#I was going to sleep and thought of this and shot up in bed so fast

[rosemariiaa]

~Lasts Firsts~

pairing: Paige x Azzi

a/n: yes i did lose my mind writing this but i had to! this is also my apology for the last fic.. 🤗 this is pretty long so take your time babe, also some tags @thaatdigitaldiary @patscorner @bueckerscore @juspeaks

themes: fluff, teasing

Enjoy!!!

It was barely 8:00 AM when Paige rolled over, her arm draping across the empty space next to her. She blinked into the early morning light, trying to shake off the sleep. She could already hear Azzi in the bathroom, humming softly, the sound so familiar it brought a small smile to her lips.

Last media day together.

The thought lingered like a weight on her chest, bittersweet and heavy. She dragged herself out of bed, feeling that familiar ache in her muscles from practice the day before, and made her way to the bathroom.

Azzi was standing in front of the mirror, twisting one of her curls between her fingers. Paige leaned against the doorframe, taking in the sight of her girlfriend’s morning routine—how peaceful she looked, even though they both knew today was going to be pretty emotional.

“Ready for the chaos?” Paige mumbled, voice still hoarse from sleep.

Azzi turned her head, giving Paige that small smile she always had when she knew Paige was nervous about something. “You asking me or yourself?”

Paige snorted, stepping closer until she was leaning against the counter beside Azzi. “Both, I guess.”

They didn’t say much after that, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Paige stared at her reflection for a moment, the weight of everything finally sinking in. Last media day, last season. After this? The WNBA.

“You think we’ll survive?” Paige asked quietly, her tone light but not really joking. Azzi met her eyes in the mirror, and for a second, Paige saw all the emotions they hadn’t really said out loud. There was excitement, sure, but underneath it was that uncertainty, the looming unknown of what came next.

“Paige,” Azzi said, her voice softer than usual. “You’re gonna be fine. We’re gonna be fine. You’ve been ready for this.”

Paige didn’t respond at first, just dropped her gaze to the sink. She’d been thinking about this a lot more than she’d let on. The WNBA wasn’t just another level—it was the next chapter of her life. And as much as she knew she wanted it, there was a part of her that was terrified.

“What if I’m not, though?” Paige’s voice came out quieter than she meant. “What if I mess this up? I mean… WNBA? That’s a whole new ballgame.”

Azzi turned around fully now, leaning her hip against the counter. She reached out, gently grabbing Paige’s wrist, thumb brushing over her skin in that way that always calmed her down.

“You’ve been playing against pros for years, P. You’re gonna go in there and do exactly what you do best. And… don’t forget you’ll be up against Diana, you’re probably gonna block her shots and then she’ll talk all kinds of shit you know how she gets,” Azzi teased, trying to pull Paige out of her thoughts.

Paige couldn’t help but chuckle, the tension in her chest easing just a little. “I can’t wait for Diana to “hate” me.” Azzi smirked. “Just don’t embarrass her too much.”

“Oh, I will. But not before embarrassing your Aces,” Paige shot back, her grin widening as Azzi’s eyes narrowed in mock warning.

“Excuse me?” Azzi gasped dramatically. “You better not mess with my team. If you even think about beating them, I’ll fly out there and beat you up.”

Paige laughed, leaning into Azzi, her forehead resting against hers. “You’re cute when you threaten me.”

“Not a threat, babe,” Azzi replied, her smile softening as she tilted her head just slightly, brushing her nose against Paige’s. “I’m dead serious. Leave the Aces alone.”

Paige wrapped her arms loosely around Azzi’s waist, finally letting herself breathe. For a second, she could forget about the future. It was just the two of them again, standing in their shared apartment, holding on to each other before the world outside came rushing in.

———-

By the time they arrived in the gym, the chaos was already in full swing, with half the girls making tiktok’s and going crazy per usual. The cameras, the bright lights, the reporters—it was all routine by now, but this time, everything felt heightened. It was their last one. The final first.

Paige watched as Azzi stepped in front of the camera, her expression automatically settling into her “game face,” the serious one she always had before interviews. Paige stood to the side, arms crossed, watching with amusement.

“You look like you’re about to kill somebody,” she muttered under her breath as she moved to stand beside Azzi for their photos. Azzi shot her a look. “I’m just focused.”

“Focused on terrifying everyone,” Paige teased, nudging her with her shoulder.

Azzi tried not to smile, but it broke through anyway, and Paige could feel the tension between them melt a little as they fell into the easy rhythm of their chemistry. They took their usual photos, Paige throwing her arm around Azzi’s shoulders, and their traditional piggyback pose, the same way they’ve done a thousand times before. But this time, the air between them felt different—heavier, full of all the memories they shared.

After the cameras stopped flashing, they hung back for a bit, watching the rest of the team get their moments in front of the lens.

“This feels… weird, right?” Paige said, her voice a little quieter now.

Azzi just nodded. “Yeah. But… it’s also kinda nice, knowing we did this together.”

Paige looked at her, her chest tightening with that familiar feeling of bittersweetness. “You’re gonna make me cry.” Azzi gave her a teasing smirk. “That’s my plan.”

———-

The media day madness finally wrapped up, and before Azzi could even think about unwinding, Paige had dragged her back home with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“What are you planning, Bueckers?” Azzi asked, standing in the doorway of their apartment, her arms crossed. “You’ll see. Just get dressed,” Paige said with a grin, shooing her toward the bedroom.

Azzi rolled her eyes but went along with it, emerging a few minutes later in the white tube top with Paige’s pink cover-up and those low-waisted jeans that Paige always went quiet about. She gave a little twirl, watching Paige’s eyes darken slightly.

“Stole my clothes again, huh?” Paige asked, leaning against the wall, trying to look unfazed.

Azzi smirked. “You love it.”

Paige just shook her head. “Get in the car, weirdo.”

They spent the car ride to the restaurant in comfortable silence, the only sound being Paige’s playlist—songs she’d carefully picked over the years, ones that always made her think of Azzi. At some point, Mitski came on, and Azzi hummed softly to the tune, stealing glances at Paige, who was drumming her fingers on the steering wheel.

“So, P,” Azzi started casually, “how nervous are you to play against Diana?”

Paige chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m not nervous are ut playing against Diana. I’m nervous about her kicking my ass after I block her.” Azzi laughed, the sound light and warm. “She probably will. I’ll be sitting courtside, watching her destroy you.”

“Thanks for the support babe,” Paige muttered, but she was smiling. Azzi always knew how to pull her out of her head when she got too wrapped up in her own thoughts.

“And just remember,” Azzi said, her tone a little more serious but still playful, “if you mess with the Aces, I will find you madison.”

Paige threw her a sideways glance. “Oh, I know. You won’t have to find me—I’ll be waiting for you.”

Azzi grinned. “You better be.”

———-

When they got to the restaurant, Paige made sure they sat in a booth—one where she could sit across from Azzi and just look at her. It wasn’t the most subtle thing in the world, but Paige didn’t care. Azzi caught on, of course, giving her a raised eyebrow.

“What? I just like looking at you,” Paige said with a shrug, grinning like she hadn’t just been caught.

Azzi rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. “You’re ridiculous.”

They were mid-conversation when the waiter came over, a girl with a bright smile who seemed way too interested in Azzi. Paige noticed immediately, her smile dropping slightly as the woman complimented Azzi’s hair, her outfit, even her smile. Azzi, as usual, was completely oblivious.

“Thanks,” Azzi said, flashing the girl a casual smile, but Paige could see what was going on, and it annoyed her just enough to act on it.

Without a second thought, Paige reached across the table, placing her hand firmly over Azzi’s. The waiter glanced down, her smile faltering as she realized the situation, quickly taking their order and backing off with a stiff nod.

Azzi blinked, glancing down at their hands before looking back up at Paige with an amused expression. “Was that jealousy?” Paige scoffed. “No, that was me stopping her from embarrassing herself.”

Azzi grinned, squeezing Paige’s hand. “Uh-huh. Sure, Paige.”

After dinner, the laughter between them hadn’t stopped. Even as they waved goodbye to their server, still teasing each other about that moment of jealousy, the warmth between them stayed, making the whole night feel like a dream.

Azzi didn’t even bother pulling out her card when the check arrived. The second she started reaching for her wallet, Paige shot her a look, the kind of look that said, don’t even think about it. Azzi had seen that look so many times before and just grinned, leaning back in her seat as Paige effortlessly snatched the check, sliding her own card inside before Azzi even got a chance to protest.

“Every time?” Azzi asked, her tone half-amused, half-resigned.

Paige just shrugged, a cocky smile on her lips. “I like spoiling you. What can I say?”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but the truth was she loved it too. It was a Paige thing—doing little things like this without asking, always showing she cared in her own way.

After they walked out of the restaurant, Paige naturally slipped her arm around Azzi’s waist like she always did. It wasn’t even a conscious move anymore; it was just how Paige was. Her hand rested comfortably against Azzi’s side, pulling her a little closer as they walked down the quiet street. Azzi leaned into her touch, feeling the warmth from Paige’s body and the comfort that always came with being this close.

Paige’s grip was gentle but firm, protective in a way that Azzi had always loved. It was something Paige did, even when she didn’t realize it—holding her close, like she was making sure Azzi knew she was always there, no matter what. It made Azzi smile, thinking about how many times Paige had held her like this over the years, whether after a tough game, during quiet moments between them, or just walking down the street like this.

They kept walking, laughing softly, the cool night air brushing against their faces, but neither of them seemed to notice. Everything felt easy between them, and Paige, in her usual way, kept the conversation light. Azzi could tell Paige was doing it on purpose, making her laugh to keep them from thinking too much about all the changes on the horizon.

They were about halfway to the car when Azzi suddenly slowed her pace, and Paige’s arm tightened slightly around her waist, glancing over with a curious look.

“You okay?” Paige asked, her voice casual but her gaze full of affection.

Azzi didn’t answer right away. She stopped, turning toward Paige and stepping in closer. Paige’s arm never left her waist, holding her in place like she always did, her body warm against Azzi’s side. Azzi stared at Paige for a long moment, just taking her in—the messy hair, the soft smile, the way she was always so present, so hers.

“I love you,” Azzi said suddenly, her voice soft but full of all the emotion she had been holding in. It wasn’t planned—it just came out, like it had been sitting on her chest, waiting for the right moment.

Paige blinked, a smile tugging at her lips as her eyes softened. Her hand on Azzi’s waist tightened slightly, pulling her just a bit closer. “I love you too,” she whispered, her voice gentle, almost like she couldn’t believe how lucky she was to hear those words.

They both stood there for a second, letting the words hang between them. Then, without thinking, Azzi reached up and cupped Paige’s face, pulling her in for a kiss. Paige didn’t hesitate, meeting her halfway, her lips soft and warm as they kissed in the middle of the street, the world around them fading away.

Paige’s arm stayed wrapped securely around Azzi’s waist as their kiss deepened, and it felt like everything else just melted away. It wasn’t rushed or frantic—it was slow and full of love, the kind of kiss that felt like a promise.

Azzi could feel Paige’s heartbeat against her own, steady and strong, and she knew, in that moment, that no matter what happened, no matter how far apart they might be in the future, they’d always have this. They’d always have each other.

When they finally pulled back, Paige’s forehead rested against Azzi’s, their breaths mixing in the cool night air. Paige smiled, her hand gently caressing Azzi’s side. “You’re stuck with me, you know that?” she whispered, her voice teasing but full of love.

Azzi grinned, her thumb tracing along Paige’s cheek. “Forever.”

———-

yeaa…that was a lot and so darn cute 🥹

[sserpente]

Checkmate

“You know, maybe we should play strip chess instead. I think I would be motivated to win if I could get you naked!”

 “Strip chess?” Sylus’ eyebrows shot up. He blinked, observing you wordlessly for a moment. “Very well. Let’s take this up a notch. You lose one piece of clothing for every piece you lose in the game.”

A/N: What’s this? Another red-eyed, pale-skinned and silver-haired morally grey man? Might as well.

Words: 1386 Warnings: smut

You made it a point to sigh. Loudly. With your chin propped up on your elbows, you were sitting across from Sylus on the bed in your pyjamas, a chessboard in between you creating more distance from him than you wanted.

“Are you going to hyperventilate, kitten? This is the third time you’re sighing like this.”

“This is boring, Sylus.”

“Ah, you didn’t hear me complaining after ten long rounds of Kitty Cards, now did you?” He didn’t look up as he spoke. His crimson eyes were fixed on the chequered game board but his voice was not without that teasing tone that always drove you mad and never failed to turn you into a horny mess. Especially now, with how casually he was sitting on the bed with crossed legs and clad in comfortable clothes.

“The chess pieces aren’t meowing at me, it’s not the same. You know I’m bad at chess.”

“Then you’ll get better.” He made his move—and unfortunately, it didn’t mean much to you. You barely remembered the names of all the different pieces but you hadn’t wanted to turn him down when he asked for a round. Time spent with him was rare due to your different sleep schedules, and your visits to the N109 zones were even rarer. Things would change soon. But until then, you’d soak up every minute you could get with him. Even if he wanted to play chess. Even if it was boring as fuck.

“It’s your turn, kitten.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m thinking.” Another sigh. This time, Sylus chuckled in response.

“How do I move this piece again?” You pointed at the chess piece resembling a horse, tilting your head innocently.

“Kitten…” Oh, now that was a reproachful kitten.

“I forgot! I’m sorry, I can’t help it but chess is so boring.” You paused, thinking. “You know, maybe we should play strip chess instead. I think I would be motivated to win if I could get you naked!”

“Strip chess?” Sylus' eyebrows shot up. He blinked, observing you wordlessly for a moment. “Very well. Let’s take this up a notch. You lose one piece of clothing for every piece you lose in the game.”

You frowned and looked down on yourself. Perhaps you should have thought this through first. Sylus was wearing a light jacket, socks, a shirt, a pair of trousers, and likely underwear. You on the other hand had only two pieces of clothing on you—a silk pyjama set with the night sky and embroidered stars on it, a gift from him the first time you returned to the N109 zone to stay with him for a few days. It had been waiting for you on the king-size bed in the guest room. You almost chuckled. You’d never slept in that bed until this day.

“Having second thoughts?” he mused.

You shook your head. “No. Let’s keep playing. It was my turn, yeah?”

He blinked once as if to say yes, his expression so amused you wanted to sigh yet again. This time, however, you really did put some effort in. If you beat him, he’d be sitting across from you naked. So if you moved your pawn over there…

“I’m done.”

“Are you sure?”

“What do you mean ‘are you sure’? Don’t make me second-guess myself!”

“Very well…” He moved another piece himself and chuckled. “There goes your knight, sweetie.”

“Ugh! What?”

“Come now. You set up the rules yourself.”

You glared at him and aggressively took your pyjama top off to throw it at his face where it landed with a thud before falling into his lap. His amused grin was even more irritating than the complexity of this silly game. He had the reflexes to catch the piece of clothing. He could have. He simply decided not to. Ugh.

“There. Happy?”

You had hopes that sitting in front of him topless would distract him enough to make a mistake but who were you kidding? Even if he did make a mistake, you were nowhere near skilled enough to beat him at this game. Sylus knew that very well. You’d just hoped that you could snatch up enough of his pieces to see him naked again.

But the stern leader of Onychinus was nothing if not composure personified. He didn’t even bat an eyelash at your half-naked form even though you could clearly tell it did not leave him unaffected. His crimson eyes raked over your breasts and your hardening nipples due to the cool temperatures in his bedroom.

A few moments later though, he moved another piece. Sylus chuckled. “Checkmate.”

You gasped, your eyes darting back down to the chessboard. “What? How?”

“You’ve been focused on your queen too much. Now your king has nowhere left to go. See?” He pointed at the two pieces that cornered your white king. How annoying.

“That’s not fair! You tricked me!”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You backed me into a corner!”

“You didn’t pay attention.”

“That’s impossible considering I’m topless and you’re still wearing all of your clothes! Was there even a way out?”

“There was.”

“But…but…ugh!”

Sylus raised an eyebrow and gave you a toothless grin. “I’m waiting.” He gestured at your pyjama bottoms.

“For what? The game is over, you’re still wearing all of your clothes and I’m still bored.”

Sylus laughed. “And you lost yet another piece. Don’t be a sore loser, sweetie.”

“I’m…not!” Cursing him under your breath you leaned back and shrugged off your pyjama bottoms without taking your eyes off him. It wasn’t nearly as sexy as you had hoped for it to be but beggars couldn’t be choosers. “This really didn’t go according to plan…”

“Your ‘plans’ never do, kitten.”

You scoffed. “Now what?”

“Now? You let me admire the view and revel in my triumph.”

“You’re impossible.”

Sylus chuckled. “You’ll find I’m very much possible. Come here.”

Now that was something he didn’t need to tell you twice. You crawled over to him fast, ignoring how the remaining chess pieces fell off the board in the process and made yourself comfortable on his lap. Sylus cradled your naked form in his arms as if you were a fragile porcelain doll. Your eyes fell shut almost automatically when he kissed your forehead.

His hands were less innocent. They ghosted over your exposed skin raising goose bumps where they went. It was sheer luck he didn’t tease you for how quickly your legs fell open when one of them travelled lower and lower, over your breasts and your hard nipples, your stomach and eventually…between your legs to where your body wanted him the most.

“Naughty little kitten, have you been this wet for me the whole time?”

You hummed in agreement, rubbing your nose against the crook of his neck.

Testing the waters, his long fingers started rubbing and caressing your outer lips until they slid between them with ease to tease your clit. Probing and exploring, working you up for him until he had you gushing and whimpering in his lap.

“Why…why were we playing chess if…if we could have just done this…the whole time…instead?”

“As much as I enjoy our…intimate moments, I do place value on spending intellectually stimulating time with you too, kitten.”

“Now you’re…making it sound like I’m…sex-crazed…around you…” Your panting increased, an all too familiar knot tightening in your lower belly.

Sylus laughed. “You’re not. Although…I wouldn’t blame you after getting that first taste.”

“You’re impossible,” you breathed out again. The words were followed by a moan. Sylus slid two fingers into your slick warmth, curling them inside you all the while his thumb kept caressing your clit. Shit, you were so close…so close…

“Sylus…”

“What is it, kitten? Tell me…”

“I’m…I will…oh shit…”

“Come for me,” he growled into your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

He didn’t need to tell you twice. You let go and fell, your orgasm rippling through you like pure electricity. Your wet walls tightened around his long fingers as he helped you ride it out and relish the taste of every last wave of pleasure consuming you. You kept clenching around rhythmically as that feeling of pure bliss slowly ebbed away again, leaving you breathless in his arms.

“Next time…” you choked out of breath, “…we’re playing UNO.”

Sylus chuckled. “As you wish, kitten.”

[likeumeanit9497]

i know you know | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: after a night at a party, matt hears his best friend sleeping with someone. the memory of it overtakes him all the next day, and he can't get it off his mind. but what happens when it turns out that she wanted him to hear all along?

warnings: SMUT (holy fuck this is smutty); established friendship; oral (m/f receiving); unprotected p in v (don't do this); absolutely filthy talk; voyeurism vibes; switch!matt; mentions of alcohol; 18+

notes: guys i fear i might have just written my new fave one shot. i warned y'all that i only have matt ideas rn, but this one is SO GOOD i had to post immediately. i normally don't go feral for my own writing but this one made me get up and do a few laps around the house tbh. i hope y'all like it as much as i liked writing it LOVE U LOVE U LOVE U MUAH

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

“Matt?” You called his name as you began climbing up his front steps. “Hey, I’m doing laundry.” His voice rang through the house, and as you entered the empty kitchen you saw his back in the hallway as he folded a pair of jeans and placed them on the neat pile of clean laundry stacked on top of the washing machine. You wrapped your arms around him from behind, resting your head on his shoulder for a moment half in greeting and half to help ease the pounding in your heavy head.

“Last night almost killed me. How are you feeling?” You asked him, lifting your head off of his shoulder so that he could face you. His eyes were tired, his hair was a mess, but there was a slight glint of curiosity in his eyes that caught you off guard. After staring at you for a moment too long, he replied. “I feel alright. Slept most of the day though.” You released a soft laugh.

Last night, you and Matt went to a big party for one of your mutual friends. What was supposed to be an early night — both of you agreeing to show face for an hour and then head home — turned into one filled with dancing, too much tequila, and a night spent on the couch of the host for you both. Once you were both sober in the morning, Matt drove you home and you both tended to your own hangovers for the rest of the day. Now it was Sunday evening, and you two decided to spend it watching a movie and eating shitty food.

“Same here,” You replied, “I literally rolled out of bed 30 minutes ago. You’re lucky I even had enough energy to drive over here.” You leaned against the running dryer, and watched as one of Matt’s eyebrows arched as he continued folding clothes. “Oh, I don’t doubt that.” He replied, a smile threatening to creep over his mouth. Noticing the knowing tone in his voice, you grew confused.

What you didn’t know, was that Matt knew that it wasn’t just the two of you who had spent the night on that sectional couch. He had noticed you spending a lot of time with Carrington, a good friend of the host. He watched the two of you throughout the night — he saw you touch him any chance you got; saw you dance on him once you got really drunk; and most definitely saw you press your lips to his at the end of the night. So, late last night as he tried his best to sleep, when he heard the creek of the stairs and felt the dip in the couch, he knew that Carrington had laid down with you. That was confirmed when he heard the soft whispers that you two shared before the sound of wet kisses filled the dark room. A moment later, he laid as still as he could as he felt the couch begin to move in a rhythm that could only mean one thing.

Although you and Matt had the type of strong friendship where you both felt comfortable telling the other about your sex lives, never before had either of you been so close in proximity to the act itself. Although he was facing the opposite direction, Matt knew that your feet were only centimetres from his head, and the thought of invading your privacy like this, albeit unintentional, made his cheeks flush red. Even in his belligerent state, Matt had been shocked, and he considered making the fact that he was still awake known. Until he heard it.

Your soft moans floated like music in his mind, and they were unlike anything he had heard before. They were angelic, breathless; as if the air was being pushed out of your lungs involuntarily to create the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. The heat that he felt in his cheeks immediately began travelling down his body, right to his growing member. And then, the unmistakable wet sounds of your arousal — surely dripping from you not more than two feet away from his ear — caused his head to spin. The two sounds radiating from you created the perfect harmony, and they made his cock press excruciatingly against his stomach; desperate for some relief.

The movement of the couch — and with it, your moans and wetness — increased in speed. As it did, your soft voice, so familiar and divine, whispered into the quiet room, “I’m gonna cum!” Matt pressed his pelvis into the couch, doing his best to relieve some of the pressure he felt in the tip of his cock. As your moans got louder, his heart pounded faster. Suddenly, as you reached your orgasm and began riding the waves, he felt one of your feet lightly graze his bare back. Goosebumps immediately rose on his skin, and the slight contact in combination with everything he heard was so intense that he thought he was going to cum all over himself.

But just then, the room grew painfully silent once again. After some time, the indistinguishable whispering returned, then the sound of one quick kiss, and finally, the creaking sound of the stairs. You two were alone once again, and in the silence Matt began to question whether or not he had dreamt it all. That was, until he heard your soft voice whisper his name. Immediately, he felt his body react, but stayed as still as possible so that you would think he was asleep. He seemed to do a good enough job, as after not getting a response, you slowly got off the bed and walked to the bathroom.

Once he heard the door click shut, his eyes shot open. The air was filled with the addictive smell of sex, and his cock had grown so hard that it was throbbing. Tentatively, he ran his hand along his shaft still in his boxers and had to stifle a guttural moan from the brief contact. No, he couldn’t do this here. Not when you were in the next room able to walk back through the door at any moment. He didn’t want you to think he was a creep. He would just have to try to get to sleep, and deal with his spiralling brain tomorrow.

Well, now it was tomorrow, and he had spent the entire day thinking about it. When he had woken up to your smiling face asking for a ride home, he had felt riddled with guilt; as if he had taken advantage of you. The guilt was only exemplified when, once he was alone, he had spent every minute thinking about it; his dick growing hard every time he heard your moans in the back of his mind. Even as he slept the day away, he had dreams about it and had even woken himself up by grinding his hips against his mattress. It had been driving him crazy, and now you were standing in front of him, seemingly oblivious to everything that had been running through his mind, and he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Hello? Earth to Matt?” Your voice pulled him out of his train of thought, and immediately his cheeks flushed when he realized that he had been completely zoned out for god knows how long. “Oh, uh, sorry.” He mumbled, folding the shirt he had in his hands. “You’ve deadass folded and re-folded that shirt like five times. Are you okay?” You asked, concern etched across your face. Gulping, Matt nodded his head. “Shit really? Must be the brain fog.” He forced out a laugh that sounded painful to his own ears, but it seemed to be convincing enough for you, as you once again relaxed against the dryer.

Matt’s focus went back to the pile of clothes in front of him, and as he began organizing the pile of socks, he heard what he had been reimagining over and over again in his mind. That now achingly familiar soft moan of yours. His whole body jolted in shock, the sound much more vivid than it had been in his memory. Slowly, his eyes were pulled from the laundry to your face, and he found your eyes shut in ecstasy as you leaned against the running dryer. His jaw almost dropped at the sight, and his cock, already having been on high alert all day, immediately responded.

“This feels so good.” You whispered, just as you had the night before, and Matt had to brace himself against the washing machine to stay upright. Your eyes were still closed, a small smile crept onto your full lips, and in that moment it all became too much for him. His cock was pulsing in rhythm with his rapid heartbeat, and as you released another small moan and bit your bottom lip, he began to wonder if maybe — just maybe — you had wanted him to hear you last night.

His hunch grew stronger and stronger as he continued to take in your expression with your back pressed against the dryer, and he felt the shame strip off of him as your hooded eyes finally opened slowly. They landed on his dilated eyes and slowly trailed down to the impressive bulge in his pants. Looking back up at his flushed face, you couldn’t help but smile shamelessly. Because he had been right.

It hadn’t been planned, of course, but once Carrington pushed himself into you, the thought of Matt being just on the other side of the couch filled you with a new and unfamiliar level of arousal. So as you moaned, you hoped that he would hear it. The thought of him listening caused you to grow more wet than you ever had before, and it didn’t take long for you to finish. As you came, you purposefully brushed your foot against him; trying to let him know that it was him you were thinking about as you unraveled.

You hadn’t been sure that he heard you, after all when you whispered his name he hadn’t answered, but the way he had been acting since you arrived at his house today — zoning out, avoiding eye contact, and seeming extremely flustered — you know that he knows. And knowing the effect it had on him, you want him to do something about it.

Matt watched as you put both hands on the dryer before hoisting yourself up to sit on it. With the dryer running, the vibration that came from it shot right to your core, and subconsciously your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

Matt watched, completely stunned, as you pleasured yourself on top of the dryer. He was in such a state of shock that he wasn’t even sure if this was real life. You rolled your hips once, twice, against the machine, and then suddenly your eyes were on him again. The pleasure you were experiencing was etched into your face — your full lips a dark shade of red, dark eyebrows knit together, pink cheeks flushed — and it drove him crazy. But it wasn’t until your lips turned up in a small smile and you grabbed his arm, pulling him towards you, that he was finally able to move.

“You heard me last night, didn’t you.” You finally regarded the elephant in the room, and watched as his eyes bulged slightly in surprise at your knowing gaze. Very slightly, he nodded his head; his eyes were planted on your lips. “Should we talk about it?” You asked, dragging your fingertips up and down his torso slowly; feeling his stomach tense each time you reached below his belly button. Still hypnotized by your lips, Matt placed his hands on each side of your face before shaking his head no.

Without hesitation, he engulfed your mouth with his own. They moved with a quivering desperation that can’t be sufficiently described with words. His hands ran through your hair, pulling you as close to him as he could. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, gasping at the feeling of his rock hard member pressing against your aching core. It seemed to affect him too, because as soon as they made contact a small grunt fell from his lips and landed on yours.

Matt’s hands eventually moved from your hair and snaked down to your waist, where he quickly pulled your loose-fitting sundress up and exposed your bare tits. You watched as he took a moment to admire their fullness before bringing his mouth to one. He nibbled and sucked on your sensitive nipple, shooting rays of pleasure down your spine. As he moved his mouth to your second tit, he gripped harshly onto your hips. With his grasp, he expertly titled your pelvis in such a way where your cunt was pressed directly against the dryer; causing moans to spill from your mouth from the vibration.

As he helped you roll your hips against the warm metal, he struggled to keep his composure as he heard you moan for himfor the first time. Just like last night, they were soft and breathy, as if you didn’t even notice them falling from your lips. But his ears caught every single one, and they drove him crazier each time. Looking down to where your body connected with the machine, his vision grew blurry as he noticed the fluid that had accumulated on top of the dryer; the same fluid that he had heard last night. “Mmm, so wet already?” He managed to purr in your ear, causing you to shudder in pleasure.

You nodded, letting your head fall back as the pleasure intensified by his words. “F-for you Matt— fuck! — all f-for you.” At your words, Matt stopped all of his movements, afraid that he would fall apart in seconds if you kept speaking like that. Looking up at your disoriented face, he noticed that the loss of friction was making you antsy. You hooked a small finger in his chain and pulled his lips to yours; kissing him deeply as his tongue swiped against your teeth begging for entrance. You pulled away, needing more than a kiss, and watched in awe as Matt read your mind and dropped to his knees in front of you. He brought his hands up to your hips where he grabbed onto the sides of your thong, slowly sliding it down your legs.

You watched, chest heaving, as he tossed your discarded thong into his pile of laundry that still needed to be washed without letting his eyes leave your dripping core. His eyes on you like this was exactly what you imagined as you thought of him last night, and the neediness in his blue eyes threw you into an erotic frenzy. He grabbed both of your legs and, after stroking them thoughtlessly for a few seconds, placed them on both of his shoulders. Eyes flittering between your core and your face, he spoke, “Need a taste.” His voice was gruff with arousal, and you responded by lacing your hands through his hair and pushing his beautiful face in between your legs.

As soon as his tongue ran up your slit to collect your arousal, he lost any hint of sanity that he still had. You were so sweet against his tastebuds, and so soft against his lips, it took everything out of him to not cream his pants. Instead, he effortlessly found your aching clit and began sucking and kissing the sensitive bundle of nerves. Already stimulated by the dryer, you felt yourself melt under the pressure of his tongue. He couldn’t stop himself from moaning against you, causing the vibration to echo through your entire body. You mindlessly began grinding yourself against his face, chasing a high so intense that nothing else seemed to matter.

Matt relished in the feeling of suffocating by you, and used his hands to spread you apart. He pulled away for a brief moment to take a look at you stretched open for him, and the sight of your dripping hole — begging, without words, to be filled — made him want to pull his cock out and slam it into you immediately. But no, he was going to savour this. So instead, he spit onto your cunt and began tongue fucking your hole. As he eagerly drank up all your juices, his tongue moving in and out of you quickly, you lost the ability to stifle your moans.

Even though he knew you were getting too loud — after all, Nick and Chris were somewhere in the house — Matt couldn’t get himself to shut you up. The sounds that fell from your lips were like music to his ears, and he wanted to listen to them forever. Besides, how could he tell you that you were being too loud when he was making all sorts of erotic noises with his mouth against your cunt?

Your head fell back against the dryer, it wouldn’t be long until you came. The build up was so intense, so good, that you almost didn’t want it to end. Plus, you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Matt’s poor cock, suffocating in his pants. As you imagined it, veiny and dark red at the tip, your mouth began to water. After coming back from the washroom and getting back on the couch last night, you glanced at Matt’s still frame and wondered if — even subconsciously, if he hadbeen sleeping — his body had reacted to what had happened. Your suspicion was furthered the next morning. When you went to wake him up to ask if he could drive you home, the blanket had slipped off of his lower body and exposed the imprint of his hardened cock; and your mouth watered. Since then, you had fantasized about taking all of him in your mouth as an apology for not helping him out that morning.

These thoughts raced through your bleary mind, and the pressure continued to increase in your lower stomach at Matt’s relentless tongue in between your legs. You wanted to cum, badly, but even more than that you wanted to get a taste of him. Just the thought of his warm cock in your throat caused your back to arch and a moan to slip from your lips, so in a frenzy you grabbed his jaw and pulled his mouth from your core. Cool air quickly replaced his warm tongue, and you cringed at the loss of contact. Matt looked up at you, his eyes hooded in contentment and his lips and chin coated with your arousal. “What’s wrong?” He asked, taking in your expression.

Without saying anything, you turned your body so that you were now facing the wall behind the dryer. Carefully, you lowered your torso so that you were now laying against the machine, legs bent and facing away from Matt; your view now being his frame upside down. Confused, Matt took a few steps back so that he could look at your face. You lock eyes with him, and he chuckles softly. “What are you doing?” His voice is still deeper than usual, and your view of his bulge makes it clear that he is in desperate need of you. “Want you to fuck my throat.” You replied simply, watching as his eyes darken in arousal while his eyebrows knit together in relief.

Without hesitation, Matt begins frantically removing his grey sweatpants. His cock has been achingly hard since last night with little to no relief, and your words shot straight to it. The filthy talk falling from your lips was still so foreign to him, but that unfamiliarity was addicting. He pulled his boxers down and finally freed his cock from its restraint, and even the feeling of it slapping his stomach on release was enough to make him shudder in pleasure.

As soon as your eyes fell to his exposed cock, your mouth watered. It was so perfect, so plump, you couldn’t wait to wrap your lips around it. As he took a step forward, you impatiently opened your mouth wide; not wanting to wait another second. Luckily, the feeling was mutual, and after tapping your mouth with his cock twice, he slides just the tip in. Already, the feeling of your warm mouth wrapped around him causes him to see stars, and he doesn’t even move for a few moments as you swirl your tongue around his tip. You find the bead of pre-cum dripping from his slit, and lap it up indulgently.

You want more of him, so in a desperate act you begin trying to bob your head while upside down in order to travel down his shaft. Your desperation gets to Matt, and, recognizing that you want more of him, he begins thrusting his hips slowly into your mouth. Even with only half of him in your mouth, you can feel his tip hitting the back of your throat with each thrust, and all it does is make you want more. You wrap your lips as tightly as you can around his girth, and the hushed groans that fall from his lips tell you that he’s enjoying himself.

You begin to grow frustrated, not content with the fact that you haven’t had all of him in your mouth yet. So you reach up and grab firmly on his hips, opening your throat to allow his entire length access as you pushed him forward. Matt hissed, overwhelmed by the feeling of his cock sinking deeper into your throat, and that was when he lost all control.

Matt grabbed onto the sides of your neck to brace himself before finally driving his cock all the way down your throat. He started slow, sliding it all the way down, holding it in place for a moment, and then pulling it nearly all the way out before doing it all over again; but once he realized that not only could you take all of him, but that you also enjoyed it, he started picking up the pace. He watched your throat as he fucked it, and noticed that he could actually see his cock going all the way down it; causing his vision to go blurry. “Fuck, baby.” He moaned out, his voice shaky as he struggled to not lose himself.

You were in heaven, the feeling of his cock filling your throat caused your body to flood with heat, and you couldn’t stop your hand from finding your clit and rubbing it in rhythm with Matt’s thrusts. Noticing your hand, Matt quickly swatted it away before replacing it with his own; the softness of your wet cunt enough to cause his cock to twitch; threatening to shoot his seed down your throat. But he didn’t want to cum; not until he felt all of you.

In the blink of an eye, he pulled his dripping cock out of your throat; causing you to gasp for air. Before you had the chance to question anything, he grabbed you under your arms and pulled you off of the dryer before slamming you against the wall in the hallway. The wind was knocked out of you, but Matt didn’t give you a minute to recover before lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist; keeping you pressed to the wall. His mouth found yours again, and the taste of you on his explorative tongue was enticing. With his mouth still on yours, the tip of Matt’s cock practically finds your opening itself, and it was so hard he didn’t even have to stabilize it with his hand before it slipped into you; stretching your walls and filling you up completely.

As soon as he bottomed out, he released a deep, guttural moan that echoed in your ears. Fighting a moan of your own, you grabbed the back of his neck. “Shh!” You whispered, looking into his eyes through droopy eyelashes. He snapped his cock into you. “You didn’t seem too concerned with staying quiet last night.” Matt’s words were strained as he tried to control his thrusts. Still looking at him in the eyes, a sinister smile crosses your face at him actually wanting to talk about last night for the first time.

He picked up on the reasoning behind your smile, and he snapped his hips again; causing you to yelp. “So you did want me to hear, hmm?” His head moved to the crook of your neck, and his lips against your ear caused goosebumps to raise on your skin. As he thrusted into you, all you could do was nod. “Do you know — ah fuck — do you know how bad my cock has been aching for you all day?” His words caused the pressure in your stomach to triple, and the thought of him being desperate to be inside of you caused your back to arch against the wall.

“M-made me feel like a creep all day, and for what? Hmm?” Matt grabbed your jaw and made you face him. He continued driving himself into you as he stared lustfully at your face. His thumb pressed against your bottom lip and you opened your mouth; letting his thumb fall in before wrapping your lips around it and sucking innocently. “Fuck baby,” He grumbled, watching your lips as your tongue swirled around his thumb. “Tell me.” His eyes were pleading with you, and you knew he was close, but he wasn’t gonna cum until you told him the truth. “W-wanted you to k-know what it’s l-like — fucking me. Wanted y-your cock h-hard for me.” You managed to tell him the truth. “Jesus Christ.” Matt moaned out in response, grabbing the base of your hair before slamming his cock in and out of you faster than he had before. Each time his cock hit your g-spot, your head slammed against the wall behind you; adding a new intensity to the fast-approaching orgasm you were feeling.

“Shit, gonna cum. Where do you want me?” His voice was ragged, as was his pace, and the desperation laced throughout the sloppiness drew you even closer to the edge. “As deep as you can get Matty.” You whispered in his ear just before you were overtaken by your own orgasm. As he continued to thrust into you, you felt your walls convulse around his girth. Your legs wrapped even tighter around his waist, toes curling as the waves of your orgasm crashed around you.

As you were still in the middle of cumming all over him, Matt suddenly snapped his cock hard and deep into you; spilling his seed deep in your guts, just like you asked, as a deep ragged moan fell from his mouth. Your hungry cunt milked his dick dry, and the intensity of filling you up with the nut that had been debilitating him all day was like no other orgasm he had ever experienced.

You could feel his cock twitch repeatedly as he filled your insides with his hot white cum, and his soft moans of pure relief in your ear were as continuous as your own as you both fell into a deep trance. As you both came down from your highs, Matt held you against the wall; brushing his fingertips softly against the skin on your upper thigh. You had never had sex so satisfying, so deliciously exhausting, and you were in such a haze that you could have easily fallen asleep right there, pressed against the wall.

But after a few moments, Matt carefully slid his shaft out of you and helped you to your feet. He took a moment to admire you, fixing your hair and pulling down your dress, before leading you to his washroom. “You’re a little psycho, you know that right?” He asked jokingly as he started the shower. You stood in front of the mirror, taking in your reflection; evidence of Matt’s touch all over you. You smiled at him as he helped you take off your dress. “I’m sorry.” You replied, to which he rolled his eyes. “No you’re not. But do me a favour, next time you want me to fuck you, just tell me, alright?”

Your stomach did an excited flip from his unexpected words, and you walked into the shower on shaky legs. Turning around to face him standing by the washroom door, you found him staring indulgently at your naked frame. You put your hands on your hips and huffed dramatically. “Okay, get in here. I want you to fuck me.”

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

[sashaisready]

Starting Over: Chapter 3 - Bolt

Mob!Bucky x Female Reader

Series Masterlist

When Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending.

Back again! I have split the final chapter into two parts as it makes more sense that way, you’ll see why when you read the last one – which hopefully I should be able to post later this week, or early next – I’m just working on getting it right. Warnings for angst, angst and angst in this part – sorry in advance. I felt a bit weepy writing this. I’ve been blown away by the support this story has received, especially as it was written on a bit of a whim, so thank-you for all your reblogs and comments – it means a lot!! Also shout-out to the recent Variety SebStan photoshoot - very inspirational...

💔

You were sleeping like the dead, it was a miracle that anything could’ve woken you – but the soft click of the hotel door opening must’ve cut through the void somehow, because you shot up in bed awake, disorientated and suddenly on alert. Your breathing was heavy as you adjusted to your surroundings. What…where were…?

Bucky gently closed the door behind him and rushed over to your bedside.

“Hey, hey…it’s just me, you’re okay doll. I’m sorry I startled you. I was trying to slip in quietly…” he cooed, “I thought knocking might be too jarring…stupidly…”

You blinked at him, you were just able to make out his face in the dark as recognition sunk in. His features were subtly illuminated by the parking lot lights, the room’s curtains doing little to keep that glare out. He looked tired and drained; his hair unkempt. There was a weariness in his face that you hadn’t seen before. You groggily flicked on the bedside lamp as your brain caught up with the rest of you.

For a blissful moment you’d forgotten it all, from the haze of sleep, you’d forgotten why you were here. Bucky! Bucky is here! Your safe place. You began to smile and instinctively moved towards him. He smiled too, a relieved smile, holding out a hand to you so you reached for it with your own –

Wait.

Oh.

You saw the hope in his eyes dwindle when you jerked away from him, a scowl hardening your expression as you whipped your hand back as quickly as if it had been burnt. You pulled the sheets high and tight, covering your body as if you didn’t like that any of you was visible to him.

As he tried to lean over to get closer to you, you greeted him with a blunt, hard slap across the face.

He recoiled, his hand moving to his stinging cheek as he stood up to his full height and stepped back, “fine. I deserved that…”

“What are you doing here?” you sneered, “How did you even get in?”

He tilted his head towards the door and held up a key card, “They let me in. They gave me a key”.

“Well, they shouldn’t have! They shouldn’t just give away door keys to random people…”

“They don’t, just me,” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes and turned away, “You think this is funny?”

“Doll…” he reached out to you again, but you smacked his hand away.

“No,” you growled.

“I found out the truth…I know it wasn’t you. I’m so sor-” he sounded frantic, stuttering and jumbled, worlds away from the cool and collected man you knew so well. But you were unmoved, his betrayal still stinging and raw.

“I don’t care,” you interrupted, your tone flat and cold, “it’s too late”.

“I should’ve listened to you. I’m so sorry, baby. I flew off the handle without talking to you. I should’ve trusted you…” he pleaded.

“Yes, you should’ve,” you snapped bitterly, “but you didn’t. You wouldn’t let me talk, you just shouted…then you threw me out with nothing! Like I was trash! I walked for nearly two miles alone in the dark, in the middle of the night, Bucky. Anything could’ve happened to me…” your voice wobbled slightly at the end of your sentence; you took a deep breath – refusing to let anymore tears fall for him.

He dipped his head, his gaze dropping, unable to look at you. “I know, you’re right…I keep thinking about it…I keep…”

“Save it!” you shouted, a little more emotional than you intended. “All I wanted was for you to listen to me. I don’t know anything about a recording, or my phone pinging, or whatever you were ranting about. I just can’t believe you wouldn’t believe me, after everything we’ve been through…”

He sighed heavily, then withdrew his phone from his pocket. He began to scroll through.

You scoffed, “what are you-”

And then your voice, clear as day, rang out from his phone. Bucky held it up towards you, his face pained. You listened, stunned, as you heard yourself on the recording. It was so real you almost considered that it was you, and you’d somehow forgotten that you’d actually said it.

“Just give me a bit longer and I’ll have that one-armed pussy spill everything…”

After it had finished, you furrowed your brows in confusion, your mouth hanging open.

“But that wasn’t…” you whispered.

“I know. I know that now,” he sighed, putting the phone back in his pocket. “Rumlow set it up. He put it together with cutting edge AI, some advanced tech Stark helped develop. He also planted fake footage of you on the CCTV. Took your phone to an incriminating location. But Sam caught him tonight. He’s been working with the feds to bring me down, to make room for a HYDRA revival. He knew I’d be weaker and easier to takedown if you and I fell apart, so breaking us up was a two-birds-one-stone deal”.

You blinked, bewildered, a chill running through you as you thought about the lengths someone would go to in order to break you and Bucky up. You knew a little about HYDRA, the rival syndicate that Bucky used to work for before he struck out on his own. They’d been defunct for years, or so Bucky had told you. The implication of someone being able to make your voice say anything they wanted also haunted you. Rumlow could’ve even framed you for a crime with such technology. It was…scary.

You could see why Bucky freaked out, presented with all of this incriminating evidence, but…

“Rumlow didn’t break us up, Bucky”, you said quietly as your words sharpened. “You did. You could’ve come to me first. You could’ve showed me this and we could’ve set everything straight. Instead…you went nuclear…”

He dropped his gaze again to the threadbare hotel carpet, unable to meet your eye. It was almost funny, he looked small for the first time since you’d met him. Despite his towering height and hulking frame, he almost seemed like a little boy in that moment.

“…I just can’t believe you thought I’d do something like that to you. That I’d betray you like that. That I could look you in the eye every day and lie to you and…”

He suddenly looked up, quickly snatching your hand, “I’m so sorry, doll, this is the biggest mistake I’ve ever made…I’d do anything to take it back…”

“Well you can’t!” you sniped back at him as you tore your hand away from his, tears in your eyes. “You must think so low of me that you think I’d be capable of this. And all the stuff you said about me leeching off you for your money! I’ve never been comfortable spending your cash and you know that! I can’t believe you’d throw it all back in my face…”

“Baby, I didn’t mean that. I didn’t mean of it. I was hurt…” he said, the desperation building in his voice as his eyes widened, “I was just trying to hurt you the way I thought you’d hurt me. I didn’t really think it. I never have”.

“It must’ve come from somewhere!” you spat venomously, “you didn’t pull it out of thin air…”

“I promise. I was just throwing words out and didn’t care what they were as long as they hit. I just was so mad,” he sat down on the bed and began running his hands through his hair as he closed his eyes, he always did that when he was stressed.

He sighed heavily, then turned to you, “Look”, he began – his voice soft now. “I guess part of me always thought this was too good to be true…everything happened so quickly when we met. I’d always been content with one-night stands and casual hook-ups. Then I met you, and…” he trailed off as he chewed his lip, carefully choosing what to say.

You watched him, your earlier anguish now hardened into pure rage, you wanted to kick him out – send him out into the street the way he had with you. But you also wanted to hear this. You wanted to understand what possible reasoning there could be for causing of this pain. What weak excuse he could use to try and justify his cruelty. He looked at you again. His eyes were kind, warm. But you couldn’t help but remember the coldness in them from earlier. You didn’t think you’d ever forget it.

“I guess…everything changed. I fell for you so hard. You took over my life. Invaded my thoughts, my senses. I just wanted to be with you all the time. And to my surprise…you felt the same. This sweet, wonderful woman wanted to be with me, too. I was sure you’d turn away when you found about my job…my past…my scars, my arm... Because why wouldn’t you? You were kind and decent. You saw the best in people. How the hell could you love someone like me? A killer. A monster…”

“Bucky, I…” you croaked.

“Please, just let me finish…” he pleaded, “but somehow, you did love me. And I know you moved in with me quickly, but it felt right. You had a rough start in life, and all I ever wanted to do was take care of you and fix it so you didn’t have to worry about money or paying bills or any of that ever again. I wanted you to sleep soundly, knowing I would protect you and do right by you and you wouldn’t have to sling burgers and fries to get by anymore. And part of me knew it was selfish…because you deserved better than me. You deserved the white picket fence, a dull but decent man with a boring job who comes home and tells you about whatever shit Janet in Accounting got up to that day. But no, you had me – who stole you from that peaceful future to make myself happy. I worked late and committed violent acts. I had to give you bodyguards just in case. I uprooted your entire life. I did my best to give you the love you deserve, but I couldn’t even get that right. When I heard that tape…it was like the universe telling me what I already knew - I wasn’t worthy, and the debt I owed was getting collected. I guess part of me always expected I’d inevitably screw it up, because I never deserved you in the first place. And I’m just sorry that I proved myself right”.

You sniffed back your tears, bowled over by his words. He’d never said anything like this to you before, you had no idea he held those insecurities. The silence hung heavily between you, until you finally spoke, your voice shaky.

“But I was happy slinging burgers. And I never wanted the boring guy. I never wanted the white picket fence. I wanted you, Buck. Only you. I knew who you truly were, and it didn’t matter. It never mattered. You did deserve me. You did deserve love and everything we had…until…well…this”.

He nodded sadly, taking your hand in his.

“I know that now, doll, I do. I ended up sabotaging the best thing that ever happened to me because of my own fears. And that’s on me. But look…I need to ask, do you think you could ever forgive me? I’ll do whatever it takes, I’ll go at whatever pace you want…We can just be friends and see how it goes. I’ll go to therapy to sort out my shit. Anything. I’ll never doubt you again. All I ask is that you give me one final chance to fix this. Please, doll…I’m begging you…”

You looked into his big blue eyes, glossy with his unshed tears. Your heart ached and twisted at the sight. You’d never seen him looking so vulnerable before, so lost. You loved him so very much. You would’ve taken a bullet for him if he’d asked. He was correct that the two of you had moved fast in your whirlwind romance, but it always felt like a natural progression. It had always felt right.

But something had shifted. Something monumental. And you didn’t know if it could ever be like it was. It was wrong now.

“I’m sorry Bucky, I can’t….I…” you whispered, squeezing his hand as your tears began to fall. “I want to…I just…I don’t know if I can…”

He inhaled deeply and your heart shattered as you saw the flash of anguish in his eyes. But then he took a moment, a sad but accepting smile creeping over his face. He leaned over and wiped away your tears with his thumb.

“It’s alright, doll” he told you softly. “This was my fault. I’m not gonna force it or push you to forgive if you’re not comfortable doing so, okay? Not because I don’t care or don’t want to fight for you. But because I love you, and loving someone means sometimes you have to let them go”.

You nodded as you looked up into his eyes, but the tears wouldn’t stop.

“Hey, c’mon…” he soothed.

He quickly vanished into the en-suite bathroom, returning with a small wad of toilet paper to dab at your tear-soaked cheeks. He extended a finger and gently moved it under your chin, propping your face up to look at his. The tenderness and care he showed you was what you were used to with Bucky. This was the version of him you’d always known. It almost made you forget about everything. Almost.

You both shared a small smile. A melancholic smile, a smile that you both understood meant too much had happened here tonight. Too much had changed. You can’t put the toothpaste back in the tube. Nothing was spoken, but everything was said.

It was hard to know how much time had passed, but eventually he got up and moved to the door. You didn’t stop him, and he didn’t ask you to. He ran a finger over your trusty red backpack as he passed the desk. He chuckled and picked it up, “I should’ve known this old thing was involved. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how you left with no clothes or money…but you’ve always been the most resourceful person I know.”

You smiled back at him weakly.

“It’s funny…” he mused as he caressed the straps, “you had this emergency kit already to go. Just in case…”

You shook your head, “no…it wasn’t meant to be a kit, it was just left from where I moved in with you. I didn’t-I just dumped it when I…”

“Yes…left fully packed and untouched. With clothes and cash. And debit cards, presumably. Stashed in a closet by the front door. That doesn’t strike you as a choice? A plan? Even if you weren’t fully aware of it?” he asked.

You didn’t respond as the silence laid thick between you. Incisive Bucky, as always. He could read you better than anyone on the planet. You knew he was right, he knew it too. You swallowed, looking down at the frayed thread on the bedsheet.

“You are always planning, doll. Because you always had to, with the life you’ve had. You always had to keep moving and stay one step ahead. We both know that”.

Again, he was met with your silence as you pulled at the thread. But there was no denial. You couldn’t deny the truth.

“Guess we both had our own ejector seats for this plane,” he mused as he moved the bag back to how he found it. “Looks like we had even more in common than we knew”.

He was right, again. It seemed that both of you had your anxieties and insecurities about this relationship. Both of you were maybe a little too cynical and world weary to believe in happy ever afters. His had manifested in anger, in rage…yours in being ready to flee at any time. Both of you had been on the starting line waiting for that pistol to fire.

But it had only finally imploded because of him.

He continued his slow march to the door, clearing his throat as he looked back at you.

“I meant what I said, every word. I’d do anything to get you back. I’d go at any pace, I’d take whatever you offered – in any form, as long as I’m still in your life in some way. I’d spend the rest of my days apologising if I had to. But honestly, I’d also be happy just to be your friend. Okay? So, you can call me, text me, anytime. Hell, just send me an emoji. Even if you just to talk. Even just to yell at me. I’ll always pick up, I promise”.

He pulled a business card from his wallet and placed it on the desk, “here. Put my number in your new phone when you get one”.

You stayed mute, but your eyes followed his hand as he gently put the card down.

“Will you be okay? For money, I mean?” he asked as his hand rested on the doorhandle, “because I can…”

“I’ll be fine Buck, I always am”.

“Yeah doll, I know”, he said softly.

Neither of you said goodbye. Maybe it was too hard to actually say the word out loud. Speak it into existence and accept its reality. So, he just nodded at you, and you smiled back, and you tried not to think about the tears glistening in his eyes or that painful tugging in your chest.

A few seconds later he was gone, and then it was as if he’d never been there at all.

[gothgoblinbabe]

Drunken Words, Sober Thoughts (pt.2)

Logan Howlett x afab!/fem reader

divider credit

Warnings: MDNI/18+, mostly porn w little plot, unprotected sex (wrap it up pls), afab!reader, being referred to as a girl, use of pet names, very light choking, filming sex/making a sex tape, swearing, I believe that is it but if i missed any pls lmk <3 I also didn’t proofread this one as much as I usually do so forgive me for any mistakes or inconsistencies!

Summary: [based on this ask] I don’t know what to really say for this one cause I feel like the ask explains it perfectly lol, but part 1 is here if you want to read it but this also works as a stand alone thing. I did tweak a couple of things from the ask but nothing major!

Word count: 5.5K

Since you and Logan had gotten to know each other a little better, you were over his and Wade’s apartment sometimes more than your own. He’d begun to make himself comfortable in yours too, finding himself waking up in your decorative sheets with the morning sun shining onto the pictures taped to your wall. It was a comfortable routine you’d started; waking up in each other's beds, going out to eat at some 24 hour diner when neither of you could sleep, talking with each other till the sun came up. Weekends with Wade even turned to weekends with Wade and Logan, your legs slung over your boyfriend's lap with his arm around your shoulder.

Unfortunately for him, though, you and Wade would not budge on Keeping Up With The Kardashians.

“I still don’t get it,” he grumbled next to you on the couch, quirking an eyebrow at you and his roommate, “what the hell are they famous for, anyway?”

“Well,” you began to explain, raising the remote to mute the TV, “their dad was a really famous lawyer, he defended O-”

“Nope,” Wade piped up from beside you through a mouthful of chips, “you know that’s not the real reason they’re famous, cupcake.”

You turned to narrow your eyes at him, “C’mon, you don’t mean -”

“Mhm,” he hummed, eyes flickering from you to the muted TV so he could read the subtitles without missing a beat.

“What?” Logan finally asked, clearly frustrated that neither of you would clue him in.

You sighed, rolling your eyes and laughing a bit to yourself, “Okay, so, Kim? The main sister?”

He nodded, “the one with the huge -”

“Yes, her.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay, she used to date this singer Ray J and in the early two thousands, they made a sex tape. It got leaked somehow and she kinda shot into fame and I guess her family followed,” you explained simply.

“You should show him the tape,” Wade chimed in again, taking the remote from your lap and unmuting the TV.

“Jesus, I’m not gonna do that,” you shook your head, “I don’t think he’d wanna see it.”

“You’d be right,” Logan agreed, cringing a little.

“You two should make your own, then. You can finally be famous for somethin’ else, peanut!” Wade suggested, poking at his roommate's shoulder, “plus, with a pretty girl? Man, that would blow up.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. That was seemingly the end of the discussion, except Logan couldn’t get Wade’s words to leave his brain.

You two should make your own, then.

It stuck with him to the point that he was staring at his ceiling that night, listening to your steady breathing as you slept beside him, still unable to think of anything else. It was a bad idea, wasn’t it? He couldn’t ask you to do that with him. Could he?

He couldn’t shake the image of you on the screen of some camera, your back to his chest as he fucked you from behind and you batted your pretty eyes at the lens. He’d never let another soul see it, it would be something just between the two of you - something he’d definitely keep to watch a million times over. He looked around his apartment the next day after you'd gone to work to see if maybe Wade had an old camera somewhere - one he wouldn’t miss if he never saw it again. He dug out a silver camcorder from the junk drawer in the kitchen, turning it over in his hands. It looked like one you’d find on a shelf in a radioshack - when they were still around - something you’d use to film a kid’s high school graduation in the mid two thousands. As long as it worked, it would do. He fumbled the thing open, pressing a couple buttons before the screen finally lit up and gave him the option to look through the album. There were only three things on there - a blurry picture of Wade’s shoes, an even blurrier picture of half of his face and a twelve second video of him trying to film Logan while he swatted the camera out of his hands and onto the floor.

He found a charger and hooked it up to the wall, already thinking over how exactly he was going to approach the subject with you. If he was going to be able to do what he’d been thinking about, that camera had to be charged to last for at least a couple of hours. He’d planned to stay the night at your place and figured he’d try to work up the nerve to ask then.

He found himself on your couch later that night, his thighs spread while you sat in his lap and played with his hair. He was leaving kisses down your throat, his hands on the sides of your thighs.

“Can I ask you somethin’, sweetheart?” he mumbled into your skin. He pulled his face away to look into your eyes.

“Hm?” you raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to continue.

He almost felt dirty for what he was about to ask of you - like he was perverted for even considering it when you looked at him so sweetly.

His eyes moved from your face to his jacket laying beside him and he reached into the pocket, pulling out the small camera.

“I kinda wanted to try somethin’ a little different.”

Your lips parted when you realized what he was holding, eyes flickering from the device to his face. He watched your lips curl up into a smile. You knew instantly what he was about to ask when you remembered your conversation from the night before.

“You wanna film a sex tape?”

He swallowed hard, fearful that you were about to scoff and lift yourself off him. Instead, you rested your hand over his that held the camera, “I wonder where you got that idea.”

You took it from his hand, flipping it open and turning it on. You held it up and hit record, smirking when he rolled his eyes at you.

“I didn’t say I wanted my face all in it,” he scoffed, a smile tugging at his lips.

“What, you think I’m gonna let you only film me?” you pulled the camera from your face, quirking an eyebrow at him, “uh-uh, babe. If this is gonna be our sex tape, I want you in it.”

He huffed, glaring at you through the lens.

“Besides,” you continued, “you’re acting like you're the only one who's gonna like it.”

“So, you’re not upset that I asked?”

You shook your head, “Upset that a hot guy asked to film himself screwing my brains out? Hell no.”

He gnawed at his bottom lip and watched you fiddle with the camera, clicking through settings and trying out filters. Screw your brains out, huh? He could do that. He wouldn't admit it even if you asked, but he was turned on beyond belief from the idea that you’d watch it when he wasn’t with you - he liked the idea of putting on a performance for you, giving you what you want so you’d stuff the little vibrator you kept in the drawer of your nightstand inside your aching pussy when you watched it back, your eyes trained on his face and remembering how good he’d made you feel.

“It’s kind of an older camera,” Logan began, his hands wrapping around the back of your thighs, “maybe we should test it out, see if it works?”

“Oh, should we?”

He stood up in seconds, his strong arms holding you up by your thighs as he carried you to your room. You giggled, your arms wrapped around the back of his neck. You held the camera up to film yourself. Your face was in frame, Logan only visible by the back of his head as you stretched your arm out.

“This is my very sexy boyfriend, taking me to bed,” you narrated, kissing the side of his face.

“Shut up,” he grumbled, burying his face in your neck as he nudged your door open with his foot. He dropped you onto the bed and you kept the camera trained on him as he crawled over you.

“You’re gonna keep that damn thing on my face the whole time?” 

He leaned over you with his hands on either side of your head, his bulging muscles even more prominent from your angle underneath him. His tongue stuck out the corner of his mouth, licking over his lips. You wouldn’t mind if the whole video was just from this angle.

“You look fucking hot.”

He was a little taken back by your compliment. Even after months of sleeping together, he still wasn’t used to the praise, dismissing you with a scoff or simply hiding his red face.

“Look who’s talkin’.”

Logan snatched the camera from your hands in one quick swipe, sitting back on his heels so he could get all of you in frame. You sat up, tugging your shirt over your head and tossing it somewhere off the bed, leaving you in your bra and jeans. You looked angelic underneath him with your hair spread around your head like a halo, your chest heaving in excitement. You bit your lip and grabbed the end of his shirt to pull him closer to you, lidded eyes staring up at him.

“Fuck.”

He groaned, letting you pull him down and slip your tongue into his mouth. He haphazardly placed the camera on your bedside table, glancing at it momentarily to make sure it was on before diving back onto you.

His hands slid up your back and under the band of your bra. He unhooked the clasp and pushed the straps down your shoulders, pulling the garment from your chest and licking his lips in awe. It didn’t matter how often he saw you naked; each time was like the first.

His mouth latched onto your chest almost immediately, swirling his tongue and sucking in a way that elicited a moan from your lips. Your back arched and he hooked his arm around your waist to pull you as close as possible. He was sucking dark marks into your soft skin, leaving each one shiny with his saliva. If there was one thing you were sure of with Logan, it was that he really loved being messy when he toyed with you.

He dragged his lips from your chest down your waistband, leaving tender kisses on your stomach and sides. Over time, he’d slowly gotten more affectionate - more loving and emotional - during sex. He always showed it the best he could, but he was clearly becoming more comfortable being vulnerable with you. He still had his animalistic and rough ways about him, but now it was combined with soft kisses to your nose and forehead, mumbled praises into your mouth and declarations of love while you panted from the pace of his thrusts. 

Logan stopped at the waistband of your jeans, his fingers popping the metal button with little hesitation. You wordlessly lifted your hips for him to drag them down your thighs, leaving you only in your panties. He leaned over to grab the camera from the table, leaning back a bit to get you in frame.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he huffed, his free hand immediately sliding between your thighs to graze his fingers against the damp fabric, “all for me?”

You nodded, hooded eyes and parted lips posing for the camera, “yours, all yours.”

Logan was chewing on his bottom lip while he admired you from behind the camera. He knew without a doubt that you were the prettiest girl he’d ever been with; none of those dirty magazines or tapes he’d seen over the years could even compare to what was in front of him now. You were positively heavenly, a type of beauty so alluring that it bordered being otherworldly. 

He finally used his free hand to remove your panties when you lifted your hips, set on recording as much as he could from the perspective he had because fuck, it was a good one.

Laying in front of him - completely bare - with the camera focused on you made you feel vulnerable and a little shy and Logan was always able to read you.

He wanted to focus on you even more, but he instead handed the device over to you when he sensed your mild discomfort, the lens facing him.

“Here,” was all he said, letting you bring the camera up to your eye before he tugged his t-shirt over his head. He knew you clearly enjoyed filming him and even if he didn’t love the idea of being the object of attention, he wanted you to be comfortable and he’d sacrifice his own comfort for you any day. So, once he was shirtless, he stood off the bed in front of you to strip himself of his jeans and boxers, letting his hard cock spring up to hit his stomach when he took off the latter.

You had - fortunately for you - figured out the zoom option on the camera and used it to perfectly frame his leaking cock as the only thing in the shot, bobbing when he moved towards you to take the device back. When he did, he set it on the table next to the bed, messing with the same zoom option so that the shot was of you sitting up with your legs spread and your cunt aching to be touched.

Settling himself on his stomach between your legs, he hiked your thighs onto his shoulder, his mouth inches from your heat.

“Do me a favor, sweetheart,” he began and you nodded, ready to agree to anything he asked of you, “be as loud as you can, yeah? Wanna be able to hear ya’ on tape.”

He instantly delved his tongue into you, making you gasp. You tenderly rested your hands on his arms that were hooked around your thighs as if you were encouraging him to stay there.

He ate you every time like he was starving, his cheeks and chin always slick with saliva and sap from between your legs when he finally pulled himself off you.

You did as he instructed - though, you were probably going to do it anyway - moaning openly as he licked stripes up your dripping cunt so he could circle his tongue around your clit. 

“Oh my god,” you whined, your thighs clamping around his head out of instinct. He let you thread your fingers through his hair, tugging at the dark strands to help angle his head and making him growl with his mouth still suctioned to you.

You felt around beside you for the camera, fumbling with it till you had the lens angled at him in between your legs.

“Fuck, L-Logan,” you panted, lovingly caressing his temple with your free hand.

“Mhm,” he hummed into you, the vibration pulling a whimper from your throat, “you like holding that thing, huh?”

Your eyes were glued to his through the small screen.

“You’re so fucking hot, of course I do,” you sighed, your lips parted and chest heaving.

He scoffed in amusement, continuing to slip his tongue between your folds and prod at your entrance. With his face still buried in you and his eyes closed in concentration, he took the camera from you and set it back on the table. He used his arms around your thighs to yank you further down the bed so you were flat on your back. You watched in awe as he spat a mouthful of saliva right onto your already soaked pussy, using his fingers to swipe his spit all over you. Latching his lips back onto your clit, he easily slipped two of his digits into you, feverishly pumping in and out. Your moans grew louder with each thrust of his fingers, echoing off your walls along with the wet noises that came from your soaked cunt. 

“You’re such a good girl for me, lettin’ me eat your pretty pussy,” he rambled, voice muffled by your thighs, “always so fuckin’ good.”

You inhaled sharply when he gently rolled your clit between his teeth, licking after like a balm to soothe the searing sensation. You thought you couldn’t moan any louder until he replaced his fingers inside you with his tongue, angling his mouth in a way that made his nose nudge your bundle of nerves.

“Only good for you,” you managed to choke out, turning your head to the side to bury it in your pillow, “only for you.”

His hand slid up to grope your chest, pinching your nipple between his fingers. He slid it up even further to grab your chin and turn your head so you were forced to look at him. 

“Eyes on me, baby,” he grumbled.

“Ah - uh-huh,” you tried to make some noise of agreement but were overwhelmed with how he was expertly tracing your cunt with his tongue.

Until he detached his mouth from you completely.

You groaned in frustration and knitted your eyebrows, silently asking why he stopped.

“Use your words or I’ll stop. Ya’ got it?”

His stern voice sent shivers down your spine. 

“Yes, baby, please -“

His tongue was already back in between your folds by the time you said yes. He kept his vice like grip around your thighs, deciding he’d be content if he died right there with his head between your legs.

“Love when you - when you - fuck - eat me out,” you panted, “you make me feel so good.”

You knew how much he secretly loved the praise, catching the way he ground his hips into the mattress to find some sort of relief whenever you told him he was doing a good job, that he was so handsome, that you loved what he was doing to you. He was usually the dominant one in the relationship, whispering praises in your ear while you were underneath him, but you knew him well enough by now to have figured out that he loved when you did it back.

“You’re perfect, Logan, I - ah - I love you,” you gasped when his fingers pumped back into you.

It wasn’t all about sex with you two - though it was a wonderful part of your relationship - and yet he’d discovered that he’d never felt more loved than he had when he was with you, declaring your love for him while he completely devoted himself to you with his face in your pussy. 

“I love you, too, pretty girl,” he grunted, “love fuckin’ you with my mouth.”

His filthy words fueled the fire building in your lower stomach and you tugged at his hair in an attempt to warn him.

“ ‘m gonna come,” you slurred, ankles locked on Logan’s back to keep him in place.

“Come for me, beautiful, c’mon,” he coaxed while his fingers abused the spot inside of you that made you whimper to encourage him to keep going, “want it all, want you to come on my face.”

That was definitely what sent you over the edge, mumbling unintelligible praises as he lapped up anything that had spilled out of you and onto his tongue. 

“Tastes so damn good,” he heaved, his fingers still working at a consistent pace, “I think I can pull another one outta you.”

You felt tears beginning to form in your eyes from the overstimulation, crying out when he grazed your swollen clit with his teeth.

“ ‘s too - too much,” you tried to pull his head away by tugging his hair, to no avail. 

He’d let you go, but not without one more taste of you.

It only took a couple more flicks of his tongue to have you arching your back, tears rolling down the sides of your face as you gushed around his fingers for a second time.

When he finally slipped his fingers out of you and he’d left the comfortable spot between your warm thighs, you could see that his entire lower face was almost completely slick with a mix of his spit and your cum. He was licking his lips, trying to savor the taste of you but making no attempt to wipe anything off his chin or cheeks. He was in love with you but he was also in love with the reality that he got to do this to you, that he got to taste every bit, that you wanted him to. You sat up to give him a desperate kiss - a clash of tongues and teeth that tasted entirely of you. You finally pulled away to admire his face.

Seeing him with his hair disheveled from your repeated tugging, his lips near swollen and raw and his cheeks still shining made you crave the idea of returning the favor. 

“Sit on the edge of the bed, baby.”

Though he was usually the one giving orders instead of following them, he obliged anyway. His cock was still leaking in anticipation, hard against his stomach. When you got down on your knees in front of him, he couldn’t hide the excited smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He never expected you to return the favor when he used his mouth on you - content with that being a reward itself - but when you did? You usually left him shaking.

You took the camera from the table and handed it up to Logan, eager eyes following the lens.

“Can I suck your cock? Please?”

You knew he loved it when you begged and you always used it to get him exactly where you wanted him, especially when you looked up at him with those pleading eyes.

“Go ahead, baby,” he used his free hand to loosely hold your hair back in his fist, “I know you like havin’ it in your mouth, huh?”

You nodded eagerly, your hand wrapping around the base of his shaft. You hovered your mouth over his tip, letting a glob of spit drip from your lips so you could coat his cock in it before you tried to take him in your throat. You’d done it before, but he was huge and every time you tried to prep to make it easier. Your jaw even became sore sometimes from how wide you’d have to keep your mouth open. You never complained, though, because the mere idea of having the weight of Logan’s heavy cock in your mouth was enough to make you drool.

You spread your saliva up and down, leaning forward and dragging his tip across your parted lips while staring up at the lens of the camera.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, focused on you through the small screen, “such a fucking tease.”

You grinned, placing a light kiss on his tip before engulfing him into your mouth, tongue sliding along his slit to taste the small amount of precum that’d dripped from him when he first sat up. You suctioned and began to work up a pace, taking him as far as you could into your mouth while your hand stroked the rest of him.

“I love giving you head,” you admitted in the most sultry way possible when you popped your lips off his tip, long lashes batting up at him. It wasn’t a lie, either, and that was clear by how sloppy you loved to be whenever it was your turn to be on your knees. If you had at least one thing in common, it was that you wanted to worship each other as much as possible. You wanted to leave him in a state of euphoria the same way he did you, just as messily dedicated to making sure he came.

“Yeah? I can tell, sweetheart,” he still held the camera but his eyes were trained on your face, “such a good girl, sucking my cock like you were made for it.”

You tried to push him further into your throat, eager to see his thighs shake and hear him groan your name. You gagged on his tip and he inadvertently rolled his hips. You hummed, eyes starting to water every time you choked on his dick. You used your free hand to cup his balls and smeared your saliva down from the base of his cock to coat them. You pulled yourself off his mouth momentarily to spit on him again, licking your lips in excitement.

“Fuck’s sake,” he grunted, camera abandoned on the side of the bed so he could place both his hands on the back of your head, “doin’ so fucking good, princess.”

You continued to stroke him with one hand and massage his balls in the other, your tongue still swirling and sucking around him. You popped off him with a smile, spit covering your lips and chin while your hands continued their motion.

Logan leaned back on his elbows and held the camera up again with one hand. When you wrapped your lips around his cock again, he started to roll his hips at a steady pace so he could fuck your throat, grunting every time you gagged around him. 

You picked up your pace, stroking his base while your head bobbed up and down in synch with your hand.

“Atta girl,” he panted, “jus’ like that.”

You could tell he was already close because he was sloppily rocking his hips up into your mouth, his thighs beginning to shake every time he hit the back of your throat. He sat up suddenly, grabbing your hair again to slowly pull you off his cock.

“On the bed, hands and knees,” he instructed simply, letting you scramble onto the mattress as he set up the camera on the end of your bed. You understood almost instantly what he wanted, biting back a smile as you laid your chest flat on the mattress, back arched with your ass in the air. 

He climbed behind you and placed his knees on the inside of yours to push your legs apart even further. His large hands gripped your hips and he pulled you against him, his hard cock prodding your entrance. He leaned his body over yours so that your back was flush with his chest.

“I’m gonna fuck this pretty pussy like you deserve,” he muttered into your ear, intoxicating you with the feeling of his hot breath fanning the side of your face, “think you can take it, sweetheart?”

You nodded eagerly and gasped when he dragged the tip of his cock along the folds of your dripping cunt.

“Can take it - I want it so bad, Logan,” you pleaded, pushing back into him. Your eyes bore into the camera, lips parted. It was his idea for a sex tape after all, you might as well be sure to give him a show.

He sheathed himself into you completely in one thrust with an iron grip on your hips, the weight of him pushing into you almost knocking the wind out of your lungs. He began to slowly inch himself out and slam back in again, pulling out a little further each time. He was grunting into the back of your neck while he rocked his hips. 

“Takin’ it so good, baby,” he panted, one of his hands moving to your neck and barely applying pressure while the other held his upper body above yours. His lips came to the side of your face and left a kiss so sweet that it could’ve rotted your teeth.

You whimpered when he worked up to a steady pace and reveled in the sensation of him filling you completely. Your fingers gripped the sheets, desperate for something to hold onto so you could stable yourself when his hard thrusts nearly knocked you over completely.

“S-so fucking - ah - so good,” you slurred your words with your eyes squeezed shut. You were slack jawed, nearly drooling.

“Yeah? Can tell you like it,” he huffed, “you’re so pretty, takin’ all of me like a good girl.”

You nodded frantically, whimpering every time he slammed into you.

“You like bein’ on camera, don’t you?” he continued, “you’re really fucking wet.”

You could only moan in response. You were soaking around him, drenching the base of his cock and the happy trail that went up to his stomach. He leaned back on his knees and his pace never faltered. 

Your hands outstretched in front of you and you grabbed the camera. You angled it over your shoulder and focused the lens on his face, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

He scoffed when he noticed the camera over your shoulder, keeping his rhythm while his eyes were glued to the lens. If he thought too hard about what you might do with the video later, he wasn’t going to last much longer. 

“Feels good, baby?” you panted, an amused smile creeping onto your face.

He was always the one to talk to you like that - pet names and filthy encouragement - but you wanted to get his face on film when you teased him back - or, at least tried to. 

His expression mirrored yours and he grabbed the camera while his other hand kept an iron grip on your hip.

“I think you like holdin’ that thing a little too much,” he brought it up to his face and squinted at you through the screen.

“Mm,” you hummed, your face flushed and body sticky with sweat, “can’t help it.”

“You look fuckin’ gorgeous like this, you know that? God,” he sighed, “can’t get enough of you.”

You would’ve found his words endearing if you could even process them. The intoxicating feeling every time he pushed back into you was enough to render you speechless.

Logan angled the camera down to film the repeated motion, gaping at the mess you left around the base of him every time he pulled back.

“My dirty girl,” he cooed, “you like makin’ a mess on my cock?”

“F-Fuck - yes, yes,” you sobbed before he even finished his sentence. You could feel the pressure building in your stomach, bringing you closer to finishing.

“C’mon, sweetheart, I can feel you gettin’ tighter. Come for me, baby,” he grunted, his hand sliding from your hip to grip your ass.

It only took a few more strokes for you to do exactly that with your legs shaking underneath you. 

“ ‘Atta girl,” he growled. He watched you gush around him, zooming in on your dripping pussy as he stretched you out over and over again. You were chanting his name, muttering unintelligible praises against your sheets.

It wasn’t long before he followed suit, his pace becoming sloppy as he spilled into you and let it drip down your thighs. He clicked off the camera and tossed it somewhere else onto the bed. 

“C’mere,” he huffed, pulling you up to lean back against him, “love you so much.” He was leaving saccharine kisses from your ear down to your shoulder, still panting.

“I love you, too,” you managed to say with your eyes already half closed. He pulled out and laid you on your side, grabbing some t-shirt that had been next to the bed to clean you up. He wrapped you in his arms from behind and pulled up the comforter to cover you both.

“Can’t wait to watch that back,” he mumbled into your neck.

“Mhm,” you were already drifting off to sleep while he stroked your hair, “me neither.”

Logan fell asleep right after you with his arms still around you and his legs tangled in yours.

—-----------------------------------

Later that same week, you sat on the couch beside Logan in his apartment, flipping through TV channels on a lazy day off. Wade emerged from his bedroom and began frantically tearing apart the kitchen.

“What are you looking for?” you called, turning in your seat.

“My old camera. Have you seen it?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

You thought you hadn’t, at least. You had know idea the camera Logan brought over was Wade’s.

He was pretending to be uninterested in the conversation, hoping his apathy towards the question would absolve him of any suspicion.

You shrugged and returned your attention to the TV. You heard a couple doors open and close before Wade’s voice echoed through the apartment.

“Found it!”

Logan went wide eyed and immediately stood up from the couch. 

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and looked between him and Wade when he came back into the living room.

And then you recognized the camera in his hands.

“Don’t open it, I’ll buy you a new one,” Logan insisted simply, holding out his hand.

“Oh, my god,” you muttered.

Wade's eyes flickered between you both.

“There’s something on here I’m not supposed to see, isn’t there?”

Logan immediately lunged for the camera and Wade sprinted into his bedroom, slamming his door shut and locking it. Logan pounded his fist on the door and tugged the doorknob.

“Open the door, you son of a bitch!”

You buried your face into the fabric of the couch cushion, anticipating the embarrassment of Wade seeing what was still on that camera.

He opened the door after a minute, giant smile plastered on his face.

“Here you go,” he said in a sing song voice as he handed it over.

You sighed in relief, assuming he’d decided to actually abide by your requests. He closed his bedroom door, only speaking again after you heard the lock click.

“Hey, by the way - can i get a copy?”

A/N: I struggled a lil bit w this one just bc of writers block but I hope it lived up to expectations <3 pls interact if you enjoyed!

[turtlecleric]

Future Leo aka Leon time babeyyyy; NSFW with juuust a splash of angst.... juuuuuust a smidge... don't worry about it. :)

I think this is technically a part two but you don't necessarily have to read part one to know what's going on. Part one!

CWs (spoilers, as always): misunderstanding, dub con? Ummmm bad ending??

-

Leon had thought it would be… better, somehow, once his younger self finally made a move. He'd thought that it would be enough, that he would be satisfied, knowing you were happy.

He was wrong.

His room is far too close to Leo's. He can hear every pretty little noise you make in the middle of the night when everyone else is asleep, and it drives him crazy.

He can't help comparing what he hears to what he remembers. He knows Leo is young. Inexperienced. But- but Leon could do so much better. He's always been insatiable, but listening to you moan down the hall, and remembering the way he used to make your legs shake, and imagining the way your eyes might roll back as you come on his cock - if you'd just let him show you how much better he could be - it has him dropping into his hand almost every night.

He knows it's just a fantasy, imagining himself with you again. You're with Leo, not him - and that's the way it should be. He didn't come back to the past to get a second chance with you or to take happiness away from his younger self. He came to help stop the invasion, and that's exactly what he did. This is his happy ending. He shouldn't wish for more.

And yet-

Leon breathes in slowly. Deeply. The air is thick with the scent of alcohol and strawberry flavoring. A few untouched jello shots still sit on the little table in front of the couch, but there are far more empty shots littering the living room. He shouldn't be staring, but with everyone passed out, he can't find a good enough reason to stop himself.

You're leaning on the arm of the couch, with your head tilted at an odd angle. That's going to give you a hell of a crick if you stay like that. Sleeping half-sitting up can't be comfortable. And you're still dressed in those clothes… they don't look comfortable, either. Much too tight. Not breathable. He has lots of big shirts he could loan you. Soft ones that would probably fit you like nightgowns.

His chest feels tight, but there's no time to think about what that means. You're not comfortable, and he can fix it. There's only one right answer here.

You melt into him when he picks you up, and a little sigh flows out of you. He knows you're practically catatonic, but the way you nuzzle your head against his plastron, like this is where you belong - it makes that tight feeling in his chest twist into something piercing and heavy.

He ignores it. Carries you to Leo's room and carefully lays you on the bed. After a quick trip to his own subway car, Leon returns with a plain blue t-shirt and hovers for a moment, rubbing the fabric between his fingers and watching you sleep as he considers his options.

He knows you'd like wearing it. It’s that texture that you love - all of his shirts are - but he doesn't want to disturb your rest, either. He sighs, sitting on the edge of the bed, and whispers your name. You don't respond, and your eyes stay closed. He says your name a little louder, but it isn't until he brushes his knuckles across your cheek that a raspy hum eases out of you.

“You wanna change into something more comfortable?” he murmurs, his knuckles sweeping feather-light over the skin just beneath your lashes.

You take a deep breath, whining in the back of your throat on the exhale as your face scrunches up in a pout. It's so cute, and it's so you, and the piercing feeling stabs a little deeper. He has to swallow down the affection that bubbles up in his chest.

“Come on, you'll feel better once you've changed.” He takes your hand and holds the shirt against it. “See?”

Your fingers close around the shirt, your face relaxing at the texture. You mumble something incoherent in response, and Leon chuckles and pats your arm.

“I know. Now get dressed.”

A grumpy sound slips out of your throat, but you do start to move your hands, so Leon nods to himself and stands. He'll check on you later, he thinks, to make sure you actually changed and didn't fall asleep as soon as he left.

“Wait,” you croak, and he pauses, turning back to see your shorts pulled low on your hips. His eyes go a little wide, seeing the lacy blue underwear that peeks out from the top.

“Can't-” a frustrated huff “-will you help?”

Will he help? That's- that is- not appropriate for him to-

“Please?”

Fuck. Fuck.

Leon swallows, hesitating near the doorway and staring between the peek of blue and your pleading face. He should leave.

But your eyes are open. You see that it's him. If you're okay with it… honestly, you asked him to help you. Right?

…Right.

He turns. Walks back to the bed. Hovers, standing over you and watching as you try and fail to pull your shorts down. He feels his heart hammering against his plastron, banging against it like it's trying to escape. He wonders if it's trying to get closer to you or farther away.

He really, really can't tell.

His hands move the next time you whine in frustration. Shaky fingers unbutton the shorts and grip the sides before pulling them down, and fuck fuck fuck. Your scent intensifies and hits him like a punch to the jaw. He wants to-

You're trusting him here. It's not your fault that he's… feeling like this. You need help, that's all. And he's here to help you.

That's all.

You move suddenly, pulling the bottom of your shirt up, and the moment he sees your matching blue bra he forgets how to breathe. You try to shimmy out of your shirt, but you're too uncoordinated and it gets stuck on your head. For a long moment, he's frozen. Watching your body squirm weakly and your chest rise and fall and your skin glow under the soft blue LED lights of the room.

You say something else that he doesn't understand. He's still not breathing when he reaches down to help you pull the shirt all the way off. It's stupidly easy to do, which reminds him that you are so very drunk right now.

Okay. Okay. Focus.

Leon reaches for his shirt, maneuvering it in his hands so that it'll be easier to pull over your head, but then you start to arch your back and reach behind you and- you're taking your bra off.

He drops the shirt, his hands flying forward to press down on your arms so you don't have the room to keep going. “What are you doing?!”

“Can't sleep with…” You blink, squinting at him like he's the one doing something strange. “Uncomfy.”

He stares down at you, incredulous, his mouth hanging open. You arch again, trying to undo the clasps, and he yanks his hands back and turns away. Jesus Christ. You're way too comfortable with him right n-

“Hey.”

Stupidly, so, so stupidly, he turns to look at you. Your chest is bare, and you're reaching for him.

You're reaching for him.

How could you not get your shirt off by yourself but somehow manage to get your bra off?

Focus. Focus. Breathe. Actually, don't breathe, that makes it worse. Get the shirt. Where the fuck is the shirt? He dropped it. Okay, just pick up the shirt and-

“C'mere,” you murmur, your hands brushing against him as he bends down. It's like an electric shock when you touch him, and he can't help but move where you want him to, like his soul is on a leash that only you can tug on. Your hands cup his face, pulling him closer, and god, you smell so good, and you're so beautiful, and your lips are so soft. You taste just like he remembers, here. He lets you pull him even closer, the room blurring around him as he climbs on top of you.

This is- he shouldn't-

You make a soft sound against his lips. His hands grip your sides, sliding up and down. Another soft sound, and it’s like a balm to the ache in his chest. It sounds like everything he's wanted for years, everything he's wanted since you-

You bite his bottom lip, gently pulling it with your teeth. Your eyes are closed, but he can still see the mischief that used to dance in them. You kiss him again, and again, and he lets you. Over and over and over, he lets you, and he kisses you back, and he ignores the alarm bells in his head.

“Take care of me?” you whisper, and how could he say no? How could he do anything but what you've asked him to do? He would do anything for you. Anything at all, if you asked.

“Of course, pretty thing.” The nickname slips out without his permission, but you smile when he says it, so that must mean it's okay. He kisses you again, slow and languid, and churrs when you sigh happily.

You asked, he reminds himself, shoving the alarm bells away. You asked.

He uses his metal arm to hold himself up and pulls back, watching you. Your eyes are barely open, but they flutter all the way closed when he uses his flesh arm to cup your breast, rubbing his thumb across your nipple.

There it is. That pretty little sound he's been hearing late at night. A breathy, high-pitched thing that he only wants to hear more of. Leon leans down, taking your other nipple between his lips and sucking gently. After a few moments, your legs come up, settling on either side of him, and he shifts down to press his nose to your panties.

“Smell so fucking good,” he groans, licking the fabric that covers you. It's unreal how good you smell, and when he pulls your panties to the side and licks another stripe, the broken “please” that comes out of you removes all conscious thought from his brain.

You taste so good. Make such pretty sounds. Grind against his face just like he remembers. His tongue slides inside of you easily, and it's far too soon before you start babbling like you always do when you're close.

He drops the moment you come, but he needs you to come again. Needs it. He pulls back just long enough to remove your panties, then loses all sense of time, loses himself in your scent and your taste until you come a second time. Only then does he finally pull his own pants down and line himself up.

You take his cock all at once, despite his size, and an involuntary growl vibrates in his chest when he's fully seated inside you. You feel so fucking good, just like always, always so good for him. Taking him like you were made for it. Wet and tight and warm, making those breathy little whines, and fuck, fuck, he missed you. He missed you so much.

He presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing in quick little circles while he fucks you into the mattress. He can't make himself slow down, but you're taking it so well, so well, just like always. There's nothing but you and him and this, nothing but the way you feel around him and the fireworks exploding in his mind. You're so fucking perfect, in every way, and you're everywhere and everything, and he can't-

Somehow he manages to hold out until you come again, but the moment you do he's spilling inside you, trying to press even deeper. Gripping your hips like you'll disappear if he lets go. Kissing you again and again, like he can only breathe if his mouth is against yours.

Slowly, his brain puts itself back in his skull. Breathing hard, pressing his forehead to yours, he waits until his cock fully retracts on its own before he pulls away from you. Your skin is flushed, a dreamy expression on your face. He leans down and kisses your nose, and the content hum you make is almost enough to keep the rapidly approaching wall of guilt from crushing him.

He… shouldn't have done this. You shouldn't have done this. What about L-

“Oh my god,” you whisper, your words slurring and raspy. “That was… incredible.”

You sound almost surprised, but more importantly you sound exhausted. He sighs, forcing his thoughts away and pressing another kiss to your forehead, then looks around the room. It's less than a minute before he finds Leo's stash and starts to clean you up. You've gone boneless on the bed, and you let him clean you without protest, let him slip his shirt over your head and pull your panties back on. Once that's done and he gets you under the covers, you look like you're on the very edge of sleep.

He kisses your forehead once more. Then again, just because he finally can. They'll need to talk about things in the morning, when everyone is fully awake and sober, but for now you just need-

“Thanks,” you say, so soft and quiet that he almost misses it. “Love you, Leo.”

Leon freezes. His blood turns to ice, waves of growing horror rushing through his veins as he processes what you just said.

Leo. Leo.

You thought he was-

He staggers away from the bed, watching you fall into an easy sleep with wide eyes.

No. No, no, no, no, no. He thought you- he thought-

No.

-

Tag list: @yorshie @khayalli @thejudiciousneurotic @justalotoffanfiction @luckycharms1701 @mxalmighty @shakeyourtrees @silverwatergalaxy @thelaundrybitch

[baensz]

You know. . . I used to be a normal, semi normal, Kinda normal human being. . .Then ‘Deadpool & Wolverine’ came out. . . And a pet play kink came with it! So enjoy my Poolverine/Deadclaws brainrot. (NONE OF THIS IS EDITED, SORRY FOR MISSPELLINGS OR SENTENCES THAT DON’T MAKE SENSE!)

Good boy

Rating: 17+

Warnings: Pet play, Swearing, Mild Sexual content. (Don’t like, don’t read)

Background: Logan has the ears and tail of a Wolverine. Wade and Logan are an established relationship. Logan and Wade live in an apartment together. They’ve been a thing for about a year. I think that it, enjoy!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Nights were never good for Logan, they hadn’t been ‘good’ in years. It’s not easy for one to go through as much as he has and sleep peacefully at night. . . How could you? Knowing the people you’ve hurt, the future’s you stole, were never coming back.

Those thoughts are exactly what Logan’s night terrors emulated. It always started off the same way. . .

He’s at Xavier’s school for the gifted, with his fellow X-men, all together in the kitchen. They are all laughing having a good time, Logan is taking in everything silently before he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns to find a concerned Scott.

“What’s wrong, lo?’ He asks, placing his hand on the small of the older’s back, just above his tail.

“Nothing, just enjoying the atmosphere.” Logan replied, with a small smile.

“Are you sure? Are you sure you aren’t feeling guilty?” Scott tilted his head.

“Guilty? Why would I-“ before Logan to comprehend the question he felt a pressure against his tailbone. The pressure turned into a sharp pain as he realized that he had been stabbed. “UGhh!”

Logan’s legs gave away as he crashed to the floor, scrambling to look towards the culprit of his temporary paralysis. Logan’s eyes widen, Scott is standing above him, welding a sharp pare of blackened claws, while the rest of the X-men gather around Logan’s body.

“You should be guilty for leaving us to die!” Scott shouted. . . But it didn’t sound like the man he knew anymore. This voice was breaking, becoming more disoriented by the second. Logan’s stared in horror as the bodies of his family shifted into contorted and mutilated into the corpse’s that he had left behind.

“N-no. I, I d-didn’t mean too!” Logan pleaded as he watched the blood pour from the animated corpse’s, dancing around his body. Why wasn’t he healing? And why weren’t his claws working?

“it’s all your fault, Logan. IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT!” The voices screamed in unison, clawing towards the man, tearing at his flesh while their cries of agony ring throughout the walls-

Logan shoots up from bed, claws extended and slashing through the air violently. He was drenched in sweat, his sensitive ears were still ringing from the pained cries, pinned back flat as he panted heavily.

The older blinked a few times before stilling his arms. His senses were starting to come back to him. He wasn’t on the floor of the X-Men mansion, being attacked by disfigured versions of his friends. . , he was in his bedroom, the one he shared with— Oh fuck! Wade!

Logan was quick to retract his claws as he turned to his partner’s bedside, expecting to find Wade. (Hopefully not wound.) His body tensed when he saw the empty spot.

The Wolverine jumped out of bed before his mind had time to even register he was awake, sprinting for the closed bedroom door. He didn’t care about anything other than finding Wade and making sure he was safe.

Logan swung the door open, rushing out as his claws shot out of his chuckles for a second time. He was prepared for anything. . . What he wasn’t prepared for was Wade’s confused over the shoulder glance from the stovetop in the kitchen.

“You alright, peanut?” Wade puzzled, clicking the burners heat off, before turning his attention to the clearly paranoid man. Wade was wearing his stupid ‘kiss the cook’ apron over top of his Hello Kitty pj shirt, that matched his pants. Logan examined him quickly before determining that Wade was not injured nor in danger.

“Yeah, sorry…” Logan grumbled, retracting his claws before making his way into the small kitchen. He met Wade half way, sliding his arms around the younger’s thin waist, pulling him closely as Logan captures their lips in a deep kiss.

Wade smiled into the kiss, he gently separated the two as he chuckled softly. “I’m not gonna say I’m not enjoying this, because I am, but you’re never this affectionate in the mornings. What’s got you so worked up, peanut?”

“It’s nothing, bub.” Logan grumbles. Wade tilts his head, giving the other that annoying all knowing look.

“Another nightmare?” The younger pressed softly, caressing his hand on the older’s face, smoothing out his wild facial hair. Logan’s eyes drifted from Wade’s as he nodded pitifully at the floor.

“What was it about them?” Wade ventured further. All his partner did was nod, that’s all Logan felt he could do. He wasn’t good with words, he never was.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Logan thought about it. Was there? Could he take away the nightmares? Change the past? fix everything that kept Logan from having a peaceful sleep? As far as he knew, Wade couldn’t do anything of those things, so, he simply shook his head and stepped away from his partner, moving his arms back to his side.

“Well, do you think you could help me? Maybe it’ll get your mind off it.” Wade offered, his smiled was wild and wide, yet comforting. That was a good idea. Whether Logan would ever admit that to Wade was a long shot but he could do something simple, it’s only fair.

“Yeah, what do you need?” The older asked, the two round ears on his head perking up with anticipation. Wade chuckled behind his hand as he pointed towards the cupboard above the fridge. “Can you grab the bread for me, pretty please.”

The Wolverine nodded, setting off to complete his given task, while The Deadpool turned his attention back over to the eggs in the pan. Taking the shaker out of its holder, Wade season’s the yokes, giving them a generous amount of pepper and salt. By the time he’s done, Logan is standing by his side, hand extended towards him, waiting patiently for Wade to take the loaf of bread in the bag.

The younger chuckled as he took it from the other, only to place it on the counter.

“Good boy.” Wade joked, expecting the usual reaction, an angry groan along with a tired roll of the eyes. What he wasn’t expecting was the sound of a delicate thumping against the cupboard as Logan’s face flushed a soft shade of pink.

Wade wasted no time in search for the source of the sound. . . The mercenary felt his jaw drop as his eyes fell upon the sight. Logan’s tail was wagging!!

“No, fucking, way. You like that, don’t you Wolvie?” He pressed, a mix of amusement and disbelief lingering in his tone as he mentally captured every single moment of this interaction in full detail, hopefully for future blackmail, or maybe even one for the spank bank.

“Fuck you. . .” Logan huffed, eyes refusing to meet with Wades. The older would like to believe that he knows the younger well enough to know that you should never look a Deadpool in the eyes. They can always find a way into your mind. Breaking down the walls bit by bit to expose the most vulnerable parts. . . In the most annoying way possible.

“Fuck me? Fuck you! Even your own tail says otherwise, peanut.” Wade chuckles, pointing to the obvious downfall of Logan’s argument.

The Wolverine growls, barring his fangs in a scowl as he quickly grabs hold of his tail, tucking it behind his back, down casting his head as if he should be ashamed for the situation at play.

The Deadpool does nothing but flash a dangerous smile as he advances forward, quick to capture the other, planting a firm grip on Logan’s jaw.

The older’s eyes shot up as he felt the rough hand tug his head back up. Logan swallowed back the repressed whimper as he meets the others eyes. He knows what Wade is looking for and he knows that Wade is going to find it. Logan found a familiar comfort having his emotional walls built up around him, kept him from overthinking every small feeling that hit his heart, but with the combination of the previous nights terrors and now this simple nickname, Logan could feel the walls around him tremble, pieces falling away to give Wade a peak of what was underneath.

Vulnerability. That's biology. No one is born rotten to the core or as hard as stone. . . That person is created through experience whether good or bad. Unfortunately in Logan's case the cards have never truly been in his favour and Wade can see parts of that, He just needs to weaken the walls, not until they crumble, but just enough to see the rest.

Before the Wolverine could clue in on The Deadpool's intentions he felt the mercenary's free hand snake it's way to his hidden wrist, gripping it tightly as Wade crept towards his ear.

“You’re all bark and no bite, huh?" Wade cooed playfully, strengthening his grip on the other.

"Wade. . ." Logan huffed as he winced. His hand began to pulsate due to the lack of blood, sending a chill through his spine.

"That's me" The younger smiled wildly, examining every inch of the older man's face. . . the pink flush overtaking his normal complexion along with a slight glow, probably sweat. His wet, pink lips lightly parted and coated with shinny drool from the excessive panting. Logan looked desperately for an escape. In truth if he was acting like himself at the moment, it would be a simple and rather clean escape, yet, he didn't feel like him. He felt lost in Wade’s grip, out of control and eager for a solution to this agony.

"What's wrong, puppy?" The mercenary cooed, placing the pad of his thumb against the older's tongue. "Cat got your tongue?"

The Wolverine's knees buckled under the loss of control. The walls that once were used to protect him from situations similar to this, were now bursting at the seams. One wrong movement and it's over. Wade will have won. Logan caught himself against the counter, abandoning his captive tail in the process with a whine. His pulsing hand becoming to much to keep his wild tail at bay.

"Aw. That got you, didn't it?" The Deadpool taunted. Releasing the others wrist. Logan's shot a glare at the younger. What was Wade planning? The anxiety of the uncertainty only added to Logan's breakdown.

“Wade, please. Enough…” The older mumbles his plea around the others thumb, his frustration turning into desperation. All of Logan’s instincts were screaming at him to bite down, hoping to tasted the blood of his enemy. . . But then the mercenary spoke up.

“Why not be a good boy for a change, hm?” Curiosity lacing Wade’s tone.

The Wolverine felt his chest tighten, breath hitching in the process. The Deadpool’s thumb vacated It’s space on the other tongue, basking in the glory of the older’s state.

“I-I… you can’t call me that.” Logan stated shakingly as if it was a fact.

Wade laughed, suddenly slapping away the others wrist from the counter, watching Logan’s knees give under his weight, crashing down to the tiled floor, a cry slipping from his lips, due to the sudden collapse.

“What’s stopping me, puppy?” Wade asked, tauntingly as he bent over to meet Logan’s eyes.

“M’not g-good.” The Wolverine swallowed hard, before stuttering softly. “M’ an a-animal”

The Deadpool watched as his partners ears dropped, not enough to lay flat against his head but just enough to express his insecurities.

“Who told you that, peanut?” Wade chuckled. A ping of pain hit his heart as he saw the fear cloud in Logan’s eyes. The older gave his partner a look as if trying to ask him ‘who hadn’t called him an animal?’ And then it clicked in the mercenaries head. Logan truly believed that he was nothing more than an animal. A weapon. A monster. . . Incapable and undeserving of praise. He wasn’t supposed to be the ‘good boy’, after what he did to the X-Men. . . He could never be a ‘good boy’.

“You’re not an animal, Logan.” Wade cooed. Before Logan could get a word out, Wade brought his pointer finger to his partners lips. “Shh, I’m not done.”

The older obeyed as he looked intently into the younger’s eyes, giving Wade his full attention. ‘And he didn’t consider himself a good boy’. Wade thought as he mentally rolled his eyes.

“You are the furthest thing from an animal, peanut. Sure, you’ve done some fucked up shit, but look at who you’re talking to! The king of fucking up shit!” Wade chuckled as he watched Logan’s shoulders slowly lower. It’s working!

“It’s not your fault. . . With the x-men, I mean. You didn’t know, pup. You must be mad to think what the government did was your fault.”

Something in Logan’s eye’s shifted, every muscle in his body suddenly falling. He. . . He was right. Wade. . . As much as it pained him to say it, was right. He- he didn’t know. He always kept beating himself down about how he failed to know. But never really talking in the fact that there was nothing to indicate such an attack. . . He didn’t mean to be selfish.

“I- I could’ve-“ Logan started before being cut off once more.

“Could’ve what? Saw into the future and somehow changed the outcome?” Wade questioned. Logan’s ears fell flat, his eyes downcast towards the tile, expressing every emotion in one defeated sigh.

“You are a good boy, Logan. I don’t care what you’ve done. You can be good. I know you can.” The younger soothed, tilting the older’s chin up with his two fingers. “Just let me help you.”

Wade captured Logan’s eyes. He was stunned at what he saw.

The Wolverines pupils were blown, leaving his eyes pitch black pools of vulnerability, scared and alone. Begging for safety and comfort, feeling stripped away of his dignity as his tail thumps against the floor.

“See, I told you, you’re a good boy.” The Deadpool cooed, hands cupping the others red, flustered face. A long soft whine emanated from the older, as he relaxed into the hold, his tail thumping wildly behind him as he listened to Wade’s sweet praises.

“You’re my good boy.” The younger soothes, taking in the beauty below him, wiping away the light bits of drool that threatened to fall from the older’s soft lips.

Logan felt his heart swell in his chest, because for the first time in a long time. . . He believed it. He felt safe within Wade’s grasp. The older found a comfort in the fact that the younger was seeing him in such a vulnerable state and was staying by his side. When walls fell down in the past it lead to ridicule and shame from the by stander around, keeping the Wolverine from truly believing that this side of his personality could never be loved.

Yet, here Wade was. . . Staring lovingly into Logan’s eyes, silencing every negative thought or emotion that came to the surface. If it wasn’t for the fact that the Deadpools mutation was in fact breaking the forth wall, Logan would be convinced that he was telekinetic.

Just with a simple stare he could make the older man drop to his knees. The younger’s touch keeping him grounded and the praise that fell from the merc’s mouth kept his tail thumping the same repeated rhythm against the cold, wood floor. This man had him under his control and Logan was more than willing to obey, desperate to be a good boy for his master.

“Whatcha say we go deal with this?” Wades words hung thick like taffy as his socked foot pushed against the others obvious erection. Wade felt Logan rut against his foot, whining out a muffled moan, eyes shutting as a shiver shot through his spine.

“P-please!” The older begged as he felt the younger’s foot circle around his clothed cock. Pre-cum soaking his underwear as he withered under Wades control.

“Please? Please, what, pup?” The Deadpool teases as his hands shift to the nape of the Wolverines neck, imbedding his fingers in the roots of the others hair. Logan felt his skin tingle as Wade began to pet, and scratch his scalp.

Logan felt his words slip from his mind as he huffed out soft noises, hoping and praying that Wade could simply read his mind. Take him to the bedroom and fuck him so hard into the mattress that he’ll need to literally crawl out of bed in the morning.

“Come on puppy, I thought you were my good boy. . .” Wade tsked as his foot ceased it’s motion. Logan cried out in desperation as he thrusted his hips against the still foot, begging for friction. Logan opened his eyes once again, heart dropping once he met Wade’s gaze. Tears welling up at the disappointment in Wade’s sight, his tail stopping at the realization before tucking between his legs in shame.

"Aw, no need for tears, cupcake. Talking is hard right now, huh big guy?" Wade soothed, moving his hands through the older man's hair, scratching the most sensitive spots with gentle hands. The Wolverine whimpered as he nodded pitifully, leaning into the warm hands of the Deadpool.

"That's okay, I know what you need." the younger slurred, toned heavy with lust, drawing the older even closer as his hands dropped from Logan's wild hair, earning Wade a sharp whine in protest.

"I think a good boy like you deserves a treat." Wade chuckled to himself as the sound of a light thumping could be heard once more. "What do you think, pup?"

Logan nodded eagerly up at Wade, eyes fixated upon the younger, awaiting his next command with excitement.

"Good boy. Head to the bedroom, I'll be there in a sec." Wade praised, roughing up Logan's hair. The Wolverine huffed as he rose from his kneeling position, tail continually wagging as he made his way towards the bedroom, a small pep in his step. The Deadpool smirking as he watched the other comply, seemingly excited for what was to come.

Wade strides towards the bedroom, his hand gripping the handle tightly. His body tenses as he eyes the fourth wall.

“Sorry for the cock block.” The merc chuckles as he slams the door shut. Leaving the reader questioning what could be happening behind that door.

[espers-n-espurrs]

OFFSCREEN POST

Olive Branch

TWs // CWs : Hospitals, Discussions of Child Death, Discussions of Kidnapping / Child Abduction, Panic Attacks, Violence, Injury, Gore, Blood

Connected to Connecting Roots and Uprooted.

No one liked being in the hospital. 

It was mind-numbing and draining, having to stay in one little room for days on end all the while doctors and nurses poked and prodded at you. It wasn’t just the medical staff that had been bothering Esper though. Police and other official looking people came and went, asking her questions that made her uncomfortable and forced her to reevaluate so much about what she knew. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like being told she was “safe now”, she didn’t like being told she was “in good hands”, she didn’t like how they talked about her da and mum, she didn’t like any of it. 

Esper stared up at the ceiling with an unfocused gaze, listening to the ticking of the clock. Her face almost seemed ghostly pale if not for her reddened cheeks and nose from hours of crying accompanied by the deep bags beneath her eyes from lack of sleep. Her hair was out of its braid, white threads spooled around her in messy strands like the roots of a tree, branching off into different paths. She looked like a mess.

Everything was out of her hands. She didn’t get a choice in any of this. Her entire life had changed in a matter of days and she wasn’t sure how she was meant to feel. Her da and mum had lied to her. They had been lying to her for so long. And yet she couldn’t even begin to understand how she felt about it all. Was she angry? Sad? Happy?

A small knock on the door cut through her thoughts.

Esper’s head slowly turned toward the door, her brows furrowing slightly in aggravation. It was probably more pushy cops coming to ask her about her da. Fucking wonderful.

With a roll of her eyes she called out to them, “Come in.”

The door creaked open slightly to reveal an exhausted-looking Victoria. Despite her attempts to appear composed, the stress lines and dark circles beneath her eyes betrayed any semblance of imperturbability. Clearly, the recent revelations had been taking as much of an emotional toll on her as they had on Esper.

Esper gasped as she snapped into a sitting position, “Tor–!” She was swiftly cut off as a sharp pain shot through her chest, causing her to double over in the bed, her arms wrapping tightly around her torso as she let out a hiss of pain. “I… I shouldn’t have done that…”

Victoria instinctively lunged forwards and reached a hand out to her, but slowed herself the moment she realized Esper was not immediately dying in front of her. “Are…” She began to ask something, but trailed off with a pause before saying, “I was going to ask if you were alright, but I suppose that would be a bit redundant of me, now would it?”

The white haired girl slowly sat back up, wincing as she let out a small laugh, “Just– Just a bit, I think.” Esper looked at Victoria with a small smile, “Though I’m not the most happy about people seeing me in such a state… with my hair being down and all.”

“Oh. I can leave if you—”

“I’m joking, Tori.”

To Esper’s surprise, Victoria chuckled with a slight smile. “I thought you were—” She instantly shut her mouth right before the punchline, her face falling into a frown. She looked at her friend with an unsure tilt of her head.

“Esper.” The girl stated without hesitation, “I want to be called Esper. Or, as you have been calling me, Esp.”

“Right.” The young heiress drew in a quiet breath and nodded. “Then… Esp it shall be.”

Esper smiled in turn. She wasn’t ready to be Estelle, she didn’t know if she ever could be. It was strange really, finding out that your name isn’t your name, at least not in the way you thought it was. But she could understand why her da did it, at least from his point of view, it would’ve made everything easier for him if she didn’t have her legal name. 

Though that did make her wonder…

“Why the hells didn’t my da change my brother's first name?” Esper suddenly asked aloud, tilting her head to the ceiling in thought, “Why’d he keep his first name?”

Victoria shifted uncomfortably on her feet, uncertain of how to respond. 

Esper continued, “And it’s not like I can fuckin’ ask him since he fuckin’ vanished after the second Darkest Day…”

“Vanished…?”

Esper blinked in response, turning her attention back to Victoria before glancing away with an awkward chuckle as if it was funny, “Ah– Yeah. I was the last one to see him that day, he found me during the chaos and promised to go get help. He… uh… never did. No one’s found him so we don’t know what happened to him.”

The other girl’s brows furrowed. “Forgive me for asking, but how are you so certain that he never sought help?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean like he didn’t try–” Esper vaguely gestured with her hand, “It’s just that my da and authorities were the ones to find me and Juno. And they hadn’t been told by Flynn that we were there, so they tried to interview anyone they could and no one stepped forward about having been spoken to by Flynn during the disaster. So, he may have tried, though he never actually managed to get help.”

She tilted her head. “Juno?”

“I– I should just give the rundown.” Esper responded, shifting in her bed to get more comfortable before continuing on, “So. Juno was my closest friend in Spikemuth and we spent a lot of time together. On the day of the big championship match, he was over at my old flat. It was just him, me, his Nickit named Polaris, and my da’s Obstagoon named Maverick. We were having a good time until, well, the second Darkest Day started in which Maverick… was one of the Pokemon to dynamax.”

Victoria winced slightly. “In… the house?”

“In the flat building… yeah.” The girl nodded as she began to fidget with her gown, “With both me, Juno, and his Nickit in the flat with him. And so many others in their neighboring flats…” 

She thought back to that day. Roars and calls of Pokemon shook the earth around her, echoing throughout Spikemuth and the surrounding area. The weight of concrete and brick crushed her body so tightly that she could barely fill her lungs with the dust-filled air. Metal debris pricked at her skin, jabbing at her sides and mudding her hair with crimson. She couldn’t move, she could barely cry out as all her energy was dedicated to keeping her alive and awake.

If only Juno could’ve been as lucky. 

He was alive for a while, whispering promises of life and safety to Esper in the darkness of their prison, though his body laid frighteningly still as crimson slowly pooled around him. His mind and body grew weaker by the second. He had been impaled when the building collapsed on top of them— a large, jagged piece of rusted metal had been lodged straight through his shoulder and into the debris below. Polaris was curled up to his side, beaten and battered as much as the two children, chirping and crying to his trainer. 

She remembered the way Juno’s eyes grew duller by the hour. Until they were cloudy and lifeless.

Victoria looked past the girl before her with a thousand-yard stare. The ticking second hand on the clock came to a stop, filling the room with a discomforting silence.

“We were trapped for nearly the whole day– But Flynn found us early on. He promised to go get help and… well… he never came back.” Esper let out a shaky breath, her face feeling hot, “And by the time help did arrive… Juno had been dead for several hours.”

The other girl shut her eyes and turned her head away, reaching a trembling hand to her chest. “Excuse me for a moment, Esper.” She took several deep breaths until her hands stopped shaking and the stress lifted from her face. The clock resumed its ticking, returning the familiar ambiance to the once silent room. 

After a moment, Victoria cleared her throat with a wince and gestured to her head. “Um— Mind-reading.”

Esper blinked before flushing red, waving her hands frantically, “Ah– I’m sorry– I forgot– I’m sorry I’ll just stop now I’m sorry–” The girl promptly tried to fill her mind with other things such as memories of Fauna and Deerling.

“No, no, it is through no fault of your own,” Victoria tried to reason with her. “It simply caught me off-guard is all.”

“Are you sure…?” Esper looked up at her with big eyes.

“Positive. You needn’t apologize, Esp.”

“Okay…” The girl nodded in return, “I was done anyways though. That’s about everything… Well not… everything… but all the really important things.”

“I see,” she said, finally turning to look back at her friend. “If I may be so bold to ask, do you… think Flynn is…?”

“Alive? Dead?” Esper hesitantly shrugged, “I don’t know. I don’t know which I would rather, which would hurt less… If Flynn is dead then… he’s gone. But if he’s alive… then he left me to die.”

Before Victoria had time to respond, there was a knock at the door.

The girl raised an eyebrow, then looked to Esper. “Are you expecting company?”

Esper huffed in response, grimacing at the door, “No. It’s probably another officer or doctor or something. Let me just–” She raised her chin to the door and called out, “Come in!”

The door slowly opened to reveal a lanky man in a black and green jacket, his hood pulled tightly over his head and casting his face in shadow. His attire was worn and dirty and his demeanor seemed akin to a kicked dog with how he hunched in on himself and how his hands trembled at his sides. He hesitantly stepped into the room, closing the door behind him before turning in the direction of the two girls in an awkward fashion. 

Esper and Victoria exchanged glances for a moment, then eyed the man wearily.

The man stood there silently for a minute, staring at Esper specifically for an agonizingly long before clearing his throat, “So– Um–”

At that moment, a flash of recognition and utter hatred crossed Victoria’s face. An invisible force suddenly yanked the man towards the girl while she winded up her fist and connected it directly into the center of his face. The force of her punch snapped his glasses in half and knocked the hood off of his head.

Flynn Wyrmwood was knocked to the ground, clutching his nose in pain.

With a snarl, Victoria looked down at the man and hissed, “Hablando del rey de Roma, por la puerta asoma.” She raised her leg to stomp—

“VICTORIA–” Esper shouted. “DO NOT… stomp… on….” Her voice trailed off as she looked down at the older boy. A boy with darker skin than hers and yet had the same pure white hair and lavender eyes with white pupils shining brightly. Esper repeated, her heart leaping into her throat as she took in the sight of the boy, “Victoria. Stop.”

The young heiress looked back towards her friend, then to the coward at her feet. She narrowed her eyes at him, but gently lowered her foot to the floor and stepped away. “Get up,” she spat at him. A sudden force lifted him off the ground and flipped him onto his feet— not too kindly, however. The momentum from the flip threw him forwards and he bashed his face into the side of the hospital bed. 

Flynn grunted in pain, barely managing to catch his footing before slowly dragging himself into a standing position, blood dripping from his nose. “Yeah– Yeah no– I deserved that–”

“Indeed you do,” Victoria cut him off.

“Victoria. Stop harming him.” Esper scolded before turning her attention to the bloodied boy infront of her, her eyes scanning his face. It was him. It was actually him. He was alive. He… he was alive. 

That hurt.

“Esper…” Flynn stared back at her, seemingly also studying her. A ragged breath left him as he spoke, “You’re alive.”

“You left me.”

“I know. I’m sorry–”

Esper cut him off, her chest tightening, “You left me to die. You left Juno and I to die.”

“I’m sor–”

“Juno is dead!” Esper spat. Tears had begun to well up in her eyes, “And you’re alive.”

Victoria glared silent daggers at Flynn. If looks could kill, he’d have perished where he stood.

He paused, opening his mouth to speak before closing it again and looking down in shame, “I’m sorry…”

The white-haired girl stared at her brother in silence for a while. The ticking of the clock was the only indication that time hadn’t stopped. 

“Why now?”

Her brother looked up at her, blinking.

“You had plenty of chances to come back. And yet you didn’t.” Esper asked, her body aching as emotions welled up inside her.

Flynn glanced away, “I… I was scared. I am scared. Father scared me, I was scared if I came back or told anyone then…”

“You knew.”

“I…” He winced, “I did. Yes.”

“You knew the entire time.” Esper’s gaze was hundreds of miles away, “That’s why he didn’t change your name.”

Flynn only nodded in response.

The white-haired girl gripped her blanket between her hands. Her thoughts became foggy with all the questions she wanted to ask him, but one stayed at the forefront of her mind.

“Why are you here?” She asked. “Da is gone now, you could no longer be a missing person.”

Flynn took a deep breath and looked his sister in the eye, “I… I wanted to give you the choice on if I did or not…”

“What?”

“I hurt you, Esper,” her older brother swallowed, “I hurt you a lot. I didn’t want to suddenly come stomping all over it again. So I wanted to give you that choice.” He wiped the blood from his nose as he knelt down by her bedside, “Do I come back home or do I go back to whatever hole I crawled out of?”

Victoria furrowed her brows and wrinkled her nose at him.

“I…” Esper trailed off, staring down at her brother with teary eyes. Why was she being asked to choose? Why did she have to make that choice? Why was this the only choice she’s been allowed during this whole fiasco? Why this of all things? She hadn’t seen her brother in nearly two years, she had thought he was dead somewhere, possibly eaten by some Pokemon or the like. But… here he was. Asking her to make a life-altering choice for him.

She felt sick.

“I…” The girl blinked, tears running down her face before she sharply turned away from her brother. As she spoke her voice seemed almost devoid of emotion. Almost. “Stop being missing... Come out of hiding… You…” She glared at him from the corner of her eye, “You don’t get to run from this.”

Her brother gave a small smile. Tears began to run down his face, dripping onto his now bloodstained jacket. “I won’t. I promise.”

Scene End.

---------------

Victoria belongs to @victoria-vd

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Howling Moon (werewolf!bucky)

Summary: you find out Bucky's a werewolf.

WC:920ish

Warnings: angst, fluff if you squint hard enough, werewolf!bucky

Read on Ao3!

-

The forest was alive with the sounds of rustling leaves and distant howls, the moon casting a silvery glow that turned the world into a dreamscape. You always loved the woods, but tonight felt different—charged with an energy you couldn't quite place.

As you walked deeper, your thoughts drifted to him. Bucky Barnes. The quiet guy from town, whose brooding demeanor held secrets you yearned to uncover. Rumors swirled about him, whispers of something otherworldly. Yet, the mystery only drew you closer.

Suddenly, a low growl echoed through the trees, making you pause. You felt a rush of adrenaline, but it was swiftly replaced by a comforting presence. There was Bucky, emerging from the shadows, his blue eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

“Hey,” you said, heart racing. “What are you doing out here?”

He stepped closer, the tension palpable. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“I needed to think,” you replied, searching his gaze for answers. “I’ve been hearing... stories. There’s wolves around these parts, or so I’ve heard. Been wondering what they look like, how they attack their prey. Or if they even exist in these lands.”

“It’s not safe for you to be out here by yourself,” he titled his head to the left as he looked at you. “I think you should go back to the village.”

You thought it strange how he ignored your statement. “Bucky, why are you-” you cut off as a howl echoed through the woods surrounding you. Just as you turned around to gaze into the thicket of trees, you felt a searing pain in your shoulder as sharp canines sank into your skin.

The next morning, you were laid up in your own bed at home, covered under your duvet, warm from the night. You’d laid there for a moment, thinking about the night previous, yet, you could hardly remember much. Didn’t i meet with someone? 

Just then, you heard a knock on your doorframe and glanced up, seeing your best friend,  Bucky, leaning against he doorframe, looking absolutely exhausted. His hair unkempt, his exposed arms covered in bruises. What the hell happened? 

“How’d you sleep?” he asked, unnaturally nervous, eyeing you with caution and concern. “You were out cold when I found you out in the forest.”

“Bucky, i had the strangest dream,” you whispered, sitting up against your headboard and beckoning him inside the room.

He tensed for a moment before walking over to you, his body stiff as you reached out to him, tracing your fingers along the random scratches and bruises he’d acquired the night before. 

“Want to talk about it?” he asked, though his focus didn’t seem to be on you.

“Do you think werewolves exist in the forest?” you asked quietly, as though speaking louder would attract unwanted wolves to barge into your small cottage.

“Anything’s possible, sweetheart,” he frowned. You didn’t miss the worried looks he threw at you as his eyes finally grazed down your body. He knew what he’d done last night. And he damn sure knew you would shout to the villagers of his disease.

“I had a dream - you were there- and-” you coughed out for a moment, grabbing at your midriff as pain shot up from one of the many injuries you had splattered across your body. “- and then everything went black and I woke up.”

“I-” he started, afraid to admit anything to you, afraid that you would hate him for hurting you.

“You’re one of them, aren’t you?” you whispered, acknowledging his behavior. “One of those monsters that keep attacking the villagers every month? Bucky, how? How could i have been so foolish as to not figure this out sooner?”

He flinched as though you had gone to strike him in the face.

“Bucky, tell me.”

“You already know the truth,” he whispered, swallowing the lump in his throat as he pulled away from your touch, standing in the far corner of the room. “I wanted you time and time again not to frolic through the woods late at night. I warned you of the dangers of it.”

“I’m not going to run and tell the town crier, if that’s what you think of me, Bucky,” you frowned. The way he kept flinching as you spoke broke your heart.

"I just need you to be okay," you patted the empty space he'd just vacated. "Come here."

"You were never supposed to know."

Your heart ached for him, the weight of his past hanging heavy in the air as he returned back to the bed. “You’re not a monster, Bucky. You’re still you.”

His eyes met yours, searching, as if he was trying to determine whether you could handle the truth. “What if I can’t control it? What if I hurt someone else? What if I kill you?”

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” you said softly, stepping closer. “You don’t have to be alone in this.”

He let out a shaky breath, tension easing just a fraction. “You’re brave, you know that?”

“Maybe just stubborn,” you replied with a small smile, hoping to lighten the moment. “Or maybe I just see the real you.”

"I don't deserve your forgiveness," he said, eyes surveying the damage he'd done to you. He let out a soft whimper as he finally assessed the damage he caused, partially large bruise across your shoulder into your collarbone.

Without saying anything else, you removed the duvet from your body and leaned forward, pulling him in for a deep hug. "I will always care about you, Bucky."

-

tags!

EVERYTHING PERM: @nekoannie-chan @kjs-s @notyourtypicalrose @mistressofallthingsgeeky

MARVEL PERM: @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @late-to-the-party-81 @capsthot @kenzieam @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes

[mallowsweetmiri]

hi lovely, don't know if you're taking requests but: reader is dating fred, she's sirius' daughter, she's asleep at grimmuald place the night of the battle at the ministry and when she wakes up lupin tells her sirius died and she becomes hysterical and has a panic attack fred trys to calm her down but she pushes him away and locks herself away. fluff ending?

sad wolfstar and angst/fluff with Fred? I love it.

Tw: character death, panic attack

—————————————————————————

It had been just a few weeks since you’d left Hogwarts. Considering you were an unregistered animagus, the daughter of convicted murderer Sirius Black, and caught up in the middle of a war, you felt justified to leave with Fred and George. Of course Molly was less than happy when the three of you showed up at Grimauld Place, but Sirius quickly stepped up to your defense. After all, he had been fond of pranks and mischief during his stay at Hogwarts.

“One night, me and Moony snuck out and changed all of the clocks just so we could sleep in. We kept changing them all week, and by Friday, it was dark at 2 pm!” Sirius had told you earlier that night. It made you smile as you laid in bed. You had waited your whole life to be with your father, and you were finally able to spend every day with him. So what if you missed out on graduating? Nothing could beat waking up and seeing the smile on his face. You heard a small knock on your door.

“Can I come in?” You heard Fred whisper as he cracked open your door. You were surprised he hadn’t just apparated in without permission.

“Yeah,” you whispered, sitting up in your bed. The moonlight fell on his face as he came into the room, shutting the door behind him. You couldn’t help but smile at him. It was comforting to know you had a lifelong friend by your side.

“Can’t sleep?” He said softly, taking a seat on your bed. You shook your head.

“Not quite. Just thinking,” you sighed, looking out the window at the night sky. Your eye was trained to go straight to Sirius.

“I couldn’t either. Not after all that ruckus earlier,” Fred shook his head and played with your sheets. Your head snapped towards him.

“What ruckus?” You asked, your stomach dropping. Damn this top floor room.

“I don’t know what it was about. You know how the order is, keeping us in the dark. But me and George charmed the front door just the other week. Almost everybody is out of the house right now,” Fred clenched his jaw, searching your face for a reaction. Your eyebrows furrowed together as you stood up. What the hell was going on? You hated that nobody told you shit. Sirius was the only adult who was willing to let you guys in on plans, but even he hadn’t said anything to you tonight. He often held things from you and used keeping you safe as his excuse.

“Do you think they’re on a mission? Even Sirius is out?” You said nervously, biting your nail. “He’s not supposed to leave the house.” Fred stood and placed his hands on your shoulders.

“Y/N, it’s going to be okay. I wouldn’t have come and told you if I thought you were going to get nervous,” he chuckled, his smile relaxing you a bit. “Now, come on. Me and George are playing snaps in our room.” You let out a huff at his incredulous face and shook your head, trying to hide the smile tugging at your lips.

“Okay, okay. Let me just put some pants on,” you grumbled, turning towards your dresser. Fred plopped back on your bed.

“Okay, love. There’s really no need for that but if it makes you feel better,” he hummed. You shot him back a glare that only widened his grin. You slipped on a pair of sweatpants and followed Fred out of your room, down two flights of stairs, and into the twins room. It was just a gray as yours was, but with a window view overlooking the opposite side of the city.

“There she is,” George grinned, laying out a deck of cards on the carpet. You waved him off a took a seat. “Let the games begin.” The three of you got through four rounds, and it was beginning to get heated when a racket from the front door startled you. Your eyes came to meet Fred’s as a look of concern flashed through both of your eyes. You scrambled up and ran for the door, entering the hall to peer over the railing. You saw the lot of them rushing into the house, some looked injured. You watched as Remus entered, looking thoroughly shaken, but no Sirius by his side.

“Y/N, wait,” you heard Fred say, but you ignored him. You dashed down the stairs towards Remus. Towards the man that raised you.

“Remus, Remus,” you panted, your stomach dropping when you saw his face. “Where is my dad?” He physically cringed when you said this. You already knew at that point, from the look on his face, the pain behind his eyes. You knew this man well.

“Y/N, darling. Let’s go somewhere private,” he spoke, his voice raspy and barely above a whisper. Tears brimmed in your eyes, your voice caught in your throat. You could feel Remus shaking as you clutched his arms, his own eyes looking wet and bloodshot. No. No. This could not be happening.

“Remus,” your voice cracked, “is he- He’s gone?” You whined, your body rejecting even the thought. A tear spilled out from the corner of his eye, his entire body shaking with grief. Remus couldn’t help it of course, when you looked so much like him. When he had watched you wait for Sirius your whole life, just for him to be taken away.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Please, let’s-” you didn’t stay to hear the rest. Your feet were taking you up the stairs. You ran past Fred despite his protests and went straight to your room. You could feel your lungs collapsing when you finally reached your door. The air was coming in short gasps, over and over and over again as your eye reached his star outside the window. Your body let out a whine as you fell back against the door. You sobbed as your breathe left you. You didn’t feel real, this couldn’t be real. You had just gotten him. You had finally gotten to see his smile and hear his laugh and see where you got your hair from. You had finally gotten to see Remus smile for real, gotten to watch them joke around like the old times, gotten to see the man Remus told you stories about when you were little. And all for nothing. All for a war to tear him away from you. Another sob choked you as you reached for your wand, casting a locking and silencing charm on the door. The floor felt cold. You gasped for air as you imagined how cold Sirius was. Where was his body? Nobody seemed to carry him into the house. You felt bile rise up in your throat as you imagined him, cold, hard, and dead. Your body rushed to the bathroom and fell over the toilet, violently gagging into the bowl. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think. You didn’t want to be here anymore, not in this body. Not when you looked in the mirror and saw his eyes, his hair, resting on your face. You couldn’t do that, it was too painful. It would be better to be with him, even if it meant not being alive.

“Y/N,” you heard a knock on the door. You laid on the bathroom floor, trying and failing to breathe.

“Y/N, please let me in,” the voice called again. It was Fred. You pushed yourself up and tried to call out but your voice failed you. You realized it wouldn’t matter anyway because of the charm. And your wand was next to the door.

“Y/N, I’m going to come in,” you heard him say. He muttered a view counter spells and easily undid your charms. Must’ve been sloppy work on your part. You found it hard to care. The door cracked open and Fred stepped inside. You stayed on the bathroom floor, curled into a ball, choking on your own sobs. “Y/N,” Fred gasped, coming over to you. He knelt down beside you and scooped you up into his arms as if you were nothing more than a bag of flour. You wailed again as you felt the warmth of his body flush against yours. A stark difference from the cold bathroom tile. “Shh,” he shushed you as he sat down on your bed, rocking you in his arms. This made you cry harder into his chest.

“He- he’s gone. I only just had him and he’s gone,” you moaned, hiccuping on your sobs. His hands came to stroke your head as he shushed you.

“Just breathe, Y/N. Just breathe for me,” he whispered, taking deep breaths in hopes you’d follow. You tried your best to match his breathing, albeit your sobs broke them up. “That’s it,” he muttered into your hair, “just breathe.” You relaxed into him as your sobs settled down, your body finally exhausting itself. You sniffled and sat up a bit, seeing how badly you’d drenched Fred’s shirt with tears.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, running your fingers along his shirt collar. He huffed out a laugh and put his hand on your cheek.

“Y/N, there’s nothing to be sorry about,” he smiled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your head. You hugged him again, taking a deep breath into his neck. He hummed as he rocked you in his arms.

“I- I know,” you sniffled, “but I’m still sorry.” You sobbed again into his chest. Your heart felt like it was tearing itself in two.

“Y/N,” Fred whispered, trying to calm you down, “let me take you to Remus, please Y/N,” he kissed the top of your head again as he rocked you. You nodded into his chest, knowing he was right. You couldn’t imagine how Remus was feeling, and it made you hurt inside even more. You sniffled and sat up, looking down into your lap.

“Thank you, Fred,” you said, looking up to him through your tears. He offered you a sad smile as he wiped them away.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said, using his strength to stand you up. “Let’s go,” he reached out his hand and you took it. He led you down the stairs and into the main foyer, where Remus sat with his head in his hands. You frowned when you saw him.

“Remus,” you whispered, your voice giving out. His head snapped up at your voice and he rushed towards you, immediately wrapping you into a hug.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he sobbed as he rocked you. Your sobs escaped you again. You heard the doors shut behind you and figured Fred had left to give you space.

“It’s not your fault,” you whispered as you cried in his arms. Remus had been with you for your whole life, and in this moment, you were eternally grateful. The two of you cried for the rest of the night, and you figured you would cry for a few more. You were just grateful to have him and your friends to help get you through this.

[dullgecko]

I think that if Riz were to like actually sleep on his own, and like actually sleep *well*, he'd need like a whole set up. Like he needs a white noise machine at a specific volume to block out his thoughts, but not so loud he can't still hear the world around him. He needs a sleepytime tea, it needs to be dark, possibly enclosed. Bonus points if there's someone else there. He makes due with four hours of passible sleep because I don't think he has ever put that much thought into sleeping.

The person with the next neediest sleep needs is probably Fabian, who can sleep in adventurer standard places, but he's so much more used to sleeping on expensive sheets. After Sophmore year you know it's cream sheets all the way. He has a white noise that plays mostly ocean sounds, and an entire skin care routine that he does at home. Kristen is probably the laxest sleeper, and could sleep anywhere, honestly. She can actually get rested from how Riz sleeps normally.

Goblins prefer sleeping around other people, it helps them maintain body heat and makes them feel more secure. They also need just a baseline level of noise from other people so they know there's someone on watch. If the entire horde is asleep at the same time things are liable to get in and eat them.

Riz's moms not home at the same time he is very much, and if they are home at the same time she's usually exhausted from work and sleeping so Riz just stays awake and works on stuff so she can get a good nights rest. His mom and dad would go to bed at different times when he was little so they could swap off who would keep watch, but its just the two of them now and Riz is a self-sacrificing idiot for the people he loves.

If he's by himself and exhausted and actually has the energy to get ready and go to bed rather than passing out at his desk or on the couch its a whole ordeal. He'll have something hot to drink that's not coffee, have some melatonin tablets (his circadian rhythm is completely shot from being a nocternal creature going to school during the day), he'll have a hot shower and get changed, and he'll smoosh up into the tiniest ball possible in one corner of his bed. He still doesnt sleep super well like that though.

He's actually better rested now that he's in highschool because he has friends who are so much larger than he is with comfortable bags. He'll usually at least get a solid nap in two to three times a week because the background noise of his friends classes, combined with the knowledge that they're awake and 'keeping watch' makes him fall asleep easier.

Fabian can sleep practically anywhere if need be. Sitting upright against a tree, on an uncomfortable sleeping mat, straight up on the ground, on a rocking ship. ANYWHERE. He is, however, a man with refined tastes and if he's given the option of luxury he will grab it with both hands. His party was actually a little shocked because they thought he would be the most precious about how he sleeps but if they're on an adventure he doesn't really give a shit. This is how adventurers do it. If he's at home though it takes him a whole hour to get ready for bed.

Fabian is Riz's favorite party member to nap on partly because he doesn't move around very much in his sleep too. Gorgug tends to toss and turn a little and the first time Riz crashed next to him he nearly got squished. Kristen is straight up a menace in her sleep and kicks so she's also a no-go and Adaine wakes up too easily if he lies down near her and he doesnt want to disturb her. Fig is a close second to Fabian but only in winter or if he's pissed off at their fighter for some reason (he considers her basically his sister by this point so she gets all the cuddles when he's in a cranky mood. its not weird they're family their parents are dating).

Kristen is one of those infuriating people who, even if they only got three hours of sleep, is super chipper and loud most mornings. Noone is sure how she does it given that she should be exhausted all the time from the gymnastics she does in her sleep. Her party is convinced its some weird cleric thing.

Fig is fairly normal about her sleep arangements. She just needs somewhere comfortable and horizontal preferably with a pillow. She is a hugger though and if you get too close while she's half-asleep you'll get trapped. Before the whole archdevil thing she also needed a decent sleeping bag but now she's totally fine until it gets to the point there's snow on the ground.

Gorgug like Fabian can sleep in the most uncomfortable positions if need be. He sleeps better if his party is close by though, preferable touching, otherwise his heart rate spikes in his sleep sometimes and he'll rage. If his friends are close they keep him calm and he gets a better nights sleep, even if he's in a weird position that will leave him sore in the morning.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

i am asleep much in the way that Wally is asleep. that is to say, I Am Not Sleeping

[calissarowan]

Some Thoughts About Sibylla’s Cave

Hi! I just wanted to talk about something that nags at me in Winx. (Warning: I might go on a bit.)

When the wizards surrender to the Winx, they take them to Sibylla, and we see them in the next episode, with Duman’s condition having worsened. Badly. He’s feverish, moaning, and seems to be delirious. And yet…Sibylla has him lying on what is basically a slab of stone. I mean, look!

His head is not even supported! So not only does he have some kind of mystery disease, he now probably has neck problems. And back pain. And if he wasn’t running a fever, he’d probably be freezing. Could Sibylla not spring for a bed? Or at least a pillow? Something? He looks so uncomfortable, and I feel so bad for him, because he’s already so sick! I wish Sibylla had tried to make him comfortable.

And now onto part two…

Here’s the cave the wizards are in. We can see some interesting stuff…uncomfortable stone bed, tree that seems to be growing underground (maybe it’s just roots), stone seat thing… You know what we can’t spot? Anywhere for the other wizards to sleep. Now, maybe they have their own rooms. Maybe this is the Duman cave. Maybe when it’s time to go to sleep the other wizards go to their own caves, with their own ridiculously uncomfortable stone beds. But…I really can’t see that being the case. It feels like this is the cave the wizards are staying in. In which case…where do they sleep? Are there beds hidden out of shot? Or do they have to sleep on the floor? Which would probably be even more uncomfortable than Duman’s stone ‘bed’. And would make me think a bit less of Sibylla.

Also, are the wizards actually allowed to leave that cave? (This is putting aside the ‘they have their own rooms’ theory). We see them come to the throne room (is it a throne room? It has a throne. And it’s a room. Or a cave, I guess. So, throne cave), but they’re flanked by Rustic Fairies, who are presumably acting as guards. So maybe the wizards are limited to that cave. Does that mean they’re technically Sibylla’s prisoners? Or are they her guests? Or just the people she has to keep alive long enough for Morgana to calm down and agree to an unfair trial? (Being judged by the people who have spent the past weeks trying to kill you is in no way, shape or form an impartial court. Not even if Morgana says she’ll judge the wizards ‘in all fairness’. She’s biased. Very, very biased. She would not get put on the jury if the wizards were being tried in an actual court of law.)

Oh, and, final thought:

Where is Gantlos? Seriously, where? The Winx have shown up to explain about the supposed ‘fair trial’ they just fought Nebula to get; shouldn’t Gantlos be there for that? He’s probably just out of the shot, but it’s weird he isn’t shown.

Going off the idea that the wizards are allowed to leave that cave, I’m headcanoning that Gantlos wasn’t there because seeing Duman in that state just hurt too much, and he didn’t want the Winx to witness him barely managing to not fall apart, so he’s in another bit of the cave desperately trying to keep it together. Or having a breakdown. Possibly having a breakdown. Ogron and Anagan will fill him in on the situation later.

[safyresky]

Scrimbly Jacqueline 29/52: adult supervision does NOT go according to plan...

✨🧪🔥😴💚🧡✨

"Right. Okay. So. Let me get this straight." Jacqueline took a brief, long deep breath in. "You think you've finally managed to perfect your sleeping elixir and Ken's going to test it for you."

"Yep."

"That about sums it up, yes."

"And you decided it'd be best to have an adult on hand, despite both of you being adults."

"I mean...is nineteen hundred really adulty?"

"YES."

"I dunno, Jacqueline. I don't feel very adulty. Ken's way more mature than me."

"Not nearly as such."

"You're too hard on yourself, dude! You're super mature."

Ken blushed. "Oh! Well. Thank you, Fino."

Fino grinned. "Of course!"

"Right. Okay. So you both decided an adult would be wise, despite being mature," she enunciated the T, her voice popping up an octave. "but are still going through with this despite, y'know, all the red flags."

"Yep!"

"Correct."

"And you can't like, test it on like, a mote, because?"

"Motes have a very different physiology from magibeans, Jacqueline."

"And it already works on them! So Ken said he'd give it a try!"

"Us orcs have very high constitution, after all."

"It's true! I've seen him nearly poison himself four times this week alone and seventy-five percent of the time he had zero side effects! Didn't even know he'd ingested poison! The worst thing that happened was a gnarly case of diarr—"

"We don't need to give your sister all the details."

"He's just being a supportive partner!"

"I know how much it means to you to master all facets of magic. I can make sacrifices."

"Right. So. Why me? Why not Mom or Dad? Jack? Lucy?! I mean, she's a MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL, Fino."

"Yeah, and would probably tell us to not do this."

"Debatable. Woman loves her science. She'd MAYBE protest in case, you know, the side effect to sleeping potion is DEATH. But she'd probably stay on site and be able to, y'know, HEAL you BOTH if anything untoward happened."

Fino squinted. "You turn more into mom every day."

"I can't tell if that's an insult or a compliment."

"Just an observation."

"Compliment," Ken clarified.

"Right. Okay. So you decided, quite idiotically, that Lucy was a no. Mom and Dad?"

"Didn't want them to worry!"

"Jack?!"

"Didn't feel right!"

"So you settled on me."

"Yeah! I dunno, I guess I just thought, y'know, out of all the more adulty adults in my life that aren't Ken—"

"We're the same age, Fino."

"Yeah, but maturity! Anyway, the niblets do crazier things—"

"—goddess above, don't remind me."

"So I figured that for something like this, you'd be ideal! You've got the experience, Jacqueline. So? What do you say?"

Fino grinned. His eyes got very, very big and for a brief moment Jacqueline was reminded of when he was much littler and asking for her to pretty please keep the cat, he really likes your room—

She sighed. Rubbed a spot on her temple. "Okay. Fine. But I do NOT approve."

"Don't even worry about it, Jacqueline!"

"There's a very good chance it doesn't work on magibeans yet, after all. Potions and witchcraft aren't Fino's strong suit."

"A fact you will never let me live down," Fino teased, scooping the sunset reminiscent liquid out of the cauldron and pouring it into an uncorked jar. He swirled it; the pinks and oranges gave way to purples and blues, the mixture sparkling.

"I got the colouration right! Yes!"

"Hmm. Perhaps I stand corrected. Well, bottoms up, eh Fin?" Ken took the flask from Fino, lifted it into the air, and chugged it in one go. Placing it down on the counter, he swallowed the last droplet, smacking his lips. "Tastes like gobstoppers."

"Unexpected but delightful result! And how are you feeling?"

Ken licked his lips. "Fine for the most part, though my tusks are a little bit tingly—" his eyes snapped shut and he fell down, face hitting the corner of the island as he plummeted to the floor and landed on his knees, tilting forward until his chin landed on the dirt floor, arms alongside him, ass in the air.

Jacqueline gasped, gently stepping back. Fino lifted the flask. He flushed, looked down at his partner, then up at Jacqueline through the empty vial. He chuckled, embarrassed, and scratched the back of his neck, his fiery locks warm on his skin.

"So, uh. Heh. I guess it worked?"

Ken began to snore.

"Yeah! Maybe a little too well!"

Ken snored louder, the dishes in the sink behind them rattling gently.

"That's probably not a comfortable sleeping position."

"Not unless you're like, five."

"I have a levitation spell for this—"

"Absolutely not! I think he's had MORE than enough magic for the day. I'm calling Donnie. She can lift him easy."

Fino placed the flask down and cleared his throat. "Good call."

✨🧪🔥😴💚🧡✨

hehehe huehuehue hahaha. Meet orc friend! And 1900 year old ish Fino, FULLY REALIZED! And the RETURN of MILF JACQUELINE. FEATURING STOCKING GARTERS. She's only getting Milfier, guys.

Anyway I love Orc Friend (Kenothy, aka, Ken,) sooo much you guys. You don't even KNOW. Today I decided he has the most luscious, wavy, L'Oreal shampoo commercial hair. One day I'll draw him in cleaned UP scrimbly format! But for now, BEHOLD! A BUTT.

Design Notes:

I really did give Fino a goddamn mullet. He's working it.

He alternates between vest and no vest. Since he's at home practising potions, it's a no vest day. This is deffs NOT code for "I forgot he wears a lil vest sometimes. a lil waistcoat, if you will"

Milfline's bun is poofier because it is closer to the end of the day. That thing is five seconds from pulling a Mrs. Claus up-do explosion, and Ken being KO'd by a sleeping potion certainly doesn't help!

K and I were talking about garters and stays and such today and adding them to Jacqueline's fit hit me so hard my desk chair wheeled back on me! More on this next week.

I got a really cool pair of boots in Dreamlight Valley and if I don't adapt them to Milfline I may die about it, more on that next week too!

I RIPPED the PAPER bc I originally had Ken drawn like. Across the page? But I was picturing him butt in the air the way kids pass out. I got home from work, looked at it, and went no wait. this is how it should be doodled, and voila! Orc Friend Butt

Orc Friend Deets, if you're curiouse :3 (under the read more)

Post Colouring Thoughts:

I forgot how. In theory. Fino's patterned dress shirts and rainbow lined cloak are cool as FUCK. But in PRACTISE. Make him look like a bowling alley carpet.

You know what tho? It matches the mullet >:)

Which I am wildly proud of tbh!

Decided that orc friend DOES dress fancy! hence the (matching) green coat with golden buttons >:3

His hair is SO luscious and I put the gold in just to see the lines bc after I coloured it it didn't really show, but now I'm like. idk! I kinda like it!

His right hand got eaten? I sketched it. And now it is gone. I think it's under all that hair.

He also has a BUTT TON of earrings, ya girl just got sleeby and forgot to add them in! But he has like. 5 on each ear and one of the earrings is two studs linked by a chain bc it's NEAT

Maybe I'll do like a proper scrimble of him! I really like Orc Friend you guys :3

[exopelagic]

okay facing consequences of my actions

[erabundus]

you  know  the  wait  for  3.3  is  getting  to  me  when  i  start  dreaming  about  imaginary  leaked  cutscenes.