breathless as your body was reacting quickly to his words.
His eyes scanned you, running down your body and to your core, his lips upturned in a smirk, "You naughty girl." His voice was gravelly, clearly enjoying the new scent of arousal that he could smell as obvious as a candle burning in front of you. He grabbed you, his calloused hands clasped around the back of your plush thighs and swiftly lifted you up and over his shoulder. He held you still as he turned and carried you effortlessly through the halls and up to your bedroom.
"Logan!" You let out a small yelp as you were effortlessly thrown over his muscular shoulder. He carried you with ease, striding confidently through the room, only to be answered with the quick swing of your body being thrown down onto the bed. You landed with a grunt, the impact bouncing you slightly on the mattress. You looked up at him, standing over you with a commanding presence. His eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down your spine. He reached down, tugging your pants off with a swift motion, letting them drop onto the floor by your feet.
"Hush..." he grumbled, his voice carrying a rough edge as he threw his shirt off with a swift motion. You couldn't help but stare at his chest and abdomen, packed with well-defined muscles that flexed and rippled as he tossed the shirt carelessly to the side. Each movement seemed to highlight his features, he glanced back down at you after he had thrown the shirt off, rolling his shoulders back.
You had seen him shirtless many times before, yet your reaction was always the same. It was as if his physique had a magnetic pull, making it impossible to look away. The sight of him never ceased to leave you in awe, and it seemed each time you saw him like this, you discovered something new to admire.
He lifted his hand slowly, fingers curling tightly to form a fist, and with a deliberate motion, one of his three adamantium blades began to slide out from within him. The slow, smooth sound of it grazing through his knuckles and tender flesh, emerging inch by inch until it was fully exposed, sent a shiver down your spine and made you swallow thickly. The gleam of the claw in the dim light only added to the tension, and you had a pretty clear idea of what he was going to do next.
He leaned down, the claw gently trailing from your knee and up your thigh, moving slowly and deliberately, right up until he reached your center. The sensation was both thrilling and unnerving. Most would flinch at having such a thing near them, the sharp metallic edge so close to their skin, (especially when it came to the person wielding it), but you didn't. You trusted him completely, and while you felt a mix of excitement and slight uncertainty fill you, you stayed still for him, your heart pounding in your chest.
As the claw continued its path until it laid against the center of your panties, you felt goosebumps rise from your skin, each tiny bump cause by the mixture of sensations rushing through you. The cool metal chilled your body, leaving what felt to be an icy trail on your warm skin, contrasting sharply with the heat of your own flesh. The experience was almost surreal, like a dance between fire and ice, and you found yourself lost in the moment, every nerve ending heightened, every touch magnified.
You could sense his intent, the care with which he moved, and it only deepened your trust. He'd never actually harm you, and besides, it was fun to include them. The blade traveled farther up your body, under your shirt until it poked out of your collar near your neck. He glanced at you before jerking his arm back and swiftly tearing your shirt completely in half.
Your gasp was loud and sudden, your eyes widening with shock as you watched him effortlessly rip your shirt off with his sharp claw. He trailed it slowly down your chest, gliding it with a deliberate and almost teasing motion across your body, allowing you to feel its cold, metallic touch on the tender and delicate skin of your soft belly. The claw was lethal, easily capable of inflicting ruthless injury or ending your life in an instant.
But he doesn't, and you know he wouldn't.
The thrill of the danger, the razor's edge between safety and peril, heightened your senses like never before, leaving you acutely aware of every sensation and emotion coursing through you.
You reached down with a deliberate, yet tender motion and gently held his wrist, feeling the warmth of his skin against your fingers. With careful precision, you guided his hand upwards to your chest, allowing his large palm to come to rest over your breast. His nostrils flared with a sharp breath, signaling his heightened awareness. Your tongue slowly emerged, and you carefully licked the side of his claw, a metallic taste and cool sensation on your taste buds.
The way your tongue slid over the blade, oh so carefully, made him growl and it retracted once he saw your tongue was safely out of the way. You whined quietly, you were having fun teasing him. "You wanna be a tease, do you?" His voice grunted out, he jerked you up and tossed you to the floor, your knees hit the carpet and you whined.
He paused only for a second, then he fiddled with his belt and tugged it out of the loops in one jerk. The act of that made you quiver below him, blinking up as he harshly unbuttoned his jeans, pushing them down and his thick cock sprang out of his boxers. Red and angry, the tip completely blushed and shiny with the precum that had been spread on his tip.
His hand reached for your hair, grabbing onto it and tugging you closer. His cock brushed against your cheek as he used his other hand to position it at your mouth, "Open," he demanded lowly to you. Your jaw relaxed and your lips parted, allowing his salty tip to slide into your mouth.
You swirled your tongue around the blushed flesh, tasting and cleaning his sticky cockhead. He grunted in response, a pleased sound ripples through his throat as he pushed himself farther into your warm mouth. Your tongue was a soft cushion for the underside of his dick, he relished feeling it with each thrust into your throat.
Logan's grip tightened on your hair, his fingers tangling and pulling with a possessive intensity. He growled deeply, the sound vibrating through his chest, and pulled you even closer to him. You made a muffled whine, a desperate sound that escaped your lips, your eyes looking up at him from where you were below, wide and pleading. He almost looked completely feral, his eyes wild and dark with an unrestrained hunger. He huffed as his chest rose and fell quickly, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts, the tension between you almost palpable.
"You belong to me, princess. I'm going to make sure every single part of you remembers that. Even when I'm done fucking you." Logan growled out, watching his cock disappear in your throat as he thrust his hips forward. The sudden intrusion into your throat made your eyes widen and you gagged, not expecting him to do that.
"That's it, who's cock do you gag on? Mine. Who's cock do you like to suck on, hm?" He angled you more to look at him while keeping himself safely tucked into you mouth, the tip of his dick brushing up and down the fleshy, soft meat on the back of your throat. Bubbles of saliva popped at the corners of your mouth as he continued to thrust in and out of your throat, each time hitting the back and sliding down.
"Ugh, yeah...that's it...take it down, pup," he chuckled and watched you struggle to take him with each thrust, you still did your best to attempt to swallow all of him, knowing how it drives him crazy seeing you choke. "Slobber all over my cock, mine...the only cock that you get."
Logan grunted lowly, the sound vibrated from his chest and through his throat, his eyes closing as he focused and you could feel his dick twitching inside your mouth. "Here it comes, princess, be a good girl and swallow it." His voice was dominant and demanding, you prepared for his thick, heavy load that was soon to coat your tongue and slide down your throat.
His hips stuttered, his hold in your hair tightened and in one swift thrust, he was sheathed in your mouth. His cum began to flood across your tongue, giving you a slightly salty taste as it continued to spill out of his swollen dick. You had to swallow twice before you could finally breathe again, it felt like he was unloading everything he had. When he pulled out, he watched as his cock popped out, a gasp escaped your throat and your face messy from his thrusts. He grinned down, satisfied with how disheveled you were. "Look at you, such a mess."
You lifted your eyes up, swallowing the rest of his spunk and breathing heavily. You were breathless, your jaw ached and your throat felt bruised for sure. He took a step back and took you in, the image of you ingraining in his brain and blood flowed down to his cock. His fingers ran through your hair lightly but quickly tightened again, lifting you to stand.
Your legs felt shaky and unsteady from sitting on your knees for such a prolonged period, and you were still a bit dazed and disoriented from sucking his cock. The discomfort in your legs was matched by a slight buzzing throb in your head, making it difficult to regain your composure. "Ain't no one makes you such a pretty mess like this but me...you won't forget that. I don't give a damn who hears those sweet little noises that come out of your mouth."
He moved you onto the bed again, this time face down, and your belly hit the mattress with a rough huff. Logan's rough hands ran up the back of your bare thighs and over the round of your ass. "Such a sweet peach, princess..." he grabbed the meat of your ass and spread you open, gazing down at your holes.
He leaned in and inhaled your scent, making you squirm and whine his name, he groaned under his breath in response and spit onto your cunt. You could barely register what he was doing before you felt his tongue push inside and he began lapping at you like a starved man. His tongue curled and gathered as much of you as possible, tasting your arousal from the source as his pupils dilate with desire.
You can't help but moan as he ate you out, his hands kneading and groping your ass as he did so, snarling against your core while his tongue effortlessly assaulted and teased your clit. "You taste so damn good, look at you, soaked already..." he sat up and pushed two fingers inside to stretch you out, making you groan loudly from the sudden intrusion. "Logan!"
"Yeah...you like that don't you...feeling my fingers inside you. Haven't fingered you in a minute huh...feels good? You like when I curl 'em don't you...like..." he adjusted his wrist and he curled his fingers against that sweet, delicate spot inside you that makes you cry out in pleasure. "Yeah...that's it," he chuckled with amusement, hearing your pretty little noises. His calloused fingers rubbed mercilessly against that spongey wall and your legs began to tremble. Your fists gripped the sheets and you cried out against them, your pleasured noise muffled by the blankets. "That's what my girl likes..."
"Logan...oh god..." you whined desperately, rocking back into his fingers, chasing that sweet high that was soon to hit you and explode. "I'm gonna cum..." you rasped and did what you could to drive yourself there, the brink was so, so close...but just as he felt your walls slicken a little and tighten around his fingers, he retracted them. Right before you went over the edge, he denied you, making you groan in frustration. "Logan," you cried desperately and with slight frustration, "I was almost there!"
He had that shit-eating grin on his face, loving how desperate you became when you needed to climax. "Not so fast, sweetheart...I am going to fuck you until you can barely take it. And then some." Logan smacked your ass once, sending a sharp sting up your spine. The noise sounded loudly in the room and making you yelp slightly, your face felt hot and you bit your lip. "Maybe I should lay a few of these to ya...for begging so much...you'd like that wouldn't you? You naughty thing," He gave you another spank and you whined at the stinging sensation.
"L-Logan, please...I-I need you..." your voice was so desperate and pitiful, you could feel his hand on the small of your back, holding you still but not applying pressure. He didn't have to, he knew you'd lay perfectly for him, his pretty girl.
"I know...you need me huh? This poor pussy is so needy for me?" he chuckled, "You about broke my fingers with how tight you were. You gonna be that tight around my cock?" he asked, leaning over your body and placing a hot kiss to the side of your neck. The sensation of his lips on such a sensitive spot almost made you cry out. You felt like your body was on fire.
"Please! Please, I need you inside me! Don't tease me anymore...." your voice begged him, you wanted his cock stretching you out so badly...and he seemed to enjoy your desperation enough to give in. His cock head rubbed between your folds, he grinned and shuddered when he felt just how hot your core was.
Normally he'd just shove himself inside you, filling you up in one quick thrust, but not this time. He loved seeing you needy, especially after that bastard at the store had the audacity to touch you. The mere sight of it made his blood boil and his chest tighten with jealousy. He knew deep down that you hadn't done anything on purpose and that it wasn't your fault, but still, the image of it lingered in his mind. It gnawed at him, filling him with an almost unbearable urge to assert himself. He had to prove something to both you and himself. It was as if an uncontrollable fire had ignited within him, his primal instincts demanding him to take action.
He instead slowly began to push inside, his cock stretching your tight hole and you let out a loud whining cry. It wasn't enough; your desire for him was overwhelming, you craved all of him, every part of his being. Yet, he was deliberate in his actions, taking his time and being slow and precise with you, almost as if savoring each moment. His meticulous approach only heightened your instinctive need, making the yearning even more intense.
When he was fully inside, your cries for him grew even louder, your voice filled with a mix of desperation and desire. Your whining and squirming only intensified as you clung to him, feeling the overwhelming sensation of him deep within you. You wanted him to move, to give you the release you craved, but he remained still, demonstrating an incredible amount of self-control.
The way your body writhed against him drove him absolutely crazy; every movement you made sent shivers down his spine. He wanted nothing more than to hold you down, to keep you in place and listen to those beautiful, intoxicating sounds that escaped your lips, savoring every moment of your shared intimacy.
You were utterly intoxicating to him. His hips finally moved, pumping in and out of you with vigor and passion. Logan's firm hold on your plush hips made him groan and growl against your neck, his warm huffs of breath sending shivers down your spine and warming your skin. Each exhale created goosebumps all over the rest of your body, making you respond with pathetic sounds of pleasure. The heat radiating from him was intense, the man ran hot as it was and it felt like his entire body was a heater on high, intensifying the intimate connection between you both.
As his fingers dug slightly into your soft flesh, his deep desire for you became more apparent when he jerked your body closer to him as he continued to pound himself in and out of your tight cunt. "You love this cock don't you princess? Does it feel good...you are so desperate huh?" he whispered in a throaty, guttural voice, his lips grazing your ear as he held you flush against his body.
You felt tears prick your eyes as the intense feeling began to rush through your body, your pussy was so sensitive and he just kept pounding you. "Mhm....nngh yes..." you rasped weakly, "S-so good...so good Logan...y-you're making me bulge down there..." Your eyes widened slightly, seeing the lower part of your abdomen slightly show his dick from when he sunk into your sex.
"Only I get to make you scream and cry like this, hm? Only me. You love when I fuck you like an animal don't you? Do you want that?" he pushed you back into the bed, your arms wrapped around the pillow for any kind of support as you cried and felt him begin to pound into you even harder. The feeling of your slick warming even more from the friction made you scream in delight. It felt so incredible, no man has ever made you feel so fulfilled before...
"M'gonna put a fuckin' baby in you, gonna fill this pretty belly with my cum and watch you swell up. Then no one will touch you. You're claimed, no one will ever come up and touch you again, you're all mine," Logan hissed lowly and angled your hips up slightly, his cock hitting your cervix and teasing it with the promise of his cum.
Your body reacted to his movements by squeezing him, your velvet walls tightened around his dick and tried milking him even more as he thrusted and claimed you as his own. "My good girl...nngh...takin' my cock so good, fuckin' you to tears hm? No one else can get you this way, can they?" he growled against your skin, holding you desperately close as his hips drove into you more and more.
"Logan, I'm gonna cum...please, let me cum," you whined pitifully, tears rolled down your cheeks as you succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure he was providing your body. Every word that came from his mouth went straight to your clit and you were attempting to milk him before he was ready to climax himself.
"So needy... You really want to? You think you deserve it?" he asks in a low, almost mocking tone, chuckling to himself as he watches you with an intense gaze. Your tears stream down your face, and you mewl pathetically, your desperate cries echoing in the room, each sound seemingly fueling his amusement even more.
The scent of your arousal filled his nose and it drove him into you even more, his His hips stuttered, attempting to push faster than before, driven by a desperate need to increase the pace. Logan groaned deeply, the sound resonating through the room, his arms tightly wrapped around your midsection, pulling you closer. His muscular chest tightened with effort, every sinew straining as he used all the power he had to continue pounding you with relentless intensity. His skin, now slick with a light layer of sweat, pressed damply against your back, providing a heated contrast to the cool air. His chest hair was slightly tousled and damp, scratched along the skin of your back as his hips thrusted.
"Logan, I can't hold it any longer...please let me-" you rasped desperately, your entire body trembling and screaming at you to let it all go. Every muscle was tense, fighting against the overwhelming urge, yet you craved his permission more than anything. You needed to hear him say you could, to feel that moment of release granted by his word...
"Alright pretty girl, come for me, let it out, cum all over my cock...let me know how good I make you feel~" Logan urged you on and his hands roamed up your body, grasping your breasts and gently pinching and rolling your nipples in his index and thumb. That was all your body needed to go over the edge.
You felt an intense wave of adrenaline and warmth spread from your core, radiating throughout your entire body. Overwhelmed by the sensation, you cried out Logan's name, your voice a mix of desperation and euphoria. As your head became fuzzy and dazed, the feeling of pure ecstasy washed over you, filling your senses to the brim. You were completely overcome by the powerful emotions, your body trembling with the intensity as his cock mercilessly continued to pound into you.
"Ohh yes...that's it princess...let it out baby...cream on my dick," he groaned in your ear, the sound making you clench harder, if that were possible. His hips finally began to falter and he leaned over you to let gravity help his rutting. "M'gonna fill you up, til y'r dripping with me." Logan's eyebrows were knit tight and he let out a loud groan as his hips finally stopped, pushing hard against you as he reached his peak.
His cock kissed against your swollen cervix and he unloaded his orgasm deep into you, shooting rope after hot rope of cum until you were so full it began to ooze out around him. The sensation of it dripping down his balls made him snarl, he pulled out just enough to see it slowly coming out of your pretty, swollen pussy before he used his cock to swipe it up and push it back in.
"Keep it in there, sweet girl...keep all of me in you. You love it, being so full of my seed it leaks out of you." He reached around and teasingly wrapped his hand around your neck to give a gentle squeeze.
You, in a complete daze, so high on your climax you could barely think. He hadn't fucked you this hard in so long. You babbled lightly, attempting to form coherent words, but you weren't able to construct a complete sentence. He chuckled softly, his warm breath and lips brushing lightly against your temple. "Atta girl...so dizzy," he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Did I make you feel good? Hm?" Logan almost purred against you, his voice low and soothing, as you felt the gentle vibrations of his chest reverberate against your back, adding a comforting aspect to the intimate moment.
"Now, now...you just rest. You did so good for me." He placed a gentle kiss to your temple, pulling you to lay on him and reluctantly pulling himself out of you. "We can clean up later...right now, I want you here." He held your body close, his arms wrapping around you protectively as he adjusted a bit to make you more comfortable.
He felt pride and satisfaction when he smelled you, leaning down to inhale lightly. He no longer sensed that awful stench the stranger had left on you from before. Now, it was just his own scent imbedded in your skin, his claim on your was loud and clear to him and it would be to everyone else too. He continued to hold you, his warmth surrounding you, creating a cocoon of security.
You were far too tired to argue. Every bone in your body felt like it was weighed down by an invisible force, and the idea of cleaning up seemed like an insurmountable task. You would clean up later, but for now, you needed a moment to recover from your high and daze. The room felt like it was spinning slightly, and the only thing grounding you was his presence and firm arms wrapped around your body. You were happy laying with him, despite that smug ass smirk he had on his face when he observed you. His eyes had a glint of amusement, and you didn't know why he seemed so full of himself until you saw yourself in the mirror half an hour later.
When you caught your reflection, you were shocked to find your skin covered in dark bruises, all adorning your neck and shoulders. It was then you understood the reason behind Logan's self-satisfied expression. There was no way you could cover these, and he made sure of that.
"Logan!!"
That bastard.
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spicysourchimken · 5 months
Text
Interesting reunions
Tim and Danny are twins, Danny was given up for adoption by the Drakes when he was a baby and Tim was never told he has a brother.
After a reveal gone bad, Danny, Jazz, Sam and Tucker became thieves after closing the portal. They mainly target supernatural or cursed items. Their target, a necklace, is being held in a museum with their in being a private event to show off the piece before it's sent back to its owner.
The heist would've gone well if Tim hadn't also been in attendance.
------
'Lmao and here I thought you didn't want to be here'
It was a text from Dick.
Not exactly the strangest thing to happen when Tim was forced to attend an event.
He'd been benched after a mission resulted in a minor concussion. He'd personally been planning on going over his paperwork for Wayne Enterprises, but apparently that wasn't 'rest', instead he was sent off to be bored out of his mind at some art function. He didn't have time to prepare notes or even do any real research. But he still had Dick who had apparently been dragged along as his babysitter (And was fortunately interested in the items on display)
They'd been texting throughout the night. Dick fed him enough information to be mildly interested in topics of conversation, and when that failed the strange history of the main display. An old necklace that supposedly was connected to a string of deaths and all around misfortune.
So no, the text wasn't strange, but what was, was the photo attached. It was a picture of a man, grinning and chatting amicably with a woman whom he could barely make out as the collection's curator. His hair was longer than Tim's, tied neatly back to be clear of his glasses and to give clear view of the man's face.
Tim's face.
There was a clone at the event.
'can u get me another pic?'
Tim was now significantly more interested. Tim could identify the room they were in, housing the main display and it was about two rooms over from where he was currently hiding out. He could get there easily enough.
Dick sent him a thumbs up before replying with another, distinctly more uncomfortable photo of the man. He smiled awkwardly and Tim could finally get a better look at his face. Tim's brows scrunched together. A lichtenburg scar stretched up from beneath his collar and trailed along his jaw and in the light the man's eyes almost looked green.
He ran the photo through his facial recognition software, getting at least a few pings on himself before finally landing on Jonas Spencer, private security currently assigned to shadow one Morgan Deveraux. His history was solid, highschool records, even a spotty criminal history (points where he'd almost been arrested for bar fights) before he'd joined up with his firm.
So. not a clone. Probably.
Tim would still need to check it out. He pushed past a dark haired woman and entered the main show room. Dick, luckily had kept him in conversation but Jonas looked flighty, his eyes always drifting back to his charge.
Then he caught sight of Tim.
He froze. Staring at Tim for a moment before he tapped his ear- and what Tim assumed to be a comm. He made a move for Morgan, leaving Dick in the dust.
The lights flickered. Jonas reached for Megan, his hand wrapping around hers. Tim could've sworn his eyes darted upwards. Then there was a complete blackout. There was a clatter as a vent grate fell to the floor, shouts arose from the attendees.
Then the lights flickered back to life.
Jonas and Morgan had vanished, and so did the necklace as well as three other paintings.
Good news, its not a clone. Bad news, he might have a twin brother who is in a gang of thieves.
--
Daniel Fenton, or as his ID currently stated 'Jonas Spencer', wouldn't exactly call himself a thief- personally he was more of a collector. Or a curator, whatever the hell you might call a guy who grabs haunted and or cursed objects and dumps them in an alternate dimension.
And it wasn't exactly like he was normally the one stealing things either! That was mostly Sam, he'd done for a bit when they'd first started up (pushing his hands through the glass and taking a necklace with him, or making a painting completely invisible as he whisked it away) but then Sam started calling it 'cheating' and claimed 'his technique was lacking' and promptly took over his position.
(He didn't exactly mind, using his powers too often made his skin crawl. He may not have the GIW constantly hunting him, but he'd had enough run ins to make him sweat. He also didn't want to think about his parents.)
So maybe their entire deal wasn't completely altruistic. When you've been on the run since seventeen and had decided that you, your best friends and your older sister are going to become international thieves, sometimes you have to steal things so that you can have an income. And sometimes stealing is fun.
Unluckily their current job wasn't recreational. They'd heard word of a haunted necklace, there was a string of bad luck connected to it. Mirrors shattering, injuries popping up only days after interacting with the piece, lights falling out from the ceiling. There'd also been a case of near death.
Very clearly the latest display piece was cursed meaning they needed to grab it before it was shipped back into it private collection in France. That meant a time crunch, meaning they wouldn't be fully prepared. It was fine- they'd stolen the dagger of Amon Ra when they had half a day to plan, so three should've been fine.
He and Jazz manned the floor, Jazz kept to grifting while Danny worked as support if things went sideways on any front. Jazz, currently wealthy socialite 'Morgan Devereaux', draped an arm around a politician as he guided her through the collection. Jazz shot him a glance telling him to stay back, keep monitoring the main floor with the necklace.
That was fine. He could do that. He approached the curator and complimented the piece, letting her tell him about the struggles she had getting it overseas let alone her conversations with the owner. Ok, so definitely cursed.
Danny felt eyes on his back, and from the corner of his eye he saw someone take a photo. Tall, dark hair and a bright smile.
Sam pointed out that it was a Wayne.
At that point Danny made an attempt to leave, if he was going to get into a fight we wasn't going to do it there. He'd be too close to the necklace for Sam to get in and grab it without attention being drawn to her too. But Grayson cornered him impressively fast. He asked Danny for a photo, claiming that he looked just like his brother. Danny relented.
Then Tucker chimed in that someone had ran his face. Fuck. Dick kept him in conversation but Danny was eyeing their escape roots. Sam warned that another was coming through the left entrance and that she'd already lifted his phone. Danny turned, preparing himself for confrontation.
Then Danny saw him, his doppelganger.
Grayson hadn't been lying. That thought was terrifying.
Danny sent two taps into his earpiece and made his way towards Jazz. They couldn't risk staying any longer. Danny didn't know if they'd been made or not but he wasn't taking chances. He nodded to Sam who went for the jewels as Tucker cut the lights. Jazz and Danny took a painting each.
Sam went for the vents and Danny and Jazz disappeared through the front door.
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hitomisuzuya · 5 months
Text
Yandere!Kunikuzushi (Scaramouche) x fem!reader. Smut. Breeding kink. Aphrodisiac. Creampie. Finger sucking. One mention of killing. Scaramouche peeks through occasionally.
Yandere Kunikuzushi won the poll. I hope this measures up to the first part. Kuni cumming inside for the first time.
As much as Kunikuzushi enjoyed devouring your pussy to his heart's content, he was starting to crave more. There was something so intensely arousing about cumming inside of you. He knew very well that it ran the risk of pregnancy, but your hips just looked so fucking perfect. Perfect for breeding.
He didn't want just that though. Oh no, he wanted so much more. He knew you would agree without hesitation to let him cum inside of you, you were starting to crave him as much as he craved you.
Kunikuzushi wanted you to look him right in his eyes, your eyes glassy with lust and desperation for him and tell him you wanted him to cum inside. He'd read about aphrodisiacs. He deduced that this would be the best method to get you say that without him asking first.
His cock throbbed thinking about folding your body into a mating press, being caged in by him and doing nothing but moan and cry for him while he pumped his cock inside of you, his cum seeping and coating it more with every thrust.
Kunikuzushi put his plan into action once he obtained the aphrodisiac capsule from a small pharmacy. You were distracted with a book when he broke open the capsule in the drink he got for you from the kitchen.
Now all he had to do is sit and wait, anticipating when the symptoms of the aphrodisiac setting in started to show.
He counted every second until he saw you shift restlessly on your bed. It looked like you were having a hard time concentrating. "Is something wrong?" He asked innocently as you closed your book and set it aside.
Your cheeks were flushed, and your breathing was sort of labored. You looked at him and said, "I feel really warm, and my body aches," You said, moving closer to him on the bed.
"Oh? Do you want me to go and get a doctor?" He asked, putting a hand on your forehead.
You shook your head. "No, I don't. Did you know that I have always thought your fingers are beautiful?" You said, glancing longingly at his fingers.
Kunikuzushi smirked. You were already so far gone. There was only one thing on your mind now. And that was him. He could see it in your eyes. "Oh?" He said, brushing his fingers on your lips. "You look like you have something rattling around in that pretty head of yours."
"Mhm," You said, the tip of your tongue flicked out against his fingers, sending a shiver through him. "I want to suck on your fingers, and then," You stroked his wrist, "I want you to cum inside of me."
Kunikuzushi felt such a rush course through him. You were just so fucking addicting. You would never say that to the blacksmith who he overheard telling his friend about wanting to ask you out. And then in the next breath said very vulgar and distasteful things about you.
That man was by now weighed down by rocks and dismembered, serving as fish food. Never to be found. He bled out so fast, but a pound of flesh was the only payment he would accept for insulting your honor in such a disgusting manner.
Kunikuzushi pushed his fingers into your mouth, savoring the happy moan that you muffled on his fingers. He pumped them in and out of your mouth, his fingers exploring as you sucked.
You gagged as he pushed his fingers into your throat. He was fast getting swept up in the dominant power he held over you. He could've made you choke over and over on his fingers and you would've gladly kept sucking once you recovered.
Your tongue lapped and curled, worshipping on his fingers. When he couldn't ignore the throbbing in his cock any longer, he took his fingers out of your mouth. Capturing your lips in a heated, open mouth kiss, his hands hastily removed your clothes.
Kunikuzushi indulged in every fantasy he'd jacked himself off having about you. This would be the first time his cock was ever inside of you. It felt so good to just let go and further corrupt you. He needed to build you up to a certain point by making you cream over and over again on his tongue first.
You felt such comfort under the sheer weight of his dominance as he bit and sucked bruises that would rapidly darken on your skin. Everyone would know you belonged to him. They needed to know. That way they wouldn't dare to fathom taking you away from him.
Your pussy felt so wet on his cock, your body folding so fragile and pliant underneath him as he bent you into the mating press he'd read so much about. He could tell your body struggled to tremble in pleasure as he pinned you down, caging you underneath him.
His hands tightened possessively on your wrists, holding them down on the bed, and using them as leverage to grind his aching cock between the drooling folds of your cunt.
"Say it again," He groaned, teasing the head of his cock against your clit. "Tell me you want me to cum inside again," Your pussy clenched around the tip of his cock, your hips jerking up to urge it against your entrance.
"Yes, Kuni, please! Cum inside of me!" You pleaded, struggling to grind against his cock. Need for him gripped your body, amplified by the aphrodisiac. You mewled, the sensation of his cock teasing against your clit sent made your body ache, and tremble more.
Kunikuzushi wouldn't dream of denying you. Especially not when he had dreamt of this moment so many times. With a husky groan, he pushed his cock inside of you.
"So wet," He moaned, his cheeks flushing from how lewd his cock sounded as your pussy swallowed it. "So tight. Clenching like a perfect slut on my cock," He pulled out just to bottom out again, his cock throbbing as your walls squeezed around it.
Kunikuzushi enjoyed watching you struggle to buck your hips up as his kissed his cock into your sweet spot. He felt your body melting under his with every thrust of his cock, surrendering yourself to him completely.
You looked so cock drunk, drool pooling from the corner of your mouth as you moaned shamelessly. Shamelessly for him. It sent him reeling that you made someone like him capable of feeling such filthy human emotions.
The closer he got to cumming, the more he started to whimper with raw need. It sounded so disorienting to him that he had to kiss you, forcing his tongue into your mouth to muffle them.
The way your fingers intertwined with his, squeezing like you were clinging to him was pure bliss to him. The mewl of pleasure when he emptied his cock inside of you, unable to stop thrusting down into you was utterly addicting.
He wondered if you could even hear yourself babbling about you were his and only his fucked so dumb on his cock.
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meidiary · 1 year
Text
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( 📁 ) THEM ACTING OVERLY JEALOUS
synopsis: the monster trio and how they act when they're way too jealous for their own good...
characters: luffy, sanji & zoro!
warnings: a teeny tinyyy amount of swearing [:
a/n: first time writing for them so i'm pretty nervous!!! , hope you enjoy!! banner is made by me, inspired by the lovely @sixosix and the layout is inspired by the lovely @luckyscribbles <3
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it was his fault! it really was.. he was the sole reason you were entertaining this way too confident guy- because he told you that he was out of your league! can you believe that?! and now ZORO is throwing daggers at the poor man just with his piercing gaze alone..
ignoring zoro's needy angry glares he's sending you two, you continue charming your ... acquauntance, growing his already far too stretched ego. "oh darling, how i could melt in those beautiful emerald colored eyes of yours~" and with that sanji cringe-worthy comment you got him babbling on about himself... again.
you're getting progressively more annoyed the longer you hear him try to flirt with you. nonetheless you don't move an inch, because you know he's watching your every move; waiting for you to come moping to him about the guy. he'd feel a sense pride because you came back to him. and that pride, the face he makes whenever he turns out to be right about something, albeit it's a very handsome one, is the last thing you want to witness right now.
so you keep yourself from throwing this guy's drink in his face and telling him his cologne is absolutely murdering your sense of smelling.
you look up as you suddenly stop hearing the random guy talk about some castle garden of his. he gulps hesistantly whilst zoro stands before you, hands in his pockets. "we're leaving." no you're not! "oh zoro~ i barely-" "now." you stand up and turn to leave, but quickly turn back around and give the stranger a kiss on his cheek before leaving with zoro, causing his cheeks to change to a red-shade.
"miss! will i ever see you again?!" he asks before backing up seeing zoro's death glare. "my love, if we are meant to be we will definitely meet again!" what's up with you and these shakespear lines?
zoro gives you a slight shove with his shoulder as he rolld his eyes for what seems like the millionth time this hour. "i think i found my soulmate zoro!" you sang while you interlocked you arm with his. you were met with yet another eye-roll.
"you were the one that said he's out of my league, remember?" zoro huffs annoyed. "shit- that was a joke damn it!" "if anything you're out of his fucking league, dumbass" you lean onto him as you two continue making your way back to the going merry.
"maybe i exaggerated a bit too.." you slowly admit before hearing his usual chuckle. "just don't go flirting with some stranger again, ever. shit could've gone wrong real fast y'know?" you smile sheepishly and nod. "good thing you were there huh?"
and you could've sworn you say his cheeks turn into a rose color before he swiftly turned his head to the side, greeting sanji and nami. was he blushing..?
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SANJI was this close.. this close to absolutely losing it and slicing this daring man up with zoro's swords. who does he think he is? flirtingly, charmingly speaking with his lover?! well truth be told.. you two weren't official, far from it actually;
you two were so close to finally having the months-due talk about the classic, what are we-question. but of course sanji had to hit on the waitress that casually passed your table. that was your final straw. if he couldn't stop his antics for one night, you would resume yours for good.
and oh how it made him clench his fists so hard they became white, how it made him ignore all the beautiful ladies surrounding him, for what felt like the first time ever, how he saw you with your pretty dress on, that he bought for you because it reminded him of you, sat on some navy's lap, entertaining the bastard not worhty of a single enchanting smile of yours. yet there you were smiling, no laughing at something the navy said, all while you were supposed to be with sanji. laughing at something he said, playing with his hair, sat on his lap.
he was this close to exploding and increasing his bounty a good amount by punching this navy untill his fists fell off. "sanji, don't you fucking dare." nami warned him, glaring at him from the other side of the table, not in the mood to be on the run again after finally being able to relax for a day.
sanji heard nami, he did! but the minute he saw the disgusting navy's hand run up your thigh causing you to jump off of him, he finally lost it. "keep your fucking hands off her you sewer rat!" he jumped up sprinting at the navy, his snow-white fists ready to release all the pent up anger he held.
but before sanji got to the navy he was stopped by you. your soft, slightly cold hands holding back one of his clenched fists. causing him to slowly unclench it. you tried to push sanji back, knowing his uproar would bring about another navy chasing. "you alright, love?" it's as if all his previous anger vanished the moment he felt your soft touch, smelled you sweet perfume, the moment you felt like his again. "y-yeah i'm good.. but we should get goi-"
"WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?!" the navy man roared causing the others to swiftly join the yelling. "hey aren't those those strawhat pirates with a bounty?!" from the other side of the room it felt like you could hear nami's long sigh. "see what you've done?! grab zoro, usopp and i will take luffy!" everyone complied and assumed their role.
sanji lifted his leg up ready to kick zoro awake right before you pushed him slightly making him stand on two feet again. "not doing that sanji!" he playfully rolls his eyes at your statement.
waking up zoro and running to the ship in a hurry, with a good 3 dozen navy soldiers running behind you calling you names, was the usual. but what surprised you was sanji holding your hand tightly the whole way, not letting go for a second.
once on the ship, back to sailing on the waters, while everyone was catching their breath, sanji took you aside, he interlocked your hands with his while he locked your gazes, still breathless he looks at you earnestly. his eyes illuminating the moon's glow. "i'll stop the flirting my darling, i promise. the only woman i'll charm will be you.. so you better not grow tired of it." he chuckled still a little breathless. you smiled, leaning your body onto his. "you better sanji.."
"i'm all yours sweetheart. all yours"
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LUFFY felt weird. he had never met this man before, yet he suddenly has the urge to gum gum bazooka him for the rest of the day. why is he feeling this way right now? is it because he hadn't eaten yet? no that can't be it.. he just had a very good meal with you; you two had split up from the rest of the crew to have your lunch at some fancy looking restaurant on the beach.
luffy furrows his eyebrows once again because of this feeling. he figures, after a while to be completely honest, that the reason he wants to kick this man off the island is that he's taking way too long speaking with you. he's been occupying you for a good 10 minutes now.
how could he? how did he dare to take you from him so carelessly? you two were enjoying your meals, yes you were chatting about the dumbest subjects known to the world, but you were enjoying it. and then some buff man comes and dares to ask you for directions?! it would've been fine if he had left after receiving them, but no, he had to keep talking to you!
luffy was starting to see red at this point. he gets it he does, you're a beautiful woman, you're smart yet very funny, energetic and enjoyable! but you're his. even though you don't know that, even though he never told you that, you are his. and no buff, tall, slick back haired guy was going to change that one bit.
luffy dropped his food and started to walk towards the two of you, angrily eyeing the bold man who was about to get bazooka-d to some far-away island. luffy started stretching his arms, getting ready to send him off.
you notice right away and block luffy's path to the man. trying to laugh it off, you said your goodbyes to the fella and dragged luffy back to the restaurant. "what were you thinking, luff! that could've ended up horribly!" you whisper-yelled, not wanting to attract any more unwanted gazes.
"he took you from me for 10 minutes! how was I supposed to endure any longer!" luffy childishly pouts as he resumes eating. "you could've just said so! no need to bazooka anyone anywhere luf'!" his furrowed eyebrows soften as he hears his nickname.
the first time you called him that he truly hated it. "it sounds like a dog's name!" he complained. but over time, that nickname became apart of him, it was apart of his daily routine; he'd wake up to it, adventure the world with it, buy groceries with it, hear scolds with it. he became one with that silly nickname you gave him, and he wouldn't give that three-letter name up for the world. he wouldn't be able to go a day anymore without hearing you talking about how "the seashells here are so pretty luf'!", or how "i just love it when it's only you and i, luf'," and let's not forget you waking him up with the usual "luf'! sanji finished breakfast, get up already!".
"you can't go off with weird men. i won't let you.. you shouldn't leave my side for some guy that doesn't even know where he's headed!" you chuckle at his remarks. "i wouldn't leave you for anyone luf'! just.. don't bazooka someone next time.. just talk to me."
"you're mine y'know.." luffy tells you while he's munching on some of his cold meat. your eyes widen at his sudden words. "w-what?" "i said you're mine!" he says louder, a little annoyed thinking you hadn't heard him the first time. "you never said that before.."
"never needed to," he takes another bite. "but you are, so don't forget that!" he furrows his eyebrows again while saying that earning a chuckle from you. "i won't.. don't you worry"
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NOTE: and that's for my first one piece ficcccc!!!
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lost-and-ephemeral · 7 months
Note
Could you please do LDS boys +
Caleb reacting to reader being injured/severely injured?<3
HCs: You're Injured (ft. main trio + Caleb)
Pairing: Xavier x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader, Caleb x reader (seperate)
Tags: hurt/comfort, reader is injured but won't die
A/N: Thanks for your request! First time writing for Caleb, yay. Sorry if it isn't good enough, I'm not feeling so good since morning.
-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´- 
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Caleb
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"Hold on, pip-squeak, I'm right here."
Your exhausted body, covered in wounds from the battle with Wanderer, was ready to collapse to the ground if Caleb hadn't caught you in time.
He knew how dangerous your job was, but that didn't make him any less worried.
You protected him but got hurt in the process.
He's frustrated and angry because there's no way he could've protected you in that situation.
And Caleb just hates this feeling, but trying to stay calm for your sake. His emotions could only make everything worse.
"Sometimes even big girls need someone else's help. Right? And I'm here for you."
Concern was written all over his face, he couldn't hide it even if he really tried. The last thing he wanted was to see you hurt, especially like this.
He was supposed to be your main protector back then. But now things have changed.
You had really grown a lot, not just physically, but mentally too.
It was just hard to accept you're no longer a little girl.
Yes, you are strong and mature. But Caleb kept holding you like you were the most fragile being in the world.
He will give you first aid as quickly as he can, while calling an ambulance. Caleb is not the kind of person who would risk your life trying to handle this situation on his own.
Definitely going to the hospital with you while holding your hand and talking to you. He'll be around as long as it takes.
Probably will fall asleep on the chair near your hospital bed.
No doubt he'll continue to look after you like he did when you both were younger.
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Rafayel
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"No, no, no. Don't even think about leaving me like this!"
Maybe sometimes Rafayel was overly dramatic, but he's actually afraid of losing you again.
When he saw that you were injured after not-so-pleasant encounter with Wanderers, his facade of self-confidence instantly cracked.
Rafayel started panicking and it was clear from the look on his face as he crouched beside you, seeing how you trying to cover the wound by your bloody hands.
Not again. No.
All these years he had to watch you die over and over again, losing all memories of him.
Rafayel instantly began to examine your wounds, holding you close. He didn't care if his perfectly white shirt will be covered in blood as well.
He needed to be sure you won't die this time.
And his playful attitude is gone completely.
"Don't you dare to die on me, you hear? I won't forgive you. Ever. Promise me. Promise me you won't die."
He tried to remain calm and ignore the suffocating feeling of anxiety that has been slowly rising in his chest. But he couldn't.
Will do everything to stop the bleeding while help is on it's way. You can feel his hands trembling.
He'd better die for you himself, not vice versa.
I swear, this man is gonna get the whole hospital on alert. Nurses and doctors can be mad at him as much as they want. It doesn't matter to him.
Rafayel won't rest and eat properly until you get better. He just physically can't.
"Don't scare me like this ever again, please."
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Xavier
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"I failed you."
You accidentaly got injured during your mission. And poor Xavier decided it was totally his fault.
You both found yourself surrounded by enemies and before he could even react, one of them attacked you, leaving a deep wound on your side.
Needless to say, in the next couple of seconds all Wanderers were completely destroyed, and Xavier was fully focused on you.
This isn't the first time you've been injured during a mission. But each time Xavier is as worried as always.
Especially when your injuries are so severe.
Will administer first aid on the spot, even the bare minimum, before carrying you to safety.
With Wanderers around, it's not going to be easy to get you out of this dangerous zone. So Xavier needs to stabilize you a little at first.
"I won't let you get hurt again. I promise."
He is already experienced in these situations, so he's able to keep his emotions under control. But that doesn't mean that deep inside he isn't worried sick about you.
Will be looking for anything to treat your wound and avoid infection.
Guilt will slowly eat him up from the inside no matter what. He had to protect you, but he failed to do so.
Even if you assure him it's just an accident, Xavier just shakes his head in response.
As soon as you can get out, he'll take you to the hospital. It is unlikely that his skills will be enough to make your wound heal properly.
Better safe than sorry.
He still has a lot of work to do, but he'll come to you whenever he has a spare minute.
Will probably act like a guilty puppy for a long time.
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Zayne
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"You're constantly putting yourself in danger."
Zayne has a hard time showing his feelings openly, especially when it comes to you, so it's no surprise that his display of concern felt like he was scolding you.
But in reality he's really, really worried about you every time.
He knew right away that you were in the hospital after another accident.
And as soon as Zayne had some time off between surgeries, he came to you.
Looking at you in the hospital bed, he felt his heart ache.
While he was desperately searching for a cure for your heart, you kept getting hurt again and again.
Even when you smiled, like if trying to reassure him everything's fine, Zayne only sighed and shook his head. You have no idea how hard it was to see you hurt and vulnerable like this.
He's already been informed of the severity of your wounds and how much blood you've lost.
And he could've lost you.
But Zayne can't let his emotions take over. There are still a few more difficult surgeries ahead where he cannot afford to make a mistake.
And if he starts panicking right in front of you, it's not going to speed up the healing process.
"I'd be happy if you took a more responsible approach to your health. Then I wouldn't have to be so worried."
He moved his chair closer to your bed and sat in silence for a while, squeezing your hand.
Zayne will stay around as long as his job lets him.
Don't be surprised to find candies or plushies you wanted on your nightstand.
You can ask him about these little gifts.
And watch carefully as a faint smile appears on his lips.
"Usually only children get so excited about toys. So it turns out you're not that far from being a child?"
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bizbat · 2 months
Note
hiii
so i had a thought of like, jason with a gf who has trouble getting wet no matter how turned on she is, and she’s embarrassed so she kinda puts off them having sex for a while.
and he’s so confused and just thinking that she doesn’t like him enough or something until one day he finally says something and she gives in and tells him
and he’s just sitting there like “…. you mean all we had to do was buy lube?”
and then wonderful (smutty.) things ensue
please and thank you, mwah 😘
Not A Problem . . .
🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️
🐼JJK Masterlist🐼
~ Jason Todd x Fem!AFAB!Reader
~ Explicit Smut
~ Reader is not described.
~ Wc:1.039k
~ You can find more of my works here.
C/W: Smut, PiV penetration, Oral (female receiving), Fingering, Pet names (Angel, Baby, Pretty), Mdom, FSub, Healthy Dom/Sub dynamics (communication, explicit consent), Use of the terms "cunt", "pussy", "tits", "ass", "cock", "asshole", Non-penetrative sex, Multiple orgasms, Overstim, Teasing, Hair pulling, Crying, Dacryphilia
It really, really isn't.
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Looking back now, you can't believe you were ever worried about it.
You vividly remember pushing off advancing your relationship with Jason in that way, terrified of what he might say, how he might react. You remember having to hype yourself up to tell him, getting all serious, sitting him down one day after "work", you'd even spent the day thinking up clever segways into the conversation.
The topic, of course, being that no matter how hard you try, you cannot get wet.
No matter how much foreplay, no matter how much you touch yourself, you can't bring your body to secrete those famous, ever-important juices. And it's been really hard. In past relationships, you've either been forced to deal with the discomfort, or deny sex all together. But not with Jason.
You wanted to do everything with him, kiss him, love him, fuck him, everything. Which is why you got all serious with him to begin with. You remember telling him you had something you wanted to talk about, sitting beside him on the couch, and holding his hands in yours as you took a deep breath, and began explaining your problem. He was very sincere as he listened to you, his eyes never leaving your nervous face as he patiently let you explain the issue that had been plaguing your previous relationships. He took the whole thing very seriously.
Or at least, he did, until you had stopped speaking. Once the heavy silence overtook the room, he could no longer hold back the small smile that spread across his face, nor the tiny chuckle that escaped his lips. He quickly slapped his hand over his mouth to try to hide it before you could catch it, but the look of betrayal had already been plastered clean across your face. He cracks up as he reaches out to grab at your fleeting figure.
Honestly though, you're not sure why you ever so worried to begin with. Jason's head stuffed between your thighs is enough evidence to convince you he was never gonna judge you. The spit dripping down your thighs in thick rivers is all the reassurance you could've needed. His tongue furiously stroking your clit as his fingers pump in and out of your sweet cunt prove his dedication to pleasing you, no matter what little obstacles present themselves in your relationship.
He groans into your pussy, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure up your core, tingling up your back as you arch up from the plush carpet on the floor, which you're sure you'll have to replace. Your hands harshly tug at his dark locks, which, only makes him moan louder. Your legs strain from where they're laid over his shoulders, your hips tiredly thrusting against his soaking wet face.
Your eyes are far too blurry for you to see the lovestruck look on his face. At this point, what feels hours into eating you out like a man starved, he's just as out of it as you are, borderline losing brain function from the lack of oxygen. He's gone he barely even notices his cock painfully straining against his pants, or the ache forming in his knees and thighs from kneeling over you.
At some point, you have to push him away, your clit too sensitive to take any more abuse from his fingers, lips, and tongue. Your chest heaves up and down as you try your best to pull yourself away from his hungry mouth, your legs too tired to do anything to offer any kind of real service. Jason can only laugh at your desperate attempts, a combination of spit and slick coating your thighs and ass, making your skin glint and glisten so beautifully under the soft, warm light of your apartment.
He follows your pussy with his mouth as you squirm away. Your weak body only manages to pull you a few inches from where you originally started, only laying on your tummy now, instead of your back. He lets out a laugh, it's tired and raspy and like music to your ears, as he leans down and grips both of your ass cheeks, pulling them apart so he can spit a fat glob of saliva onto your tight asshole. He watches in an almost manic delight as it slowly spills down onto your drenched pussy, puffy from his tireless mouth. "Ah ah ah pretty," He coos at you gently, his hands gripping onto your hips to stop you from pulling away any more. "Gotta make sure you're nice an' wet, yeah?"
He's really gotta be out of it, to not see the buckets of secretion spilling down your thighs, and dripping from your cunt like a faucet. Regardless, he's still not satisfied, watching in amusement as your ass shakes when he delivers a wet slap. You can't tell if it was a harsh slap, or if your body is just too sensitive from his touch at this point, but you still gasp either way, fresh tears spilling from your eyes and dripping down your flushed cheeks.
"Don't we baby? Answer me." He groans biting his lip at the sight of your tears. You can't even remember the question, you think you say yes, but your brain isn't sending the proper signals to your mouth at the moment, so for all you know, you just let out incoherent babble. Either way, Jason seems to be pleased, murmuring out some sort of praise as he goes back to burying his head in-between your thighs.
His hands tug and squeeze at your ass, the fat filling his hands so deliciously, as he sucks and slurps at your cunt like it was his favorite meal on the planet. And truly, it might just be. He couldn't be more thankful that you told him you had a hard time getting wet, because now it gave him the excuse to eat you out for as long as physically possible.
And fuck, you'll let him. You almost feel stupid for worrying about it in the first place. Your fears that he wouldn't want to have sex with you after finding out, feel like a joke now. Clearly, to him, it's not a problem. It really, really isn't.
692 notes · View notes
kira-fluff · 8 months
Note
I saw the “Sleeping with no pants on” headcanon and was wondering if you could do a pretty setter squad containing Atsumu, Kageyama and Akaashi please- ☁️
sleeping with no pants on | fem!reader x haikyuu!! [pt. 5]
a/n: i was not expecting everyone to be so obsessed with this prompt but I am LIVING for it. I love you guys so much 🩷 p.s. my lovely, atsumu is actually in pt. 1, but I'm going to switch for twinnie osamu, okay? 💕 also I'm so sorry i was gone for so long. busy busy busy working 3 jobs with college. forgive me if I'm a bit rusty. tw: sorta spicy idk
pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4
osamu miya "hey, 'samu, 'samu." "hm." he replied in a grunt. "'m tired." the two of you had stayed up the entire night trying out new recipes that osamu had thought of when he was supposed to be paying attention in class. so, now here you were at midnight, sprawled out on the couch, exhausted. "'n go 't sleep." "don' wanna drive home." "'n stay." you murmured an acknowledgement, then began slipping off your pants. osamu immediately sobered from his tiredness. "wait, the hell are ya doin'?!" "'m goin' to bed, obviously." "ya can't just take yer pants off with a man in the house!" you let out a little scoff, "oh, get over it." but osamu's mind was already racing. he tried to act cool on the outside, but you were just in your fucking panties and acting like it was no big deal? why were you always so clueless around him??? did you really not see him as romantic material??? osamu couldn't help but stare at the round shape of your ass even as your long shirt covered you. he had scarcely time to begin devouring the sight of your legs when you cleared your throat. "are you.....staring... at me?" he cleared his throat and looked away. "...s-sorry.." you leaned in close, just below his ear. "ya know... if you really wanted it that badly, you could've said something.." you smirked, taking a blanket and covering up your lower half with a conceited smirk, walking away. "h-hey wait! the fuck did ya mean by that?!" he trailed behind eagerly. the rest of the night? well... "just friends" was no longer in either of your vocabulary anymore.
kageyama tobio you friends, after all, nothing more. and you didn't want to make it weird. weirder than it already felt having hidden feelings for your best friend. it getting late after a particularly long study session which involved you trying to drill basic math facts into a brain that only understood volleyball. it was a hopeless endeavor, but you took him getting anything above a "50" as a win. so, you continued to attempt to help him improve his grades. you supposed "attempt" wasn't necessarily the right word, as his scores were generally improving, but sometimes you found yourself wondering if there was really a point to it all after you spent the whole lesson trying to help him relearn everything he misunderstood in the lesson from that day. so here you were, exhausted, with your head down on your table at home, tobio sitting across from you. "hey, kageyama, let's just call it a night." he paused for a moment, then spoke. "....do you want to sleep with me?" if you had any liquid in your mouth, you're certain you would've had a comical spit take. "ah, um, WHAT?" you sputtered, trying to make sense out of what he said. he didn't mean it that way, did he? no, of course not. "it's... late." yep. just offering a place to stay. "it is. but there are still trains. i can take a late one." "just get in my bed." your eyebrows raised. "hey, tobio, a normal person would misunderstand what you just said..." he ignored you. "just sleep with me." your face took on a reddish hue the more times he said it... and he just didn't get it? why was he messing with your heart like this!?!? "um... there are different ways to say that. like... 'want to spend the night?'" "then, spend the night." "why are you being so pushy?" "because i like you." as a friend. yeah. we've been over this. "ok, ok, you've convinced me with the power of friendship. but I'm sleeping on the couch." "no." "yes." "no. my bed has enough room." "not for me!!" you laughed nervously. does this guy even have hormones? like, what the fuck? "....I'm going to go shower. I'll see you in my bedroom." does this guy not understand the meaning of no? still, you found yourself begrudgingly trudging over to his bed, especially after you saw his couch was made with the comfort of a burlap sack. I mean, if he offered, might as well take advantage right? what could go wrong? spoiler: everything goes wrong. you thought he was fast asleep. so, in the stealth of 1000 ninjas, you slid off your sweatpants for the sake of comfort. it wasn't weird, right? oh well. you were tired and damn did he like his room hot. you jumped when you felt him arms wrap around you. then, he stiffened. "...are you not wearing any pants?" "um... maybe..." he sighed. "are you trying to seduce me?" "n-no it's just more comfortable!" he turned you around so you were facing him. "well, whatever you're trying to do, it's working. I don't think I'm going to be able to sleep." "wait, is it because I'm making you uncomfortable?" he went silent for a moment. ".... you could say that." "I'll... just put them back on then. sorry. it's just that your room is really hot and-" "can I kiss you?" you blinked in disbelief. "can you what?" "kiss you" he answered without a beat. you spluttered some more as he slowly leaned it, asking for permission, silently this time. you nodded and closed your eyes. sparks flew as his lips moved against your own and you finally understood what he'd meant when he said "I like you". kageyama tobio was head over heels in love with you, and you hadn't a clue. until now. the two of you broke apart. "...can we... do that again?" he asked brazenly. you leaned forward again in reply.
akaashi keiji akaashi would rather die than confess to you the things he woke up at night fantasizing about. you'd likely be especially mortified if you discovered that one of your most embarrassing mishaps was on a frequent replay in akaashi's brain when he fell asleep. he was supposed to be a gentleman, not some gross pervert that looked at one of his best friends like... that. but since it was all in his dreams, it was impossible to "turn off" no matter how many times he tried to think about something else before he went to sleep. and so, let's recall The Incident shall we? he had come to your house late at night and knocked at the door, fully expecting to see you up and awake as it was the early evening. to his surprise, however, you answered the door groggily, eyes still bleary from exhaustion and sleep. the way you looked would be forever ingrained in his mind. you were blinking back the remnants of sleep, wearing one of his shirts. it hung low on you, but not low enough to cover your supple legs and the white panties that peeked out below the hem line of his shirt. you hadn't noticed yet, either. "... what d' ya need...?" you asked tiredly, rubbing your eye. akaashi swallowed harshly, his brain turned into complete mush. "uhh.. uhh...." goddamnit, MOVE YOUR EYES BACK UP TO HER FACE. were her legs always that long? STOP. when he still hadn't answered, you followed his gaze down to your lower half. he still remembers the succession of events as follows: you blushed, stammered, and then slammed the door in his face. you didn't talk to him for a week. after, you finally awkwardly explained that you sleep without your pants on and that you didn't realize you hadn't put anything on when you answered the door because you were so tired. it sucked that you ignored him. and even that you explained yourself. because all it did was bring those... memories... right back to the forefront of his mind. whenever he saw you in the hall and you'd flush and look away, he was immediately brought back to the sight of your bare legs. when you stumbled through your explanation, his mind reeled back to those white panties. and he hated it. what kind of friend looks at their friend that way? but he knew in his heart that what he was feeling for you was beyond sexual attraction when, in his dreams, you smiled at him. and told him you loved him. and so, what if he dreamt a little longer? hopefully you'd forgive him. and maybe someday he could tell you how you made him feel...
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meowmeowriley · 24 days
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Unhinged and unnecessary HC to rationalize the punk Ghost skin incoming!
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It's not Ghost. Ta da! Listen. Listen. I understand. Ghost, being someone devoted to the crown, wouldn't wear the anarchy symbol. And if given the comic backstory (as I always will) Ghost most likely would hate punk music because of his father.
So why punk Ghost? It's not Ghost. It's his son. His and Johnny's. Maybe he's blood, maybe not. Doesn't really matter. They raised the boy. He's theirs. And he resents the crown and the military for how it broke his fathers. Maybe he lost them both, either together or at different times. Maybe they died in the field, or in the hospital due to complications from an injury they got on the job. Maybe they didn't even die, they were injured and dismissed and tossed aside like trash. Whatever the reason, he's angry.
So he joins up with some men who stand for everything his fathers didn't. Fuck their militaristic peace bullshit. It starts small, protests and parties mostly. But then as he finds himself getting closer with the others, he's asked to take part in some extracurriculars. Raids on police and military caravans. Harmless, he tells himself. Good even, they're preventing those in power from enforcing their tyranny, he rationalizes. Things get more radical the longer he's in. Things escalate. He's in too deep. They're a resistance group. They fight back. He looks back on the combat training his fathers pushed on him at a young age more fondly now, as it served him and his purposes well.
He doesn't see how he's exactly like his fathers, won't let himself. But he is. Just a man who follows orders and fights tooth and nail. But he does love his fathers. He misses them. He takes up Simon's mask and Johnny's hairstyle, incorporates them into his look. Makes them his own. An attempt to honor them, despite their different stances on how to do good.
A mission, he's stopped hating when they're referred to as missions a while ago, has himself and his team breaking into a military research facility to investigate and destroy what they found. A new weapon to hurt innocent people, he was sure. Except it wasn't, exactly.
Teleportation? Couldn't be real. He read the files with an air of disbelief. He was distracted, rookie mistake, a scientist gave him a shove, he fell into the teleporter. The man shouted something about finally having a human test subject and slapped his hand down on a button. A flash of blinding light enveloped him, and suddenly he found himself in a hallway. Disoriented, he walked about, trying to figure out where he was.
A man in a bucket hat rounded the corner ahead of him and stopped, looking him up and down with an exasperated sigh. "Ghost what the fuck are you wearing this time?" Ghost. His dad's callsign. This man thought he was his dad. What would his dad do in this situation.
He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. That should do it. Thankfully his sleeves were down covering his tattoos. They were different from Simon's and could've given him away.
"Whatever. Come on then." The man kept walking and he did his best to imitate Simon's walk. His mind raced, an obvious military man thought he was his own dad was worrisome, as the old man was gone, and he needed to get away without arousing suspicion. He'd have to play along then.
That plan went tits up the second he followed the bucket hat man into a room and found himself face to face with his fathers. His fathers who were able bodied and young, same age as himself.
The teleporter hadn't just sent him somewhere else, but had sent him back in time as well.
Johnny roughly ripped off his mask and slammed him against the wall. "Who the FUCK are you?!" Simon menacingly slid a knife out of his sleeve and deftly twirled it around his fingers. Right. They weren't his dads yet, just the crowns attack dogs.
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justwinginglife · 2 months
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I've been deepdiving the hoshina tag and you are definitely one of my favourites to read from with the way you portray him 😭😭😭 so I'm wondering how it'd be with him and a reader that's always portrayed as the elegant and forward type... (kind of like shinobu kocho? if you're familiar with her) and on a rough mission he finds her like... heavily injured and he's thinking that it's the first time he's seen her so different from how she usually acts
this is my first time requesting ever.... so if there's some kind or etiquette I'm missing please don't hesitate to tell...........
THANK YOU SO MUCH! This means a lot to me! And, my dude, I just portray what I think of him- that he's the biggest freaking green flag EVER lol. And don't even worry about requesting etiquette, I just joined tumblr a couple weeks ago so you're totally fine, I wouldn't even know either. I'm just glad I could be your first request! Hope I do it justice, thanks again for your support. Also sorry for the wait. Also there were so many different ways I could've gone with this prompt so I hope the one I chose turns out okay.
Honest
There was always a line out the door of officers looking to train with you and today was no different.
Besides the fact that your technique was utterly flawless and you made combat look as graceful as ballet, you were also just stunningly gorgeous. Any man would die just to get a glimpse of you, let alone spar with you. Taking a punch to the face or a kick to the abdomen was an honor if it was from you.
And you were always the same with every man, you never showed any favoritism. You'd give them the same small smile, giving your honest advice when asked, but nothing more than that. You never even blinked at someone longer than you usually did with anyone else.
But even though it seemed like no one had caught (or could catch) your particular attention, there was in fact one man that you had to actively try to subdue your feelings for. You were thankful that no one had noticed that every time a certain Vice Captain walked into the room, your eyes always somehow wandered in the opposite direction of him. And when you'd hear him laugh or even just give out orders, your teeth would clench together to keep from smiling at his voice.
You weren't one to give away parts of yourself easily, having lost all of your family, but one day you'd suddenly found that it was much harder for you to not want to just give everything to him. Especially when you had realized that he was into you too. No matter where you were on campus, he'd make it his mission to find you, to be near you. He'd tell you his best jokes, trying to get you to crack more than just your usual small smile. He'd fight all out with you during training sessions, trying to get you to break a sweat for once, claiming that it did something to him watching you all worked up. It had become quite the strain on you, trying to treat him the same as everyone else when you were dying to just push him up against a wall and kiss him. You'd settle for even just holding his hand or brushing your shoulder up against his. But this wasn't like you- to want such immature, naive things.
You were someone who was wanted, you did not want. You were someone who was needed, you did not need. In fact, you were so hesitant to rely on anything, that if you could've figured out a way to live without oxygen you would've so as to not be indebted to the air filling your lungs.
Your skill and your independence were your swords and you wielded them with grace, distancing yourself from the crowds, but making yourself into a pretty show for them to watch. You were fine if they watched you, as long as that was all that they did. You couldn't imagine someone actually courting you, touching you, loving you.
But you did imagine Hoshina- it was more often than you'd like to admit and it irked you. You thought about just flat out ignoring him, turning down his requests to spar with you. But then he'd be different than everyone else. He'd be someone who spurred enough emotion in you to warrant unnatural behavior. And you refused to give in to emotion, especially emotion so childish and needy as something like love.
So you spent the day the way you always did, giving every officer a proper amount of time to train with you, and ending each session with a curt smile and a nod, gesturing for the next combatant to approach.
But then the alarm went off, signaling a kaiju attack. You thought you'd handle this the way you always did, no mess, no fuss, just efficient and effortless. But this was no ordinary kaiju and tonight was no ordinary night.
You had let all the lower ranking officers handle yoju duty and you had gone straight for the daikaiju. That was not abnormal behavior, you were always confident in your skills and they always served you well. But not tonight.
Tonight, you were humbled in the most brutal way possible.
Your fight had drawn you away from the rest of the squad, and now you were glad it had because you were ashamed to be in such a sorry, gruesome state. You had sustained heavy damage and for the first time in your life, you genuinely considered you might die here.
You thought of all the friends and family that you'd lost to war, kaiju, sickness. You wondered if you were ready to join them. It would be easier to let go.
"But I'm not done yet... I haven't..." You spit up blood, and shakily rise to your feet, groaning at the effort. I haven't even told him how I felt yet, damnit, you think to yourself, unable to speak the words aloud. Without meaning to, you being to cry. You don't have a free hand to wipe the tears away, as one clutches your dripping abdomen trying to stop the flow of blood, and one clings to your gun, aching as you attempt to raise it again. You fire a weak shot but your combat power is high enough that it distracts the kaiju for a moment.
And a moment is all that you need.
"Hey there, princess. You look like you could use a little saving. Don't worry, I won't tell the guys."
Right before your eyes, the beast suddenly splits into little dissected pieces and they rain down on the pavement, pelting the ground.
For the first time in years, you smile a real genuine smile as the Vice Captain holds his hand out to you. You're relieved to be alive to make it to another day, and you're shocked at how relieved you are. You don't remember when life began to feel so precious to you.
Maybe it was when you'd accidentally overheard a conversation where Hoshina was telling another officer that you'd be the one to bring hope to future generations.
Maybe it was when you'd forgotten your lunch one day and he'd sacrificed his lunch to leave it in your locker for you to find when your growling stomach had sent you hungrily ravaging through it for any snack you might've left behind.
Or maybe... maybe it was when your last living relative died and everyone whispered to each other about how cold you were for not shedding a tear and keeping your chin up when all you wanted to do was curl up and cry, but he alone told you in passing (not wanting to make a scene) that it was okay to grieve in whichever way you pleased.
And now he was holding a hand out to you. And you thought if you took it you might never let go. You might want to know where this led, what your feelings felt like when you let them roam wild, what he felt like in your arms.
Before you can decide if you truly want to take that terrifying step, his hand clasps yours and he pulls you in for a hug.
"You did good." He whispers in your ear.
You shake your head but you don't pull away from him. "I didn't. I almost died. You had to save me. I wasn't good enough."
"You're enough. You did well." He repeats, firmer this time.
You sigh against him, exhaling every pent up feeling you'd been holding on to. "Th-thank you, Vice Captain."
He pulls back a little and grins at you. "It's Soshiro, actually."
You bite your lip, trying to force down the warmth that's started to flood into your cheeks.
"You know I've never seen you like this before. It's a good look on you." He teases.
"Shut up, Soshiro."
He grins even wider at you using his first name so soon. "You get your butt kicked for the first time, you actually blush, and then you raise your voice at me? What is going on with you today?" He chuckles, nudging you playfully.
"I think... I think I might want to try something. Something different." You say finally.
He raises a curious eyebrow at you. "And what's that, princess?"
"Being honest with myself for once."
And with that, you pull him in and kiss him.
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romanoffsbish · 4 months
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I’m Fine 🙂 / Save Me 🙃
Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader (Familial / Sisters)
Warnings: Angst w/Bittersweet Ending | Reader Dies | Black Widow / Red Room Canon | Addiction | “Cry for Help”
All she had left was the memory of you. | WC: 1,512
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"Do you ever feel like you're all alone in this world?"
Natasha looked up from her laptop quick. "What?"
"Like, no matter how hard you try, no one will ever love or regard you in the same way you do them?"
——
Natasha tried to approach you gently, "Y/N." Yet she wasn't quick enough as you jumped back. "Shut up."
There was a fire in your eyes she hardly recognized, and she took a step back. Looking in your eyes hurt, because you were not the same little girl who used to pick flowers from the garden just for her hair and part of her took blame for that. "Don't try and pretend like you do." If you were a wine you'd be the most bitter. "I don't know why you even keep me around Natasha."
The redhead scoffed bitterly, "because I love you!" It stung to feel the burden in her words—you're hurting yourself just to spite her, but she hurt you first and with the way your mind was racing this made sense.
"Or is it because you feel guilty?" You countered, and hit it on the head as she whispered, "Y/N, please..."
Crushing her the same way she did you the day she left you behind, in a place built to destroy a dreamer like you, in the hands of a man set out to punish you for the mistakes of the woman you loved the most. Ouch.
"Do you think the world would miss me if I vanished?"
"Of cou—." You mindlessly cut her off, words tinged with vitriol, "Of course not. You're the one they'd hold the candlelight vigils for, you'll be on a mural and I'd be the one the stray cats would miss, because just like them I know what it's like to truly have no place."
"Have you been smoking pot?" It reeked the longer she stood closer to you. Then you all but confirmed it as you grew defensive. "Is that all you can ask Natasha?"
Natasha clicked her tongue. "Answer the question."
"Yes," you monotoned, "what does that change?"
"Everything." You grew rather frustrated, "but how?"
“You’re not making any sense,” she tried to reason but you laughed incredulously, “this is the first time in my entire life that I am making complete sense, Natalia.”
"I don't like it when you're like this, sestra."
"I'm always like this." Natasha sighed, "yeah..."
"Yeah?" Natasha nodded shamefully and you couldn't stop the sob from breaking. She hated you.
"Then I won't be anything to you, anymore."
Natasha shot up in a cold sweat, her wife beater tank top sticking to her skin, the words of your last fight still ringing in her head; a cry for help and she was useless.
"Fuck," she hiccuped, her knees pulled to her chest as she sobbed alongside the sky just outside the window. She dug the heels of her palms into her eyes and tried to force the pity she felt for herself away, the grief...
There were so many things she could have said; done.
I don't understand, but I want to; talk to me...
Had she ran after you, would it be different now?
Could've grabbed you by the arm. Don't go. Stay.
I love you more than you could ever know.
Instead she scoffed, 'at least I can finish my paperwork now,' and let you storm out the door without noticing the keys to her brand new jet black Porsche were gone.
Yelena still won't return her calls. Melina and Alexei are beside themselves in a grief harsher than her own. Though she internally wagers that her loss was the greatest, because you were her little widow first...
~-~-~———————-~-~———————-~-~-~
"Natty?" the blue haired girl looked at you with a wide grin, the innocence of the nickname you gave her was endearing and in the same breath, twisted. It was clear to her you didn't remember much of the before. You were four years her junior, so similar to Yelena, this life was honestly all you'd known. "Da, malen'kiy pauk?"
Natasha laughed just as soon as you giggled. It brought her joy to know, that for a while, you could be free of the harsh shackles that awaited you all back home.
"A little girl at school today told me about how in her family, when a person goes away, that they can become something else when they visit." Natasha nearly lost the joy on her face as you curiously approached death. In her mind the hope you held onto was futile, that when you shoot someone between the eyes, they are as good as gone, but she could never destroy you like that.
Instead, she gave life to your wonder, "What would you want to be then, a kitty?" You shook your head and blurted your answer easily, "malen'kiy pauk." The gaps in your teeth only made your smile more endearing, and the redhead opened her arms to you. You launched yourself into your sister's arms and gripped her tight.
"Then I could visit you," you mumbled against her shirt and the natural redhead tensed. The idea of you no longer existing felt unpleasant—her walls crumbled the moment you and Yelena entered her life but this was the first time she'd felt anything excruciating.
"Moya malen'kiy pauk," she chuckled softly so as to not cry instead, she placed a kiss to your cheek then hoped your childlike attention span would change the tune.
Then a familiar jingle sounded and you were scrambling into the house, shrieking for your mom.
Natasha shook her head and walked to the old man who knowingly parked out front of your house. He handed the redhead three ice creams, and a disk.
—————
You stood next to Natasha in the line for lunch, which was just a tasteless tray variety of essential nutrients. It was rule of thumb not to talk in line, but you were never one to follow the rules, and neither was Natasha.
"Are you scared of death?" Natasha frowned. "What?"
"I think a healthy fear for the end is fair, but I'm not losing sleep over the concept. Why do you ask?"
"Because I'm honestly not," you shrugged, stance indifferent but Natasha unfortunately believed you as you went on to say, "just wondering if I'm alone."
"Never with us," Yelena chimed in. "Death is an inevitability, just a matter of the when and how."
It wasn't hard to see to the fear in the blonde's eyes as she kept up her indifferent demeanor. Deep down, Natasha knew she was still that little girl from Ohio, who up until recently called fireflies, forest stars.
"I can't believe it," your tone clipped, the warmth you used to greet her with was gone. "I'll be back," she lied without realizing, but you could see it clearly. "Izhets."
(Liar)
"Y/N, I am going to end it once and for all," she hoped you could see the bigger picture, a promised freedom.
"Tozhe tupoy," you chuckled humorlessly. "There is no end, just more opportunities to build up defense."
(Dumb too)
Natasha fell for the American's words of ignorance.
"I love you," she said with certainty before she was one with the shadows, the last piece of your hope gone as it'd been years since you last caught sight of Lena.
~-~-~———————-~-~———————-~-~-~
A loud cry outside the purposely cracked window pulled her from her bittersweet thoughts of you...
Natasha stood beneath the tarp of your balcony, eyes downcast on a gorgeous white cat, paws soiled by the mud she trudged through with her three kittens. The redhead set a plate of food down for her then settled down beside her, towel in hand as she dried her babies.
The light of the moon cast over the kittens, reflecting off their varied fur patterns. A black one meowed, calling to her first among the litter, he hissed softly at the unfamiliar lift but settled fast as she began to dry his fur, pulling off grime and putting him to sleep.
The same occurred with the next boy cat, who was a gorgeous shade of gray, with faint swirls of orange.
Lastly, the smallest of the three, a gorgeous blend of white, brown and orange. She was the most vocal.
A grateful purr came from the mama cat when the redhead moved on to her paws, her eyes fluttered open at the unexpected contact, and when Natasha lifted her own gaze she gasped. With the light now on her face the color of her eyes was clear, a tear streamed down Nat's face without warning. The color and deep feeling of understanding behind them were just so, you.
"Oh my," a subdued laugh left her as she caught sight of something else, she scooped the feline into her lap, and placed a finger on her wet, pink nose in waiting. The blur of black transferred right on over and the woman smiled truly for the first time in eight months. "Dobro pozhalovat' domoy, moy malen'kiy pauk."
(Welcome home, my little spider)
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