#I wouldn't have stayed if it wasn't for you

[ckret2]

I might tweak some details later (jewelry? take the ribbon off the bow?) but I've about got a Scalene design I like. The lipstick is really the centerpiece of the design. Now let's infodump! With more art!

🔺 Notice her lines are a a little curvy. It's not for artistic effect. She's got a Fictional Polygon Physical Disorder that makes her bendier than she should be—meaning, among other things, sides that curve and flex.

🔺 It's also the kind of condition with symptoms that are romanticized by people who don't grok that it's a debilitating medical condition. Sides that curve and flex? How exotic! This went to her head in the wrong ways.

🔺 Bill was born with the same condition. You know how squishy and blobby he was as a baby? Thaaat's genetic! He was a lot squishier than most babies! And, consequently, more adorable.

🔺Scalene dreamed of being a famous super model. Was actually a teen beauty queen at mid-tier beauty pageants. She thinks it's always somebody else's fault she wasn't more successful.

🔺 She took Bill to his first baby beauty pageant the day he was born. He did, in fact, have a Best Baby Ever award presented to him by the mayor, but to be fair he was only competing against like 6 other babies and who's going to withhold a trophy from a newborn on his birthday? Anyway the 6-12 month group and 12-24 month groups also each had a Best Baby Ever award.

🔺 This was an absolutely bonkers thing for Scalene to do.

🔺 What's that small scrunkly thing doing at a pageant, he can't even see color yet.

🔺 Their fictional squishy medical condition doesn't just accidentally make shapes cute. It's the kind of condition that affects just about all parts of the body: sides won't stay straight, poor muscle tone resulting in instability & weakness, poor motor coordination & clumsiness, back aches & pains (well, triangles don't have "backs." side aches?), easily dislocated joints, and increasingly skewed sides with age. Just about everyone in Scalene's family is born equilateral and ends up extremely scalene after young adulthood. The rest of her family have normal relationships with their condition, she's the only one who's weird about it

🔺 She was very rough on her body in pursuit of pageantry success, but her physical symptoms & associated chronic pain got a lot worse due to having a kid; she had to retire from pageantry for good. She doesn't blame Bill for this at all. Out loud, to his face. (If she hadn't been so rough on herself in pageants, having a kid probably wouldn't have impacted her health this much. She doesn't consider this.)

🔺 She's weirdly intent on seeing Bill become the success she wasn't. He's her little golden child, he deserves to be seen as the greatest! He'll show them how great he is for mommy, won't he? He won't let mommy down, will he? When he's very young, she takes him to child pageants—he'll appreciate the lessons they taught him when he's older—and this lasts until he finds out he can get out of it by pyrokinetically setting the stage on fire.

🔺 She jokes ("jokes") that she didn't realize that when she was having a kid, she was firing herself from the pageant circuit so she could hire & train her own replacement. These jokes had no long-term impact on Bill at all!!!

(Compare/contrast: how we're told Stan's "You watch the movie, you scare the girl, the girl snuggles up next to you, next thing you know you gotta raise a kid, your life falls apart" is repeating something he heard his dad say.)

🔺 Did you know that squeaky baby shoes are sometimes medical devices? Squeakers help children with poor muscle tone and delayed motor skills learn how to walk correctly: it makes them want to walk on their heels instead of their toes so they can hear the squeak. Did you know sometimes oversized squeaky baby shoes are worn by young kids who need ankle braces? Did you know that kids with poor motor coordination can take a longer time to learn complicated motor skills like tying shoelaces rather than using shoes with velcro straps? It sure is interesting that baby Bill's most defining visual feature is oversized squeaky sneakers with velcro straps and that he kept wearing velcro shoes until he was 16!

🔺 As a baby, Bill's angles were technically supposed to be equilateral,* but thanks to his inherited condition, his angles were so loose his top corner practically formed a right angle. Not good: the closer a triangle creeps to being obtuse, the more likely he'll have muscle strain and medical issues from his organs being squished out of place by his own exoskeleton.

(*supposed to be equilateral: but after receiving treatment, they discovered his angles were still 60º, 60º, and 60.1º, which is mathematically impossible for a triangle... on a euclidean plane. But on a non-euclidean 3D plane, such as in spherical geometry, a triangle's angles can add up to more than 180º... and it's this slight 3D flex to Bill's body that lets him see up into the third dimension.)

🔺 For his first few years of life he actually had a hypotenuse, until physical therapy and side braces helped him improve his muscle tone. Sometimes he still reflexively refers to his base as his hypotenuse. It's fine, sweetie, it's nothing to be embarrassed about, mommy had a hypotenuse too. Don't tell anyone.

🔺 Scalene took baby Billy to a lot of doctors as a kid, just like how she was taken to a lot of doctors! Doctor for his side braces, doctor for his physical therapy, doctor for his shoes... doctor for his eye when he started talking about seeing white glitter at the edge of his vision. Scalene didn't have that symptom, but the eye doc said their condition does occasionally come with visual problems—blurred vision, lazy eye, visual field defects... It sounds like Bill's main field of vision is unobstructed, but if the visual snow he's getting in his peripheral vision is distracting him and confusing his little toddler mind into thinking it's something real, they can give him a medication that'll narrow his field of view. From the sound of it, he's not seeing anything important at the edge of his vision, anyway.

And she only wants what's best for her golden child.

🔺 Scalene's "bow" is actually a medical device: sort of like a medical corset, it helps tug and press her anatomy into place to reduce pain. Bill started wearing one preventatively—if he can keep everything in place when he's young, it'll take longer for his angles to skew when he's older. Like wearing a retainer when you get your braces out.

🔺 He has a cane for the same reason—he doesn't need it NOW when he's young, but he might as well keep it on hand, by age 35 he'll probably want to stand more often than float and when he's standing he'll probably want the extra support! Even if he doesn't need it by 35, he will eventually!!

🔺 Bill doesn't medically need a bow tie in the third dimension either; but he adapted it to help tie his 3D exoskeleton on.

🔺 A trillion years later, Bill suspects that his mutation to see the third dimension came, at least in part, from his mom's medical condition. Except, she didn't have that vision. Nobody else with the condition on her side of the family had that vision. It's not a known symptom of the condition. His dad had stuff going on with his eye too, did he get it from his dad's side? A mix of both? Just a standalone random mutation? He doesn't know; and with the rest of his species dead, there's no way for him to find out.

But back to Scalene!

🔺 She's not quite red, she's rose gold. However she doesn't like it. She thinks it's a sort of pinkish brown and very dull. She uses makeup to make herself look redder. Note how bright red her sides are: in a species where only your edges are visible, body paint is the most common form of makeup+fashion. She's pleased her baby came out gold-gold, it's much cuter. Bill knows she's rose gold, but he only saw her with her makeup off when she was tired or sick; he remembers her painted red.

🔺 She adores her Billy; but she somewhat sees him as an extension of her will. She thinks he's just perfect and will tell anyone who asks; but she also demands he be perfect and is furious when he isn't. She'll protect him from ANY perceived external threat; but she'll tough love him into being the kind of success she thinks he should be. He learns early that when he screws up, he can often redirect his mother's anger by pointing his finger and saying it's someone else's fault, and she'll bring the wrath of heaven down on them. Woe to the teacher who gives Bill an F on a test.

🔺 I'm on a quest to write Bill as a foil to the entire cast of Gravity Falls, and that extends to writing his family as a foil to the entire cast's families. Scalene's a blend of Pacifica's mom and Caryn: beautiful, proud of her beauty, afraid of losing her youth, self-aggrandizing, quick to lie about her & her family's (false/exaggerated) accomplishments—and very aware of the fact that you can say anything about woo-woo mystical matters and nobody can prove you wrong.

🔺 So she takes it great when they figure out Bill is, like, legit psychic. And by "takes it great" I mean "starts a cult."

There's what I've got on Scalene. Fortunately, I got to keep all my pre-TBOB headcanons about Bill's mom, I only had to change her shape & color. I already had medical trauma baked right into the family!

(Preemptive disclaimer before I get any "but she doesn't look 2D" comments: we all understand that the baby Bill picture we see in the book is a psychically-generated 3D approximation of Bill's 2D Euclidean form, right? And that drawing a 3D baby Bill design alongside rigidly 2D parent designs would make it look like even in the second dimension Bill already had a 3D body, right? So, if we're drawing a 3D baby Bill and want to convey that they looked similar to him, we have to draw his parents in a similar art style, right? Okay, great.)

[cup-o-stars]

Relativity Falls!

Design Concepts (and my unnecessary thoughts):

Excuse the the colors, ig my apps are fighting.

I see Mabel finding success no matter what happens to her, but I really like the thought of her running an insane arts and crafts business in GF. Alternatively, if she fell in the portal, she'd come out acting confident as always, but she probably wouldn't realize how much the constant change and lack of family/stability wore her out until she settled back in. In either case, she's a bit cracked.

Dipper is investigative, but cracks easiest under stress and is not as inherently adventurous as Mabel or Ford- so the portal wouldn't treat him well. If he's not the one in the portal, he'd be into stargazing and real magic to share with people, while also warding tourists away from the dangerous stuff. In general, he'd be an unhappy adult if left to his own devices, lol.

Between Dipper and Mabel, I like Dipper being in the portal more. He's a great protagonist, but as a supporting cast member, he needs to be more insane to match the draw that is 'Mabel taking care of children,' ha. I also love the idea of there being no portal / some other looming threat for these two to struggle with (at least because Hirsche has made it clear that Dipper and Mabel are equally smart, and to me it seems like the portal would reopen way quicker with them), but I didn't plan on posting these and I don't know how my followers feel about me posting lore.

Stanford and Stanley:

Pretty much how they are in canon, but now they're in a setting where they can get over themselves, ha. They aren't quite as mature as Dipper and Mabel were at their age, but after coming to GF, they finally found other people to look out for them. Dipper could be a more emotionally available and level-headed role model (I think having people to take care of is calming for him in turn), and they'd both look up to Mabel as the peak of somebody who knows how to socialize.

Fiddleford:

He's a sweet, southern, farm-raised mechanical engineer just like in canon.

Idk why Fiddleford is in GF (visiting an unnamed grandparent?), but I really like his relationship with Ford in the journal. Following that thought, in this AU, he starts out more of Ford's friend than Stan's, and it's kind of a big deal. Unlike Dipper's arc on learning to be a kid, Stan and Ford clearly struggled a lot with interpersonal relationships / finding security outside of eachother, and that's what I think this AU could be about (it's great they realized they need each other in canon, but the part where they had no one else to turn to is also kinda crazy if you ask me).

Ford gets to meet another smart kid in a weird town, which helps him feel more normal. He has a better idea of what friendship is because of it, but also, since I can't imagine Dipper wanting an apprentice so young/vulnerable/impressionable or Mabel asking only one of the twins to stay- he'd have to come to terms with the fact that he can't live in his dream world forever. (Or maybe the apprenticeship comes from somewhere else, just because the conflict around going back to Glass Shard Beach at all, or sending Stan alone could be pretty good.)

On the flipside, I think Stan's initial jealousy of Ford and Fiddleford's friendship would force him to try finding his own friends / hobbies. I like the idea that he fails at first- and a lot- but Mabel notices his mounting frustration (which he is very keen on hiding), and her consistent and unorthodox support makes him realize he wasn't alone to begin with. He can be more open around her, which makes it easier to open up to others, and then he can make friends without having to pull any tricks. He probably starts with some animals, and then at least gets closer to Fiddleford anyways (I feel like they're both more practical than Ford and value human company more, so they'd bond easier once Stan gets over his personal hurdle).

Anyways- because that was way too much- Mabel's exes are a constant source of antagonists and Dipper is stressed about setting a good example.

(I was more of a Monster Falls fan back in the day, but I can't draw animals, lol)

[covetyou]

tool time

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: cock worship, self imposed denial, blue balls for all, that tool belt, pet names (darlin', baby), mentions of oral sex and p in v, very brief mention of alcohol, no/pre-outbreak TLOU, no use of y/n. word count: 3k summary: He was always there to pull you both back from the brink, though you weren't sure there was any saving you this time. And it was all because of something as simple as a tool belt.

A/N: it has been one year to the day (and almost to the minute) since I published sleepless in 2023. happy anniversary to the fic that started it all. thanks to all of you for sticking with me, and thanks to Joel Miller for always being That Man.

thank you to @sp00kymulderr and a conversation months ago at this point that inspired this fic 💛

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"Y'Starin'?"

You were. From the moment he walked in, actually.

Then, from the moment he slung that thing low around his hips this morning, you knew you were done for. Four weeks of pain and struggle, all for nothing.

The best laid plans, you guess, as you grunt back at him with a shrug.

It was on you, really. You were probably setting yourself up for failure the moment you had your first grownup sleepover with one Joel Miller. Sensible people don't do that to themselves. Not when they have rules to keep to. They may have been your own rules, but that was besides the point. Rules were rules, and you never did like breaking them.

Watching Joel move and shift, his bulge in his denim framed neatly by the leather of his work belt, you had a feeling breaking this particular rule wouldn't upset you for long.

Six weeks. That was the rule. Just two painful weeks away. Six weeks, and then you'd be free from this forced celibacy you'd put yourself into. It was a test for yourself more than anything - always too eager to throw yourself into intimacy with people who didn't care and, if you were being honest, with people who you didn't care about either. You figured if you wanted different, you'd have to make it different.

You just didn't account for the first man in your life after a months long dry spell to be Joel Miller.

From the day you said those words into his mouth - six weeks, give me six weeks and I'm all yours - he'd been all in. He told you he could wait as long as you needed, and from the moment he said it you believed him. The problem was, from the moment he said it, you also wanted to fuck him about it.

But you couldn't, because that was exactly the rule you were trying to keep to. No sex for six fucking weeks.

You weren't even sure why you picked six weeks in the first place. The exact whys of it all went out of your head the moment Joel committed to your stupid, self-imposed rule without question. Those reasons why grew further from you each and every week he calmly stopped your dates from going too far with a gruff don't wanna break your rules, baby.

Even when you were forced to stay the night after one too many drinks, or when a make-out session got too heated, there he was to pull you both back from the brink.

Though, you weren't sure there was any saving you this time.

And it was all because of something as simple as a tool belt.

You'd seen him in it before. It wasn't new. It was quite old, and worn, actually. Usually you'd simply see him throw it into the back seat of his truck, or onto his counter, or over his shoulder. On one occasion you'd caught him on his knees, belt strapped around his hips as he fixed up a broken cabinet in his garage.

It did the same to you then as it did now, but this time it was staying on and not being hastily discarded with an oh shit, I'm runnin' late.

Now, he stands and shifts his hips, legs crossed at the ankle, the bulge in his denim so perfectly framed you're sure the sight will be burned into your vision for ever.

"You're doing that on purpose."

Your eyes are looking through him. Fuck knows you can't look at him. Not right now, not when two billion reasons not to break your one rule couldn't hold you back from just doing it.

"Doin' what?" he asks in a voice so innocent you almost believe him. Until he shifts once again, hips rocking in your direction, the denim bunching between his legs over his soft bulge.

"Stop it, Joel."

"Stop doin' what?"

Maybe he doesn't have a clue what he's doing to you - what he's been doing to you every day for weeks. Maybe he's oblivious, or too innocent and pure and good to know just how ravenous you're feeling for him right this moment, or maybe he's hoping he isn't seeing the way you're looking at him, ready to devour him in one, so he stands some chance of getting to work on time.

Yes, you could be strong and ignore the way his hand engulfs the coffee mug he's drinking from - strong but delicate in a way you know it to be by how he lets his fingertips dance up and down your side in the dead of the night. You could look past how his eyes flick down your body, stood stiff and still as far away from him as you can get in your tiny little kitchen. You could even ignore the way he licks the dregs of coffee from his lips, swiping his hand across his chin as his cup clinks down on the counter.

But then, those strong, delicate hands find purchase on his belt, hooking through a loop you saw him tuck a hammer into that day in his garage, and - as though you hadn't decided from the moment he put the belt on his hips - the last crumbling ruins of your resolve crash to the ground.

"Fuck it."

"Darlin', you -"

You cut him off with a kiss - striding across the kitchen to grab him by the shirt before he could even realize what was happening.

"Shut up," you breath into his mouth, silencing him more with the pressure of your lips on his than with the words on your tongue.

Joel, still trying to be a gentleman, keeps his one hand planted on the counter, the other on his belt, white knuckle gripping as he tries to keep up with your frantic kisses. You bite and nip at his lips, the fire in your belly not letting up even though you're well aware neither of you have time for this. And, though his hands are still, he kisses back with a fire to match, setting the ruins of your rules ablaze right there on the kitchen floor.

But then you're gone, and he's chasing a mouth that's no longer there.

His eyes snap open just as you slip down his body, your hands releasing from his shirt to slide down the length of his torso as you descend.

"Darlin', I -"

"Shut up, Joel," you growl again as your knees collide with the kitchen tile. It's not comfortable, and it's certainly not romantic, but it's what you need, so you'll take it.

"Your rule, baby, I don't wanna -"

"Fuck my rule, Joel."

Your eyes drop from his to the belt in front of you, then lower still to the soft lump in worn denim. You'd only been this close in your dreams - and there had been a lot of them lately. Waking up wet and sticky between your legs after a Joel sleepover was something you were now well accustomed to. While the you of your dreams could make the man come in two seconds flat some nights, the real you - the one on their knees in their kitchen - didn't have a clue what got his blood pumping and his heart racing.

You press a lingering kiss to the front of his jeans anyway. Just to see, really. Then, by the way his eyes widen, pupils blowing black in his warm eyes, and his breath hitches, you have a feeling you won't have much trouble at all finding out what makes Joel Miller tick.

You chain together another kiss, and then another, and then another, pressing your soft lips to the rough denim as you listen to his ragged breaths.

"I -"

"Shut up."

You don't want him to speak. You don't want him to be sensible, or to stop you, not when you've already waited so long. Not when his cock is right in front of you, separated by nothing but a zipper and some fabric.

You press a firmer kiss to him, breathing deeply and letting your eyes slip closed as you inhale. He always smells so clean in the mornings, but this time it's mixed with something else. The soft scent of his laundry detergent is still there, but there's the earthy smell of his leather belt, just a few inches away from your face. It smells of wood and dust and metal - the fixtures and undoubtedly a few errant screws and nails dumped into the pockets and pouches accounting for the latter. Then there's something else too, as you take another breath, groaning against the denim that you nuzzle your face into, feeling him twitch beneath your cheek.

He likes this. If the stiffening lump beneath your lips, pressed against your nose, rubbed against your cheek is anything to go by, he likes this a lot. Who could blame the man, really. He'd waited as long as you had. Four weeks for you had been four weeks for him. Four weeks of you trying to break through his resolve, to crack him so he was to blame for your broken rule and not you. Four weeks of you edging closer and closer to his waistband each time you kissed on the couch. Four weeks of your hips shifting back into his crotch every night you went to sleep.

"You smell so good, Joel," you groan into his crotch, letting your head rest against his thigh as you sink lower on your knees. Your head feels floaty on your shoulders, and you wonder if he can feel the hot warmth of your breath against his cock through his jeans.

His thighs tense beneath your palms as you steady yourself on him. You should probably slow down, you think, but no sooner is the thought in your head when your fingers are already creeping up and up to stroke across the soft leather of his belt.

You want to pull it off and pull his jeans down and finally taste him. You want to leave it on, slung around his hips as it is, holding onto it to anchor yourself to him as he slides into you. You want to feel it slapping against your ass as he fucks you, face down into the mattress screaming his name.

Instead you pull, tugging his hips closer to your face. He grunts above you, shifting his own hips again as his cock swells in his pants, undoubtedly uncomfortable in the confines of his jeans. You want to take it out - you could take it out. You could see it for the first time right now, right here. You could taste it if you wanted to. You'd imagined it enough.

But you don't.

Even through your desperation, there were things you still wanted for that first time with Joel Miller. Fantasies of the belt, and the need you had for him right now couldn't sway you from that, at least.

You'd have him stripped bare, and you would be too. Hands and mouths and tongues would explore first. And then, when the desperation got too much to bear, he'd slip into you like he'd always belonged there, sliding down to the root and burrowing himself in you.

"I don't want you to do anything you'll regret, baby," he whispers, holding your hand against his thigh, stilling you for just a second.

You could sob at how good he is, even now as you try to ruin him on your knees.

"How could I regret this," you murmur, white hot heat radiating off his cock as it throbs right beneath your chin. "Please, Joel. Fuck my rule. I don't care. I just want you."

You watch as his resolve begins to crack, shattering first in his eyes as he spares a heated glance down at you between his legs.

"Fuck."

You begin in earnest then. Your hands that were stilled go back to kneading, pawing at his thighs, reaching round to grab a handful of his ass as you press kiss after kiss to his cock, dampening the fabric of his jeans with your saliva.

"Wanted it for so long," you breath. "Need it. Fuck, Joel."

You're babbling into his crotch. You know you are. You don't care. All you care is about the wet heat between your legs and the cock in front of you, swollen and desperate as you are wet and dripping. In this moment you're made for each other, your pussy desperately clenching around nothing, as he throbs, pulsating with each kiss you press to him.

He gasps suddenly and you're pulled out of your trance, looking up at him as a wet patch blooms on the front of his jeans.

"Baby, you can't -"

"Don't you want to?" you ask breathlessly. "Don't you want to know what it's like?"

"I do - jesus fuck - I do, we just don't got the time."

You groan into his crotch. He's right. Of course he is. Still, you don't stop. He can feel your breath hot on him through the denim, you're sure of it. You want - need - him to know how much you want him. You need him to carry it with him all damn day until he's aching and desperate and ready to fuck you the moment he sees you.

He's not looking down at you the next time you cast your eyes up. Instead his head is titled skyward and his jaw is open in a soft moan you can barely hear from the blood pumping in your ears. The hand that was on his belt has joined the other, gripping the counter, twitching as if itching to grab at you when you run your teeth over the now solid mass in his pants.

"I want you," you whisper. "Wanted you for weeks."

You let your hands take over, cascading up and down his strong thighs, scraping nails down and dragging delicate finger tips up. With one more kiss to the heavy weight at the front of his jeans, you bring your hand up to cup him, palming the heat between his legs and gasping at the feel of it.

He feels so heavy, and warm, and perfect in your hand.

"Fuck," you hiss, squeezing gently at his covered cock. "Joel."

"Unngh."

He's wrecked. If his breathing and the way he can't look down at you is anything to go by, he may be past the point of no return. It sends a thrill through you, ruining your clean panties even more as the realization strikes you.

You could make him come like this.

And you shouldn't. The sensible part of you knows that. You know he doesn't have anything else to change into, and you know that time is rapidly ticking away by the ache gradually throbbing in your knees.

But, you could - and that just makes to too hard to resist.

So, you continue on, pressing kisses to his cock, wishing desperately you could cradle the heft of his balls in your hand as you took his head into your mouth. Your teeth nip at his thighs, scrape gently across the sides of his bulge. And then, your tongue slips out from between your swollen lips, and you lick gently at the precum seeping through his jeans.

You moan. Whine, really. Whimper, if you were being really honest with yourself. The rough fabric on your tongue and the bitter salt of his precum on your tongue almost have you coming right there on the kitchen floor. You quiver instead, holding it back as you spread your legs, desperate for relief that you don't have time for.

"Fuck, baby, you're gonna make me -"

The vibration of his phone in his pocket, twinned with a harsh beep, startles both of you. You look around, confused for a moment, before Joel scrambles for his back pocket.

"Tommy, hey," he says, clearing his throat. Tommy's voice booms back down the receiver. He's outside. Sorry I'm late, he says, and you could laugh if you weren't so painfully turned on and wrecked from the few minutes you'd spent on your knees acquanting yourself with Joel's cock.

"Yep. Uh-huh. Be out in a sec. Sure."

There's nothing but silence and the sound of your breathing when he hangs up. You can't bring yourself to get up any more than he can bring himself to walk away.

"We gotta get goin'," Joel finally says, hearing an impatient beep of a car horn outside.

"Tonight," you say with certainty, still on your knees. "You're fucking me tonight, Joel."

He helps you up, fingers twitching as they hold your waist. You don't have time for what you both want. Even a kiss could turn into something neither of you could pull back from now. You move to the door, together and desperate and messy in ways neither of you can say out loud, because the clock is ticking.

"Joel," you say, holding back a smile as you walk to your car. "Might wanna check the front of your pants."

He looks down, his cock still hard and uncomfortable in the confines of his jeans. He'd hoped the short walk to the door would releave some of the pressure, but it doesn't. And then he sees it - the dark bloom of wet denim, evidence of the twin effort between you and his cock to ruin his day in the best possible way.

Joel shifts his tool belt, letting it sit lopsided on his hips. You can see by the look in his eye that he wants to push you up against your car and kiss you like he means it. You can see by the way his fingers grip that loop in his tool belt once more, holding onto it for dear life, biting at his inner cheek.

"Tonight," he growls, when he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek, before stalking away to the waiting shadow of Tommy's truck.

You watch the leather of his belt slap against the full meat of his ass with every step, and you smile. Just one more day - ten more hours - and the denial would be over, the belt would be off and you'd finally, finally, get what you so desperately wanted.

Fuck your rule.

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[imagine-you]

don't turn your back on me [old man logan/reader]

Summary: "You would always remember the night the X-Men fell, because it was also the night you lost Logan." The first in a series of spinoffs from my main fic in my Home 'verse that explores different Wolverine variants and their relationships with the reader in their universes. Word Count: 6.3k Author's Notes: This isn't so much based on the movie Logan as it is the comic series Old Man Logan. In that series, it's Logan who kills the X-Men and not Professor X. Next up: Marvel Zombies/What If? crossover with zombified Wolverine and side Bucky/Reader for Halloween!

Read on AO3

You would always remember the night the X-Men fell, because it was also the night you lost Logan.  

You knew something was wrong before you even stepped through the doors of the mansion. It was late, but the mansion had never been so eerily still. It was always so full of life at every hour, with chatter and laughter and yelling. 

You weren't expecting the first body sprawled on the floor of the foyer. You fell to your knees, reaching out a shaky hand to feel for a sign of life, but it was pointless.  

Scott was dead.  

You weren't sure how long you stayed there, staring at him, before you realized he wasn't the only body. You followed the trail of fallen through the hallways of the mansion, dizzy and disoriented. You hadn't been gone for long, only a few hours. But how had you come back to this? How could any of this have happened? 

There was a shifting in your periphery, someone walking along the edge of the room, but your attention was caught by something else.  

It was Logan.  

You felt your breath leave you all in a rush at the sight before you. Logan, claws deep in Ororo's chest, snarling in her face as the life drained from her.  

"Logan?" 

Your voice sounded small, terrified, and for a moment you didn't even realize it was yours. Your heart was pounding as he slowly turned his gaze on you. He looked nearly feral, completely unaware of his surroundings. The man you loved more than anyone else would have never hurt Ororo or Scott no matter how much he fought with him. The man you loved wouldn't be getting to his feet, his claws still unsheathed, as he began to approach you. The man you loved wouldn't dare raise a hand, ready to sink his claws into you, his expression clouded with fury.  

"Victor," he snarled, poised to strike. "I should've known you'd be in on this," he spat before slashing down.  

You were quick to raise a forcefield, holding it in front of you like a shield to fend off his attack. He kept advancing, his movements frenzied as he tried to land a blow.  

All the while, there was that awareness at the edge of your vision. It was bothering you, but you couldn't take your eyes off Logan. He was single-minded in his attack, and he kept trying to break through your barrier.  

"Logan!" You shouted, hoping to get through to him. "Logan, it's me," you pleaded, keeping your defenses raised.  

You had a feeling that your current tactic wasn't going to work. Not if you wanted to figure out why the hell Logan had killed so many of his own team, his family, and why he thought you were Victor. So, you let yourself go invisible, quickly dropping your forcefield and moving off to the side.  

Logan stumbled forward, his claws getting momentarily stuck in the wall, before he pulled them free.  

"You can't hide from me, Victor," he roared, anger written into the lines of his body.  

You kept yourself hidden, not wanting to let Logan find you before you could figure out what the hell was going on. It was there, just on the edge of your vision, a shimmer of air that begged to be uncovered.  

You were so focused on finding the intruder that you backed right into a table, sending a vase toppling off the side. The sound of it crashing to the floor was loud, jarringly loud, in the room and Logan's eyes unerringly fixed on you.  

"There you are," he growled, his claws catching the light and sending your heart racing. "You won't get away from me that easily," he continued, his fist pulled back, poised to bring his claws down right into your throat.  

You managed to finally snag the anomaly in a forcefield, easily crushing it between one beat of your heart and the next. The tips of Logan's claws had just brushed against your throat when he reeled back, blinking at you in alarm.  

"Y/N? What the hell is going on? Where's Victor?" 

"Logan, look at me," you said, reaching out to cup his face in your hands, not wanting him to see the destruction that had befallen the mansion. You knew once he realized what happened, once he saw the bodies, he would lose it all over again. For now, you needed him here with you. "Victor was never here. I don't know what he showed you, but it wasn't your fault, okay?" 

"What?" Logan's brow furrowed in confusion, and he tried to turn his head, but you held firm. He could have easily shaken you off, but he seemed to realize it was what you needed from him. "Who? What are you talking about? They all showed up and just started attacking. I got most of them, I think, but--" 

"Mysterio," you blurted, recognizing the cape and glass shards of his helmet. Wade had always called him the magic fishbowl, but you couldn't even find humor in it now. "Mysterio must've created an illusion," you started to explain, not knowing how to keep your voice even. Your hands were shaking as you held his face, and you could feel tears begin to well in your eyes. You didn't know the extent of the damage, but the blood that coated nearly every surface didn't bode well for the team.  

"What," Logan snapped, finally tearing free of your hold. "But I got the young ones out. And then the team disappeared and then...and then...," he froze, his eyes finally taking in the outcome of his unintentional slaughter. "But it wasn't them," he muttered, his eyes focused in on the blood that had pooled beneath Jubilee's head. "It wasn't them, I swear," he said before he turned away from you. He cried out in anguish before falling to his knees. His head fell into his hands, and you could see his shoulders begin to shake.  

You shuffled forward, making sure to not make any sudden movements. You reached out a hand, briefly landing it on Logan's shoulder, but he shook you off.  

"Don't touch me," he snarled, snapping his head up. He looked over his shoulder in your direction but wouldn't make eye contact. "I did this." 

It sounded final, a revelation that would change Logan forever, and you knew he was starting to slip away from you.  

"Logan, it wasn't your fault. Mysterio tricked you and you couldn't have--" 

"I did this," Logan insisted, staring down at the blood on his hands. Suddenly, he was on his feet, and his hands were ripping at his uniform. He was half-naked by the time he turned a wild look on you before he was gone, storming out of the mansion.  

"Logan," you pleaded, following after him. You couldn't look at the bodies anymore and you couldn't stay at the mansion. Logan had always been your home, your everything, and you couldn't let him leave you now.  

By the time you got outside, there was no sign of Logan anywhere. You spotted something on the ground, and you bent down to pick it up. It was a scrap of his X-Men uniform, left abandoned and forgotten. You held it close to your chest before you took a few steps forward, eyeing the forest that bordered the property.  

Logan was somewhere in there and you intended to find him.  

Rumors and stories haunted you during the years you spent on Logan's trail. He never stayed in one place for too long, fleeing from location to location, as if the death he so easily craved was on his heels.  

You supposed, in a way, that was true.  

Logan refused to pop his claws. He didn't want to fight, all of his desire to be a hero had been torn out of him the night he unknowingly felled the X-Men. He suffered by himself, knowing that he couldn't die, so he would have to live with the memories of his team, his family dead.  

You wanted to take him by the shoulders and scream at him that you were still alive. He wasn't to blame for what happened to the X-Men, but he was to blame for what happened between the two of you. Did any of it mean so little to him? Did he really think you thought so little of him? Had the proposal and the promises of a future together simply vanish along with him the night that changed everything?  

You truly had nothing except for the small, brittle hope you were harboring that Logan would finally just stop running. So, you kept chasing him and cleaning up his messes along the way, because you felt like it was all you could do.  Logan was yours, the one person in the whole world that you knew was just for you. He had promised, with stolen kisses before you had to run off to teach mutant history or when he pressed you down into your bedsheets ready to wreck you in the best way, that you were his too.  

The fact that he never once looked back, never stayed in one place too long just to try to see if you could catch up, hurt more than you had words to describe.  

When the heroes fell, the villains rose. The country changed, becoming a playground for every human, mutant, and alien with villainous intent. Fear permeated the air everywhere you went, people terrified for their lives and their families, knowing that no one was coming to save them.  

During those years, you became known as Logan's shadow. Logan was no longer the Wolverine and wouldn't dare flash his claws, but you would happily wield whatever weapon necessary to make sure no one went after him. Where Logan went, death followed, because it fell on you to leave the body count in his wake.  

You saved people and gave them their livelihoods back, because you would never have yours again. You killed slumlords and murderers and anyone who sought joy from destruction, because it was people like them who had stolen your future with Logan from you. You watched Logan's back from afar and craved his touch, his look, his assurance, but going without every time.  

You had scars that would never heal and new terrors to haunt you in the night, but all you wanted was him. You felt like you were going insane, relentlessly chasing something you might never have again, but you found it difficult to relinquish hope.  

 You figured sooner or later, you would get lucky. If only for a moment, you just wanted to be in the same room as him. You wanted to walk into a space without knowing that you had missed him by only minutes before having to run after him again.  

You lucked out years down the line after taking out one of Norman Osborn's lackies in an abandoned warehouse district. You were in Osborn County, near what used to be Detroit, when you heard Logan's gruff voice coming from one of the buildings. He sounded tired, wrecked, and there was someone else's voice taunting him.  

"Can't get little Wolverine to come and play, can I? Too bad he's not here to join the party, because it's about to get real fun," the voice crowed before you heard a new voice.  

"Please! He's all I have," a woman begged, her voice breaking into a sob.  

You had been tracking Logan for long enough that you knew he was usually alone. So, you didn’t know how he had managed to stick around long enough to see the damage you were about to do. It was the usual routine for you two. Trouble found Logan, Logan fled, and you swept in and took care of the problem.  

This wasn’t at all how it was supposed to go, and you felt a little thrill of anticipation run through you at the thought of seeing him.  

You hadn’t been this close to him in years, and you wondered why he was still hanging around. You weren't sure if it was where he had been crashing before moving on, but now as you were trying to get a glimpse into the building, you could see a makeshift camp in the corner of the room.  

Logan was on his knees, glaring at someone, and when you shifted to the side, you could see a man with a knife to a kid's throat. He didn't look older than fifteen, tears streaming down his face as he stared death down. There was also a woman with another guy behind her, holding a gun to her head.  

"Just kill me," the woman begged, holding her hands out. “Kill me and let him go. He doesn’t deserve to die.” 

"You don't pay us and now we kill your boy," the guy behind her spat. "And lookie here, we've got a live audience," he nodded over at Logan. "'cept he's not gonna do anything, 'cause he's a chickenshit now." 

Logan looked so defeated and you knew he was struggling with himself. He wanted to help the woman and her son, but he was done killing. You watched him for a moment, so relieved to even just see him, despite the circumstances.  

Logan drew in a deep breath before his head snapped up, his eyes meeting yours where you were still hidden in the darkness. He took another breath, and you knew he had caught your scent. His expression morphed from disbelief to heartbreak to acceptance. He dipped his head in a tiny nod, silently giving you the go ahead.  

You stepped out of the shadows that had shielded you, shedding your invisibility, and smirked at the two guys who had landed themselves on your target list.  

"He might not do anything," you started, forming a forcefield around the one with the knife. "But I sure as hell will." 

"What the hell?" The one with the gun gasped, turning it on you.  

You easily deflected the bullet with a forcefield while you trapped the guy with the knife. You snapped your forcefield closed, only his hand holding the knife free outside of it, and watched it fall to the ground. Blood began to coat the sides of your forcefield while the guy screamed in agony.  

You formed another forcefield around the gun in the other guy's hand and jerked it free, watching him stumble in an attempt to pull it back. It clattered uselessly to the floor, several feet away and out of reach.  

You let another forcefield encase the guy's head, offering him a goodbye wave, before you let the sides collapse, taking his skull with it. His body fell to the ground, limbs still uselessly twitching, as the field held the remnants of his brain and bones and eyes. You let it all fall to the floor with a grotesque splat before turning your attention on the other guy who was still mourning the loss of his hand.  

The woman had grabbed her son and was clutching at his shoulders, desperately trying to prove to herself that he was unharmed. Once she was satisfied, she pulled him close and then fled for the door, not even sparing a glance back as you pried the knife from the guy's disembodied hand.  

You turned towards the man still in your forcefield and let it drop. He raised his head to sneer up at you.  

"You'll regret this," he claimed, falling back onto the floor. "People are payin' attention to you! You can't just do whatever the hell you want." 

"Yeah, whatever," you sighed, before taking the knife and striking out with it, catching him in the chest.  

You watched the man die, his blood pooling at your feet, before you turned your attention towards the other man snared in one of your forcefields.  

Logan's shoulders were slumped as you approached him.  

"Don't," he sighed, shaking his head. He was kneeling on the floor, leaning his forehead against your forcefield, but he wasn't actively trying to escape.  

He knew it would be a useless endeavor.  

You took a precious moment to catalogue all the little differences you noticed since the last time you saw him. His hair now had a couple of streaks of grey and the lines in his face were more pronounced. Logan had started to age, just the tiniest bit, and you hated that you had missed the opportunity to see him evolve over the years. It was another thing he had denied you and you didn’t know if you would ever fully forgive him for it.  

"I've waited years for this moment," you reminded him, sinking to your knees so you were at his level. "I'm not going anywhere, Logan, and until you hear me out, you aren't either." 

Logan had his eyes closed, but he finally opened them to meet yours. "What do you want?" 

You let out a humorless laugh, reaching a hand out to place it against the forcefield.  

"You," you answered, because it should have been obvious. "I've only ever wanted you, but you don't want me. Not anymore. Or else you wouldn't have run from me. Not for ten fucking years." 

Logan snorted, sitting back enough to give you a disbelieving look. "I've always wanted you," he refuted, briefly letting the want and longing he had been suppressing flash across his face. "But I don't deserve you. Not after what I did." 

"I don't blame you," you assured him, your hands beginning to tremble. You wanted so badly to reach out and pull him into your arms, but you were scared to drop your forcefield. He would run away again, and you were tired of him leaving you in the dust. "I wouldn't have chased you all these years if I thought for one second that you were to blame." 

"Let me go," he begged you. "I'm not that guy anymore. I can't be that guy for you anymore." 

"Yes, you can," you hissed, anger starting to rise, overtaking desperation. "I don't want Wolverine, I've only ever wanted you, Logan. You don't have to be a hero again, but I just want you with me. Isn't that enough? Just us?" 

Logan wouldn't meet your eyes, and you crashed your fist into your forcefield, hating that he wouldn't even look at you. Your heart was breaking all over again and a part of you was starting to wish you hadn't caught up to him at all.  

"Stop being a coward," you snarled, getting to your feet. You turned your back on Logan and walked away from him, relishing the idea of making him chase after you for once. "You're not the only one in pain," you reminded him. "You're not the only one who lost their entire family that night. But the difference between us is you chose to run away from me, but I didn't want that. I never wanted you to leave me, but you didn't even give me the fucking choice." Your hands were clenched into fists at your sides, and you could barely keep them from shaking. "You know what," you started, finally making your decision. "If you want to go, then you can fucking leave again." You dropped your forcefield, keeping your back to him. You didn't know what was more pathetic. That you couldn't watch him abandon you again or that you knew you would still follow him once he was gone.  

You weren't prepared for Logan's hand on your shoulder or when he turned you around to look at him. His expression was a mix of despair and frustration and want.  

"You want me that much?" He got out between gritted teeth. "You want the guy who murdered our family? Who has only ever thought of you this whole time and what was best for you?" 

"That’s a bullshit excuse and you know it. If you gave a shit about me, you would stop running," you seethed at him. "The guy who murdered our family is dead, because I fucking killed him! All you've done for the past ten years is run, Logan. Aren't you fucking tired of running?" 

"You deserve better than me," he argued, his hands coming up to grip your arms. "Why can't you just let me go?" 

"Because I fucking love you, you absolute moron," you snarled before pressing your lips to his, not wanting to argue any longer. You had spent ten years alone, desolate and grieving, and when you imagined this moment during lonely nights, you never quite managed to think it would be so full of hostility.  

Logan froze for a moment before he responded in kind. His hands were tight bands around your forearms and his teeth nipped at your lips, begging entrance you eagerly granted. You slipped your hands beneath his shirt and raked your nails down his back, wanting to make him hurt. You wished you could leave your mark on him, but he would only heal within seconds.  

Harsh kisses were followed by soft whimpers, and you tore your mouth free, obligingly baring your neck to him when he trailed his lips along your jaw towards your throat. He bit kisses into your skin, soothing the sting with his tongue, before moving on to the next one.  

You didn't know how you got across the room or when he lowered you down onto his makeshift bed. All you could recognize was that Logan was holding you in his arms and whispering a promise against your mouth.  

He still loved you.  

He told you that over and over again until you started to believe him.  

Logan was out of his shirt before you could get rid of yours. He reached down, helping you tug your shirt up over your head before his hands fell to the waistband of your jeans. He met your eyes, silently asking permission, and you nodded your head, hoping you didn't appear too eager.  

It had been so long since you felt Logan and you didn't realize just how much you needed him. The feel of his body against yours and his hands wrapped around your hips and his breath warming the side of your neck before he sucked another kiss into your flesh.  

It felt like an eternity before you were both completely bared to each other. Logan was kneeling on the floor, a question in his eyes, and you nodded your head. Your legs fell open easily, admitting Logan until he was all you could feel.  

The sex was fast and nearly punishing, both of you taking out years of aggression and want on the other. It was all-consuming, you could feel, hear, taste, see, and smell nothing but Logan. His tongue was in your mouth and your legs were wrapped around his hips, urging him to quicken his pace. You were covered in bruises and aching, but all you could think about was how much you had missed Logan. You poured every ounce of your want into the moans being wrung out of you and when you gasped, your head tilted back as you chased your end, all you could think about on the fall down was how much you didn't want it to be over.  

You half-expected Logan to get up and leave, but he stayed right there with you. He maneuvered the two of you until he was on his back and you were curled up into his side, your head resting on his shoulder with his arm around your waist.  

You chanced a glance up at him, terrified that it had all been a dream. "I'm scared," you found yourself admitting.  

Logan quirked an eyebrow at you, his hand gently rubbing your back in an attempt to comfort you. "Why scared?" 

You had so many things to be scared about, but most of all you were scared that Logan was already slipping away from you again.  

You didn't want to confess that, so you settled for something else.  

"My luck is going to run out eventually," you pointed out with a grimace. "You go around killing villains in a country run by villains, and the wrong people take notice. They'll get me sooner or later. That dead guy over there said as much earlier." 

Logan was silent for a few torturous, drawn-out moments before he finally sighed. "Then you should go home. Stop running after me." 

You let out an annoyed huff before you sat up, staring down at him in disbelief. "Home, Logan? I don't have a home. You," you stressed, poking him in the chest, "are my home, you idiot." You turned away from him, reaching out for your clothes. You were suddenly freezing, and you had no desire to run around in the same conversational circles with Logan again.  

"Just, c'mere," Logan breathed, reaching out to tug you back into his arms once you were dressed again. "I don't know if I'll ever stop running," he confessed, holding tight when you made to move away again. "Because every time I think about it, I remember their blood on my hands. They were my family and I was supposed to protect them, but I slaughtered them. They screamed, you know, but I thought it was Sinister and Bullseye and other jackasses we'd spent our whole lives fighting. But it was Storm, Cyclops, Jubilee, Beast," he listed, his grip tightening on you with each one. "And it was almost you. Mysterio had me so convinced you were Victor, I was about to slice your head off with my claws. I tried so hard to just get rid of myself, because I knew I'd never be able to erase what I did. I don't know how to just stand still and face what I've done. But God, you make me want to try. You make me want to be better, but all I've done is hurt you and force you to kill for me. I'm the reason you've got that target on your back." 

"It's not your fault," you reiterated for what you felt like must have been the thousandth time since the night the X-Men fell. "Mysterio and all those villains who took advantage of what happened to our family are to blame. You loved them all so much and they knew that, Logan. I'm not asking you to face your demons for me, but I just want to go with you where you go and not arrive days later, searching for you. If you can't stay still, then that's okay, because I'll run with you." 

Logan pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, pulling in a deep breath, drawing in your scent. "Get some rest," he replied, keeping you pressed close to him. "I get the feeling you haven't had a good night's sleep in a while. I'll watch out for you." 

You knew it was Logan's way of avoiding the issue, but you still felt a breath of relief escape you. Half the time, you had to sleep with one hand on a weapon, waiting for an attack. You couldn't remember the last time you had fallen asleep feeling safe, and now in Logan's hold, you could already feel yourself begin to drift off.  

You took a chance, pressing a brief kiss to Logan's shoulder. "I love you," you whispered, knowing he would hear you.  

You were asleep before you could hear Logan's response, if he even had one.  

When you woke in the morning, you were alone.  

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting yourself believe that Logan was coming back, before you forced yourself to face reality.  

As you stood, you tried to stretch the aches out of your body. Sleeping on the floor hadn't been the brightest idea, but when you had been so fully embraced by Logan, it hadn't mattered. Now, you were cold, alone, and felt incredibly vulnerable.  

Later, you would blame the heartbreak that had transcended into resignation. You were so blinded by being left behind again that you didn't even notice the hit coming.  

Something rolled across the floor and landed right at your feet. It took you a stupidly long moment to realize it was one of Osborn's pumpkin bombs. You brought your hands up, only having enough time to form a half-assed forcefield, before the bomb went off.  

You were thrown back into the wall behind you before falling to the floor, your head bouncing painfully off your forcefield on the way down. You didn't even realize you had dropped it until a tentacle slammed down into the floor beside you followed by another on your other side, cutting off any hope of an exit you might have.  

When your vision focused again, you saw three figures staring down at you.  

"Wakey wakey," Green Goblin sang, tilting his head to the side as he observed you. "We've been looking for you." 

"Thought you could escape us?" Victor Creed growled, flexing his claws.  

You didn't know whether it was hilarious or depressing that Logan had left you, but his brother had somehow shown up in his place. As you stared up at the last villain, Omega Red, you wondered how you could have been so stupid. You had let your guard down, for Logan, and now you were going to get yourself killed. You had spent years killing goons and lackies and now their bosses were here to exact revenge.  

If you were going down, then you resolved to at least try to take someone with you.  

Victor would be the easiest, so you turned a smirk up at him. He seemed briefly confused before you formed a forcefield around his body and attempted to crush him, but it was at that moment Osborn flipped a switch on the device strapped to his wrist. At the same time, Omega Red used one of his tentacles, the end of it pointed into a sharp lance, and slammed it down into your calf. You could feel the bone break and you instinctively tried to jerk away from him, but you couldn't go anywhere. The attack was followed up by a mist spraying from Osborn's device and you suddenly felt like your skin was on fire.  

You knew you were screaming, and you wished for nothing more than the ability to stop, but pain had enveloped you so completely. You weren't even sure if the others were actively hurting you or Norman just wanted to you to lose your mind. After your screams died out, simply because your throat felt worn raw and you couldn't pull in anymore breath into your lungs, Norman sprayed another mist.  

The relief was nearly instantaneous, but the moment was short-lived.  

You were shaking uncontrollably, and you knew without a doubt that you couldn't use your power even if you had the energy to try. You felt so weakened that you could barely lift your head when Victor crouched over you. He slashed his claws across your face, leaving blood to pour freely from the gash across your cheek.  

"Too bad my brother doesn't want you anymore," he sneered, pressing his claws to your shoulder before digging in.  

You didn't have it in you to scream anymore and you felt your head loll forward, dark spots dancing in your vision.  

You knew there was no walking away from this. At least, you consoled yourself, you had known Logan for one more night. It might not have been perfect, but it was what you needed. Victor's claws came up to caress your throat and you imagined them easily slicing through your flesh, ending your life.  

You closed your eyes, wanting to think about nothing but Logan in your final moments, when you heard his voice.  

"Get the fuck away from her," Logan snarled, and you were half-convinced that it was all in your head. He should have been long gone by now, already crossing state borders in a bid to put some distance between the two of you.  

But when you managed to open your eyes, it was to see Logan at Omega Red's back. Osborn was simply watching Logan, as if he was waiting for the show, and Omega Red already had his tentacles curling out to attack Logan.  

"Looks like little Logan has come out to play," Osborn mocked, taking a few steps back to put some distance between them. He went back to the device on his wrist, and you whimpered at the idea of the unceasing pain.  

Logan shot you a worried look, but he didn't take his attention away from the three villains threatening you. He sidestepped one of Omega Red's attacks, making it look nearly effortless.  

"I said get the fuck away from her," Logan reiterated, turning his attention on Victor. "I'm not gonna ask you again, bub." 

Victor laughed, letting his claws break the skin of your throat. "I'm not scared of you. You haven't popped your claws in years. You're just a pathetic piece of shit, Logan, and now you're gonna watch your girlfriend die." 

Logan watched the blood trail down your neck before he met your eyes. There was a moment when all you could see was the fear in Logan's eyes when you sincerely thought he was going to watch Victor slash your throat. You knew that losing another person he loved would destroy him all over again and you didn't want him to have to watch.  

"Just go," you pleaded, not wanting your death on Logan's conscience as well. "It's okay." 

Logan looked so heartbroken for a moment, his eyes never once leaving yours as his hands began to tremble. But then you could see rage fall over him and he flicked his wrists, letting his claws descend.  

Between one slow blink of your eyes and the next, Logan was standing behind Victor. 

"The name's not Logan," he started, before he made a quick movement that sunk his claws right into Victor's neck. "It's Wolverine," he snarled before pulling his claws free, messy and bloody, leaving Victor's head to roll back on his shoulders before falling to the floor.  

Osborn and Omega Red didn't move for one shocked moment before they both descended on Logan. He made quick work of Green Goblin, stabbing him over and over again with his claws until Osborn's insides were spilling out of him and his face was indistinguishable beneath his cracked mask.  

Omega Red proved to be a tougher challenge for Logan. His claws didn't do much to Omega Red and you knew that it might be hours before either one of them got the upper hand. You managed to use all the strength you had reserved, waiting for your perfect moment to strike, before forming a forcefield around Omega Red. He struck out, trying to pierce through it with his tentacles, but you were determined not to let him go anywhere.  

You let it shrink and shrink, keeping a tight hold on your control. You wanted to savor Omega Red's demise, knowing that it might be the last time you got to take down a villain. You finally closed your hand into a fist, crushing Omega Red in your forcefield, stubbornly holding it long after you knew he was dead.  

Logan was at your side, pressing a torn blanket to the wound in your leg.  

"I'm here, sweetheart," he soothed, and you realized then that you had been reaching out for him, your breath leaving you on a whimper. "I'm sorry. I never should've left you here." He was careful as he slid one arm beneath your knees and used the other to brace your back. "Arms around my neck," he ordered, barely giving you time to comply before he was lifting you up.  

"Where are we going?" You croaked, your throat sore and limbs weak as you clung to him.  

"Anywhere but here," Logan answered, carrying you out of the warehouse. "Someone's gonna come sniffing around sooner or later and I want to get you as far away from here as I can." 

You could feel yourself beginning to drift now that your adrenaline had faded. "Will you be there when I wake up?" You made yourself ask, terrified that Logan would drop you off at a hospital and make a break for it.  

"I'm never leaving you again," Logan promised you as he approached a van.  

You weren't sure where he got it, but you were grateful for it when he helped you lie down in the back of it.  

You must have given him a skeptical look, because Logan grabbed your hand and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it. "From now on, we'll run together," he said, cupping a hand to your cheek. "If you'll have me," he amended, brushing his fingers over the cuts Victor had left on your face. "I wouldn't forgive me if I was you." 

"Yeah, well, you're not me," you pointed out, bringing a hand up to squeeze his wrist. "And I love you, Logan. I never stopped loving you." You had crossed state lines and fought and bled and cried all for Logan. You would have kept chasing him for the rest of your life, because he was all you had.  

Logan gifted you an uncertain smile and you knew he felt like he didn't deserve your devotion. "I'll spend the rest of my life earning that," he told you before pressing a kiss to your forehead.  

"I never wanted you to have to be the Wolverine again," you tried to console him, knowing how much he had sacrificed letting his claws free again. "But thank you for saving me." 

Logan huffed out an amused breath, gifting you with a look like he couldn't believe you were real. "You're the one who saved me," he pointed out, maneuvering himself until he could lie down at your side. Your eyelids had started to droop and you were fighting sleep. "Now, try to get some rest. I'll be here when you're ready to wake up." 

You reached out, grasping Logan's hand in yours. "I'm going to hold you to that," you let him know before letting yourself fall asleep, finally feeling safe with the knowledge that Logan wasn't planning on leaving you again. 

Author's Notes: @the-gentle-spirit had the idea that each Wolverine had their own Y/N and that the Y/N in the main fic 'won't somebody come take me home' truly had the worst Logan in her universe before she met the Logan from Deadpool and Wolverine. Every other Logan is stupidly in love with their Y/N, so the fact that that Logan could let her go so easily was truly an anomaly. So, each chapter will be a different variant, starting with Old Man Logan as a birthday gift to myself. 🎉🥳 If you want to be tagged in this series or in all of my Logan fics, just let me know!

All Logan Taglist: @i-left-my-cat-on-the-stove @slightlymediocree @snowyminty @i-wear-wet-socks313 @shizzybarnaclee

[taskforce420]

leaked. simon 'ghost' riley

it was obvious something had happened, the way people stared at you as you walked past them, they watched as your hips moved, and chest bounced. however- you couldn't understand why everyone had taken some kind of liking to your figure randomly. there was no need for them to, you wore the same kind of clothes everyday around the base.

it wasn't until your captain jogged over to you and pulled you into his office, along with your fellow team mates, that you finally realised something bad had happened. it was obvious that your captain, price, felt a little uncomfortable in explaining the situation. he stumbled over his words a little, he cleared his throat far to much and for gods sake- why does he keep pacing?!

"for christ sake cap, what's goin' on?" you finally spoke up, looking at him and everyone else in the room with a frown. price, and the others looked down as you spoke, apart from one. ghost.

"the fella you, stupidly, got yourself associated with- has leaked somethin' of yours" ghost spoke with his awfully dull tone. you could have sworn you felt you heart and soul leave your body, my eyes stayed glued to his.

"what.." you finally muttered out, in complete and utter disbelief. the man you once trusted with those kind of photos had completely disregarded your wishes of deleting those images you had sent him a while ago.

"he hasn't sent them to anyone, but he's been showing them to people." ghost continued on, crossing his arms across his chest and looking down at you. he was...disappointed in you, thought you were better then to send those kind of photos to someone; but we all know he didn't understand why you did what you did, he doesn't understand why anyone does it to be honest.

you were stunned, how the hell were you supposed to get out of this? sure you could talk to that foolish man you once liked, but that probably wouldn't end very well, you couldn't delete it off his phone..

"what am i supposed to do?" you finally spoke up, your voice a little shaky and desperate. it was embarrassing to admit but you sent those photos because he asked you to and you thought, you liked him; but little did you know you was using him as a distraction. trying to keep you feelings hidden for someone else.

it sounds bad, but he was using you just as much as you were using him. he only cared about one thing, nudes, and he was willing to do whatever he could to get them off you and if that meant filling your head with sweet nothings then that's exactly what he'd do.

price looked up as you spoke, he heard the pain in your voice and god it was horrible. he knew about the issues of men leaking photos around the base, it happened more often then he'd like to admit, but seeing you in this mess; a sweet, caring lady with the desire to do good and treat those around her with nothing but respect, pissed him off.

it pissed everyone off, soap, gaz, but one in particular was ghost.

you couldn't tell, but his eyes were squinted, his teeth clenched, his breathing heavy, and his hand squeezing his own bicep out of anger. sure, it was annoyed at you, but he was far more angry at the man who threw your trust out of the window and purposefully showed you off. how could he?!

"i'll talk to em'" ghost finally spoke up, you and the others looked at him, dumbfounded.

"si, you don't have to do that. i-i'll handle it on my own, after all its m-" he cut you off, you were right. it was your own fault, but he knew how you felt and he was not about to let you deal with it on your own.

"don't be daft, i'll sort it" and he was gone. straight out the door of caps office. the door slammed behind him and you bit your cheek nervously.

"well, thats tha' sorted" soap said, and god was he right.

it was only the next day, and people stopped staring. their eyes no longer followed you or your chest as you walked, no, instead they stared at the ground or simply refused to look your way. it was hard not to smile to yourself. oh, simon. the man you are.

it was now even more harder to mask your feelings for him, he helped you, without a second thought.

where you walked into his office to ask him about it, he immediately looked up at you, his hands stopped typing away at the computer. you let out a small hi, as you closed the door to his office and made your way to the desk.

he replied with a small nod of his head and a quick, you okay?. "im okay, thank you for talking to him" tilting your head a little with a small smile.

he took notice of you small gesture and smirked under his mask, so pretty.. he leaned back into the chair. "'course love".

[minminbunny]

Stalker X Stalker AU - Psychotic! Lee Felix/Love Straved Gender Neutral! Reader

*smut part - AFAB/AMAB

💕Drabble Masterlist

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

"We're done, Felix. I can't do this anymore," you scoffed, tugging your wrist back from his grip. Felix felt his blood boil, "What do you mean, we're done. I can't stay having another break from you just because you don't understand that I hate it when they stare at you, baby. You're mine, my little darling," he growled, glaring at you.

"Not a break, it's over. I'm sick of you being possessive of me. I'm sick of you watching over me. Just leave me alone, we're breaking up," you sniffled as angry tears dripped down your cheeks. Felix's eyes widened, "Baby, you can't do this to me. I'll give you more space. I just hate when people gawk at you like some toy. Darling, you're worth more than that. You're my everything. Please don't leave me," he pleaded, feeling his knees get weak.

You looked away, dragging your suitcase, "I'm sorry," you whispered, closing the front door behind you. Felix held his head in his palm, laughing controllably at the events that just happened, "It's a nightmare. It's all just a nightmare. They'll come back for me. They have to," he babbled, tears streaming down his cheeks as he wailed.

You curled up in a hotel bed, clutching the plush Felix won you at an arcade. You sighed, "It was for the best, right?" You sniffled, feeling the usual familiarity of loneliness. "It's not like he wouldn't find another. He's handsome, charming. He can easily get another partner that's just like me," you sniffled, your voice cracking as you spoke.

You looked at the plush, staring into its eyes, "This is where I belong," you whispered, crying yourself to sleep. Felix clenched his jaw and stared at the screen, his gaze icy and blank. Tear stains etched into his pale skin, "You can't escape me, darling. I understand where you're coming from though, those stupid ex partners of yours surely implanted those thoughts in your mind, but I'll come after you. I'll show you true affection, I'll teach you. Mark my words," he growled, staring at your sleeping face through the plush he gave.

Weeks went by and the loneliness grew heavier and heavier. It felt like Felix's constant affection was filling up the empty gaps throughout the day. It felt like he was distracting you from the heavy thoughts in your mind. You stared at the plush, "Is he right?" You whispered, stroking the plush. You questioned your decision, pondering if it were the right choice to make or were you just too caught up to escape.

You couldn't tell the difference, "Maybe I should go on a blind date and see how that goes," you murmured, calling a friend to step you up. Felix pressed his tongue against his cheek, "Not on my watch," he grits, eavesdropping on the call and forming his plan. You dressed up nice, it's been a while since your first date with Felix and you know that first impressions matter. You kissed your plush goodbye and left for the venue.

When you walked in, someone was seated at your table. You went up to them, but they were on a call. They gave you a guilty look and apologized. You nodded and waited for their call to end. It was a quick date, one with not many defences, just a smooth sailing date. You exchanged numbers and went to the bathroom. It wasn't like your first date with Felix. His eyes weren't glued to you and his smile was half-hearted.

When you first met Felix he gave you the brightest smile you've ever seen. He made you feel seen. You sighed, filling the bathroom with an odd sense of longing. Felix waited by your car, waiting and lurking for your arrival. He had a cloth drenched in chloroform, ready to kidnap you in your own car. You walked through the parking lot, mind still dazed from the odd longing in your chest, you missed him.

You missed the way he would cheer you up when you're down. You missed the way he would tighten his grip around your waist and bite the back of your nape to claim you. "I miss him," you whispered, holding the hood of your car. Felix shifted his jaw, 'You just met him, and you miss him?' he thought, waiting for the right moment. You sighed, unlocking your door when you felt a cloth over your nose and mouth.

You panicked, thrashing away when you heard a familiar deep voice, "You're mine," he purred, holding the cloth closer. You felt yourself subconsciously relax, knowing that it was Felix that's holding you. He furrowed his eyebrows, subtly questioning why you gave in so quickly, but he paid it no mind. You were in his arms, and that's where you'll stay. Felix placed you in the back seat, bound your ankles and wrist, and taped your mouth.

You stirred awake hours later, your arms bound to the back of the chair and your ankles tied apart. Felix sat in front of you, watching your sleeping body like a drug, "Wakey, wakey," he chuckled, seeing you stir. "Slept well?" he asked, twirling a pair of scissors in his hand. You blinked at him, "Where have you taken me?" You asked, your speech slurring.

Felix chuckled, "Curious, aren't you? We're in my relatives' cabin house, in the middle of nowhere, darling. Even if you run, I know these acres better than you," he warned, holding the knife to your throat. "Tell me, was all our love for nothing? I just want you to love me like I love you," he pleaded, tears dripping down his cheeks. You bit your bottom lip, staring at him with wavering eyes.

Felix threw the scissor aside, "Answer me, Godamnit!" He lashed, gripping the chair behind you. "I don't know! I don't know what love is, Lix," you sobbed, hunching over. Felix felt his breath hitch at the nickname, "I know you don't, darling. That's why I've been showing you. I didn't mean to overwhelm you," he said, wiping your tears.

You leaned into his palm, "Teach me? I can learn to be as lovesick as you. Please, I want to love like you," you sniffled, looking at him. Felix took in a deep inhale, "Okay, precious. You'll see the way I'm obsessed with you," he whispered, patting your cheek.

NSFW BELOW CUT

AFAB

"Fuck, you're so tight," Felix groaned, his hands tied behind your back and his ankles tied apart. You held a knife to his throat and rode his hot girthy cock, "Can't, can't," you moaned, trying to ease down to the hilt. Felix groaned, digging his nails into his fist, "Yes you can, darling. You can ride my cock without my help," he hissed, feeling your slicked tight walls clench around his cockhead.

You sniffled, bouncing your hips up and down his cock, barely taking half of his length up your puffy cunt. Felix chuckled, raising an eyebrow, "See precious. This is how you depend on me. This is how you let me take care of you," he said, removing his hands from behind, easily undoing the rope as he took the knife away from you. "Now let me help, yeah?" He said, thrusting his hips upwards with your bounces.

He held your waist tight as he buried his cock deep within your cunt. You cried into his shoulder, the stretch dulling your mind from the sheer pleasure and pain coating your senses. Felix kissed your shoulders, "There we go mmh down to the fucking hilt," he chuckled, kissing up your neck. You clawed his back, "Please make love to me?" You pleaded, looking into his eyes with a pitiful gaze. Felix smiled, kissing your cheek, "Of course, my darling. We have all night for this," he said, thrusting his hips at a languid and lazy pace. Taking his sweet time to engrain this moment into your heart.

AMAB

"Fuck, you're so tight," Felix groaned, his hands tied behind your back and his ankles tied apart. You held a knife to his throat and rode his hot girthy cock, "Can't, can't," you moaned, trying to ease down to the hilt. Felix groaned, digging his nails into his fist, "Yes you can, darling. You can ride my cock without my help," he hissed, feeling your slicked tight walls clench around his cockhead.

You sniffled, bouncing your hips up and down his cock, barely taking half of his length up your puffy hole. Felix chuckled, raising an eyebrow, "See precious. This is how you depend on me. This is how you let me take care of you," he said, removing his hands from behind, easily undoing the rope as he took the knife away from you. "Now let me help, yeah?" He said, thrusting his hips upwards with your bounces.

He held your waist tight as he buried his cock deep within your hole. You cried into his shoulder, the stretch dulling your mind from the sheer pleasure and pain coating your senses. Felix kissed your shoulders, "There we go mmh down to the fucking hilt," he chuckled, kissing up your neck. You clawed his back, "Please make love to me?" You pleaded, looking into his eyes with a pitiful gaze. Felix smiled, kissing your cheek, "Of course, my darling. We have all night for this," he said, thrusting his hips at a languid and lazy pace. Taking his sweet time to engrain this moment into your heart.

[vulpixisananimal]

"And you're absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent sure about this?" (Isabeau asked, he looked at you, concerned. He had worried about you all morning, helping you get ready for the day, checking for bruises, for anything wrong at all. But no, the only issue you had was the same issue you had yesterday.)

"I'm sure, absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent sure." (You nod. It was, it was the only place you could think to go.)

(The Favor Tree.)

(You were going to be useless in the house. Drag them all down, get them killed, fail over and over again if you just ran into that brick wall called the House of Change. No, no what you needed, was, some time alone.)

(It took some convincing, but eventually, everyone agreed. Isabeau would help you to the Favor Tree, sit you down, and you'd wait for them to return. You tried to subtelty give them tips, hints on how to get through the house without you, but it was hard without giving anything away.)

(They would be the heros this loop, you'd just be another frozen soul in Dormont, unless you looped back beforehand, naturally.)

"I-I could still carry you! I wouldn't mind! I can beat sadness AND help you through the house!" (Isa was practicly begging, but you couldn't go, not this time at least.)

(You chuckled, and smiled.) "Hey don't worry, I'll be waiting for you right where you leave me, okay?"

"Ha, haha. ." (The laugh was forced. Jokes wouldn't help warm the air here.)

(Eventually, the two of you ended up at the Favore Tree. It loomed above you; imposing, menacing, taunting. You kept your forced smile, Isabeaus arm holding you up. You still. Couldn't. Fell. It.)

". . . The Favor Tree's pretty cool, isn't it?" (Isabeau says.)

"Yeah it is. . ." (Ah you knew this line.)

"Glad you agree!"

(Make the pun. Make the pun it's the one thing you gotta do each time to stay sane just, make the pun.) "One could say it's a pretty. . ."

". . Uh huh?"

"Tree-mendous tree!" (You say, just like before.)

". . Heh, hehaha! Ha!" (Isabeau laughs, you laugh. This time at least it wasn't as forced but. . . You could still tell he wasn't happy with it. With your whole situation.)

(He doesn't reach for you. Good thing too, you couldn't step back either.)

"Any place you want to be set down, or. . ." (Isa asks)

"Oh uh, just that root over there." (You gesture with a nod. Isa helps you over and sits you down, leaning your back against the tree. He steps back. He was looking at you, his face was full of, pitty? Great, it was pitty.)

"And, you're absolutely, sure?"

"I'm sure, Isa, okay? I promise." (You keep smiling.) "See you after the day's saved, okay?"

". . . Okay, I-I'll, I'll see you. Later. I'll see you later. After we're back."

"You'll do great! Isa! Big buff guy Isabeau! You'll do great!"

"Yeah!!! It'll go great!!" (Isabeau finally smiled back. As forced as it was.)

(He waved, you smiled back, he walked away. You wait untill he's gone. A beat, two, three, four. . .)

(. . .)

(. . . . . . . .)

". . . . Wow Stardust! You've really caused quite the stir!" (And in an instant that familiar voice filled your ears. You turn your head and sure enough, Loop was there. Oh Loop. Reliable, wonderful, annoying as hell. They didnt have a mouth but those eyes were all they needed to grinn.) "You have Isabeau carting you around like royalty! My, lucky you!"

"Loop. . ." (Your breathing gets heavy.)

"Was it all to get more time with me, Stardust? You know you could have just snuck out~"

"Loop I, I can't-" (Your stomach hurts.)

"What, can't move?!?" (Loop huffed, looking away.) "Come on, Stardust! You went back in time! So what if the King snapped your spine, it's fine now!"

"But, it's not-" (Why didn't they believe you?)

"It's fine!! It has to be fine!!" (Their tone changes, angry, or-) "You changed time!! Whatever you did it doesn't matter now!! It gets, turned, back!!"

"THEN WHY CAN'T I DO ANYTHING?!?" (You yell, you yell and yell. You yell and cry.) "WHY CAN'T I FEEL ANYTHING?!? WHY CAN'T I MOVE?!?! WHY AM I JUST, SO, USELESS?!?!?!"

(Loop doesn't reply. You keep crying, you can't, you can't stop yourself.)

"I can't do anything!! I'm useless!!! A sack of rocks to be hauled around!! I can't do anything by myself, always needing help!!! Do you think I want that?!?"

"I can't move!! I CAN'T MOVE!!!! I can't check for traps!! I can't look for keys!! I can't fight I can't walk I can't eat I can't flip pages of a book I can't do ANYTHING!!!"

"We'll never make it out!!! We're STUCK here!!! AND IT'S ALL MY FAULT!!!"

(You were sobbing, you couldn't stop. You were stuck here. You couldn't move, you couldn't fight, walk, win, live, do anything. You'd never escape, you'd never get out.)

(You're doomed.)

(It's quiet. You don't know for how long it's quiet for. You sob, unable to stop, eye squeezed closed. Loop doesn't say anything. You hear the wind rustle the leaves of the Favor Tree. You feel the sun on your face.)

(You calm down, taking a few deep breaths, one, two, three, four, five, sex, seven. You're okay, you're fine, you're okay now, you're.)

(You're. Over. It.)

". . . . . . Siffrin, I. . ." (Loops voice. You don't open your eye.) ". . . . I'm sorry."

". . . It's fine."

"No! It's not fine!" (They huff.) "If- since it looks like you really are stuck like this, we need, a new plan."

". . ." (You sigh.)

"You won't be getting anywhere by moping Stardust~" (Loop giggles.) "Who knows! This could be some twisted blessing in disguise!"

"Yeah right. . ." (You roll your eye.)

". . . Well? Are you just going to sit there being sorry for yourself?"

"Sorry, let met just stand up and be sorry somewhere else." (You stick your tongue out.)

"Hah! Hahahaha!!" (Loop laughs, and claps their hands together.) "Well now that you're feeling better, how can I help you out on this wonderful new loop, Stardust?"

[aithusarosekiller]

Regulus slowly grew to hate Sirius' joking remarks

It started when he was 10, on the night of the 31st of August, when they were having a sleepover in Sirius' room and talking about school the next day

Sirius, joking: when you come up to Scotland next year, you better stay away from my friends, I don't need you tarnishing my name haha

Regulus: good luck when you have to share the Slytherin common room with me then

Sirius: unless I get into gryffindor out of spite, wouldn't that be funny?

Regulus: don't be ridiculous

Naturally, the next day, that is precisely what happens. Of course it wasn't truly out of spite but that doesn't mean a bitter 10 year old won't take it that way.

A few months later at Christmas he harmlessly jokes about how he's going to make sure he's at the top in the subjects Regulus is excited for in order to set him some competition and guess where his top grades are that year? Given they both studied the same things growing up, they have a few talents in the same place, but it doesn't look that way to Regulus. He's a kid, he doesn't know it's all coincidence, he doesn't know that Sirius isn't choosing to be mean and just wants to joke around with him.

From there on out, he learns to associate Sirius' jokes with a big scheme to humiliate him despite that never being the plan. He thinks it's jealousy. Sirius thinks he's a stupid fool but can't put his finger on why his mood switched; besides him clearly just being a crazy mummy's boy who's too late to help now obviously.

[a-killer-obsession]

Whoops, you got hit by a bus, and now you're in the world of One Piece. But not everything is quite as you remember it...

General Tags: afab reader, she/her reader pronouns, isekai, monsterfucker reader, vampire!kid, werewolf!killer, wyrm!heat, minotaur!wire, everyone has a human form, smut heavy, unhealthy relationships, dubious consent, serious violence, spoilers for Wano arc, starts pre-timeskip. There will be a lot of more intense kinks, please check AO3 for all current tags.

Chapter 11 - Two For One Special

The best things come in twos :)

WC: 3.4k

Masterlist | AO3 | Chapter 1

A/N: yes I know this isn't how snake dicks work, but also he's not a snake so 😤

It'd been a few days since Kid had announced your official joining of the Kid Pirates, and the crew had welcomed you with open arms. While you hadn't had much chance to get to know them, you had become decent friends with Quincy, Hip and Emma, who had accompanied you on several shopping trips over the last few days so you could stock up on all the things you needed, like clothes, sanitary items and furniture to be delivered to the Victoria Punk in a few days. Right now the Punk resided in a dry dock, being coated by Rayleigh in preparation for the journey to Fishman Island. It was nice having the guarantee that the crew would make it to the New World unscathed, given the low success rate for pirates passing through. As predicted, Rayleigh had been thankful for Kid's help in getting Cammie out of the auction house, even if it hadn't been his intention. It would take another day for the coating to be finished, and in the meantime the crew had been staying on Sabaody. You'd even had the chance to visit the amusement park with the girls, and Quincy may or may not have fingered you in the ferris wheel, a lady never kisses and tells. You liked Quincy, she was fun. If you were gonna sleep with anyone on your own fruition, outside of the big four, it'd most likely be her. A little bit of pussy, for variety.

You spent the first few nights staying with Wire, since fucking him when you should have been resting did in fact turn out to be a mistake, and Wire was the least likely to jump you when he knew you needed time to recover. You were offered your own room, now that you weren't a prisoner, but you didn't feel comfortable being on your own in a place known for kidnapping and selling people. Kid wasn't happy about being separated from his ship, because it meant he couldn't work on your collar, but it was just as well since you weren't up for being free-used right now anyway. It was nice spending more time with Wire, he wasn't as stuck up as you initially thought, he was actually pretty easy to get along with now that you were a crewmate and not a prisoner. He hadn't allowed himself to get close to you when there was risk of you being a traitor and being disposed of, but now that you were a permanent fixture he was allowed to let himself care about you. He wasn't as cuddly as the others, but he was good company. Last night though Heat had practically begged you to spend the night with him, and pinky promised he would be on his absolute best behaviour, so you'd relented.

Heat had kept to his word, not going any further with you than cuddles and some pleasant making out, and now he slept soundly beside you in his wyrm form, forced on his back by his horns, his long tail hanging off the end of the bed. You were nestled up against him, wearing one of his old shirts with nothing underneath. You owned clothes now, but the boys all had such soft shirts that were so oversized and comfy to sleep in. While he was on his best behaviour, you were feeling a bit frisky. You were well aware that your period was close, and it was making you antsy. You didn't know how keen the boys would be on period sex, so you decided to take advantage of the short amount of time you had before your cycle started. You were already cramping lightly, so it wouldn't be long. Not to mention you usually had quite painful periods, so you usually didn't want to be touched due to how miserable you felt.

You also had a curiosity after the gangbang, after watching Wire toy with the slit that hid Heat's cocks. You wondered what it looked and felt like inside the slit, and since Wire had done it, surely it was okay to toy with - it certainly seemed like Heat had enjoyed it. Quietly you pulled the blankets off him and straddled his pretty mauve tail. His scales were always so beautiful, you loved to run your hands over them and admire the iridescence. He was especially beautiful in the sunlight, when his whole tail sparkled with that iridescence. Heat stirred a little in his sleep as you lowered your weight on to him, but didn't wake yet. You ran your finger over the closed slit, feeling bad for a short moment for invading his privacy, before remembering how many times you'd woken up with Heat's dick buried in your cunt.

You used your thumbs either side of the slit to gently pry the scales apart, a little surprised at what you found inside. It almost looked like a pussy, the tip of the higher cock where you would expect a clit to be, the other tip lower where you would expect the vaginal opening. It seemed like they were laid one on top of another, the shafts going up towards his belly. Pretending it was a clit, you fiddled with the pointed tip of the upper cock, making Heat whine in his sleep. You pushed your fingers in further, between the two shafts, feeling the piercings and bumps that lined the lower side of the upper shaft. It was warm and a little moist inside his sheath, a bit like a pussy. No wonder Wire liked to toy with it, and it made you feel flustered to technically be inside him.

Leaning down, sliding your butt a little further down his tail, you held the slit open and flicked the upper cock with your tongue. You pushed your tongue between the shafts, tasting the musky slick that coated them, a taste you were familiar with whenever Heat was in this form. You sucked on the tip, feeling it move as his cocks sprang to life and tried to slide from the slit. The more you worked at his cocks, the less you could get inside him, until both phallus were proudly presented. You took turns sucking on each one, listening to Heat's quiet whimpers, until his own moan woke him.

“[Y/n]?” He groaned, hips wiggling and fingers gripping at the sheets as he realised the situation, “ohh, fuck, fuck [y/n], that's so good.”

“You're so pretty, Heat,” you cooed before focusing on the lower cock, bobbing your head as your hand worked the other. Heat whined and whipped his tail excitedly against the bed, one of his hands burying in your hair and beckoning you to swallow more of him. You let him guide you, wanting to please him and hear more of his cute little whimpers, gagging occasionally as his tip hit your uvula. You'd had a lot of practice these days, and could almost take all of him in this form, the thinner tip far easier on your throat than a human cock. Your eyes watered as finally you were able to successfully meet his base, and Heat let out a high pitched whine that was your only warning before his grip on your hair tightened, holding you against him as he emptied right down your throat. His other cock likewise spilled out, drenching your face and hand with a stream of cum.

When his grip finally loosened you pulled off with a pop, licking at the cum that dripped on your lips with a fiendish smile. Heat sat up and kissed you fiercely, before licking a wide swipe up your face to clean off his cum. It aroused you to taste his own cum on his tongue, and you ground your bare cunt against his tail and the base of his still exposed cocks. His hand slid down your front, catching the hem of your shirt and pulling it up and over your head. He dipped to suck on your tits, groping each of them and squishing them together, pressing his face against the valley he created. He had to be careful of his horns, but mostly they just pushed flat against your clavicle.

“I could die happy in these tits,” he sighed, “fucking incredible. You're so beautiful.”

One of his hands travelled down your soft front, until it could cup your mound. His fingers slipped between your folds, and he groaned against your nipple as he felt how soaked you were. His cocks were twitching back to life as he heard the wet squelch your cunt made as he pushed two fingers inside you, pumping you deep and slow. You were practically dripping on his hand with how wet you were, bouncing slighting to try fuck his fingers faster. Heat added a third finger and stretched you out more. He focused on pleasing you, using his other hand to rub your clit as he watched your face contort in pleasure, your mouth making a pretty little ‘o’ as you hit your orgasm and shuddered against him with a gasp.

“Heat,” you panted against his chest as he pulled his fingers out of you, “I- I want your cocks.”

“Plural?” He questioned with a raised brow. You'd never asked for both.

“Plural,” you confirmed, nipping at his neck and making him groan until he gave in and pushed you onto your back beside him, quickly rolling to take his place between your legs. He spread your legs wide and rut his lower shaft against your soaked cunt.

“Relax for me, treasure,” Heat cooed, holding both cocks squeezed together in his hand and pressing the tips to your entrance. He was overly excited to bury both of his dicks inside you at once, but didn't want to hurt you by being too hasty. The tips slid inside you easily, the tapered ends meaning that the first quarter or so of his lengths only amounted to about the girth of his human cock. It was when he pushed in further that you began to feel the stretch, and you made a low groan as he bullied his cocks inside you. You gripped his forearms bruisingly tight as he stretched you out, his combined width being even greater than Wire's as he reached the thickest part. It was easier for him to press the rest in once you'd eased enough to accommodate, and Heat let out a stuttered breath as he stilled with his cocks deep inside you.

“Fuck, you're so perfect,” he groaned, “so good to me, my perfect treasure.”

“So.. so full,” you whined, “feels good, hnng.”

“Yeah? You like having both my cocks inside you? Stretching you out, like the good little slut you are?” Heat purred, slowly pulling most of the way out before sliding back in again. You made strained groans as he fucked you slowly, your belly bulging from how full you were, fingernails digging into his arms and back. “Fuck you take me so well.”

Heat was barely moving but you were so full that every inch of your inner walls were being pressed against, and it was driving you to madness. He'd hardly entered you and you already felt like you were going to cum again. Your legs wrapped around his tail at the same time as you grabbed his horns, and you pulled on them to bring his face closer, capturing his bottom lip with your teeth and tugging on it. “Harder,” you growled, “fuck me harder, Heat.”

“Fuck,” Heat groaned as he picked up his pace, the bed underneath you creaking with every thrust as you started to scream like a bitch in heat, the whole inn would no doubt hear you. Let them hear, you were in heaven, cock drunk as Heat fucked you hard, pulling what felt like endless orgasms from you as you cried out. “I wanna see you covered in cum,” Heat groaned, “can I finish on you?”

“Please,” you whined, “wanna- wanna be painted. Paint me Heat, give it to me.”

“You're such a good girl,” Heat cooed as he pulled one last orgasm from you, making you go limp as you panted, dazed and blissed out. He pulled his cocks from you, making you whine at the emptiness, before he held them in one hand and jerked himself off. Heat made deep grunts as he fisted himself, releasing volatile ropes of cum over your belly and breasts as he quivered above you. With a contented sigh he rolled to your side, breathing heavy next to you. Your hand lazily ran through the cum, rubbing it over your breasts as you sleepily groped at them before falling limp again.

“I thought you were taking a break,” Heat asked.

“I was, but I woke up horny,” you explained, “I'm always like this when I'm about to get my period. It'll probably come in a few hours.”

“Boo, that means Kid will want you staying with him,” Heat pouted.

“Oh? He's into period sex?” You asked.

“He likes blood,” Heat replied, in a tone that made you think he was a little confused that you didn't realise that.

“I could just not tell him,” you suggested mischievously.

“He'll smell it a mile away,” Heat sighed, “there's no avoiding it. He'll treat you good though, he's well practised with periods. You'll be spoiled for sure.”

“Well then,” you giggled, “I guess I can't complain about that. Though I get the feeling you'd spoil me too.”

“I'll spoil you after,” he promised, “my pretty treasure. In the meantime…” you giggled and squirmed as he leaned over and licked a long stripe up your belly, cleaning off a lot of his cum and tickling you in the process, “... I've got a few more hours until you get Kid-napped. But I'm gonna have to groom you first,” he made several more licks all over your breasts and tummy, “before I get you all messy again.”

A couple hours later and just as predicted, your period had come. Heat offered you some weed and more sex to help with the pain, which you happily accepted, resulting in a round of dizzying, giggly, shower sex. After that the two of you met up with Wire and Killer, the four of you heading off to do some shopping. Kid had ordered them to find you an appropriate weapon, and for your training to start as soon as the crew were back at sea. You knew you were good with a rifle, from all your hunting trips with your dad, so you were on the lookout for a suitable one. The boys had also noticed that you were decently strong, not to mention the potential of your armament haki, so they were also looking for a close combat weapon that took advantage of those strengths. You weren't very fast or agile though, so they also had to keep that in mind. The boys had high standards though, and it felt like it was going to take all day to find weapons they approved off. They couldn't decide on the type of weapon either - Killer wanted to train you with swords, Wire wanted to train you with something long like a spear, and Heat wanted you to get something that would just look cool and take advantage of your strength, like a battleaxe.

The rifle was the easier weapon to find, your eye caught by a beautiful single shot rifle, the wooden parts made from the blue stripes of one of Sabaody's giant mangroves, trimmed with silver metal that had been delicately engraved with florals. It was a beautiful gun, and close to what you were familiar with using back home. Right now it was slung over Heat's back - the boys wanted Kid to inspect it before you were allowed to use it. You felt a little like a princess with the way they were all treating you like some precious thing, it was nice to feel like they all had your safety in mind. Not to mention it was such a beautiful gun that they were worried someone would try to snatch it from you, and without knowing your fighting capabilities they didn't want to risk that.

Heat and Killer were currently debating a battle axe Heat had found, while on the other side of the store you followed Wire, who was examining the range of polearm weapons for sale. You hummed to yourself as you walked behind him; despite your cramps you were in a good mood, you felt truly special with the care the boys were taking to choose your weapons.

“Someone seems chipper,” Wire noted as he pulled a spear from the rack and inspected it, “have a good morning with Heat did we? We certainly all heard you, and by the sounds of it he either he fucked your brains out or murdered you, and I'm gonna guess it wasn't the later.”

“Actually, I'm feeling quite proud of myself,” you replied with a grin, “I took both of his dicks today.”

“Oh, in the same hole?” Wire put down the spear to give you his attention, this was far more interesting than weapon shopping.

“Yeah!” You smiled, running your hand down the staff of a halbert. Now that you looked at it, it was quite lovely. It was made from that same blue wood, and the silver axe-like blade featured ornate cut outs that could be mistaken for matching your gun. A weapon like this would give you a lot of options; it was long, so you could keep enemies a little further away, it had the blades either side for swinging motions that took advantage of your strength, and it had the long spear tip for stabbing motions. “What about this one?”

“I told you you could do it, good job, proud of you,” Wire pressed a kiss into your hair before looking at the halberd and pulling it from the rack, “Looks well made, I think this would suit you nicely.”

“And it matches my gun!” You beamed.

“It does indeed,” Wire offered a soft smile. He liked how enthusiastic you were about learning to fight, he appreciated someone willing to stand up for themselves instead of relying on others. As much as they were all treating you like some delicate, precious thing, Wire had high hopes for your fighting capabilities, and if you selected the halberd it meant he could train you himself. As much as your pussy was the hot commodity you were kept on board for, he was growing quite fond of you, and he didn't want to always be worrying about your safety when they got to the New World, so he'd make sure you had all the skills you needed to hold your own in battle. “If this is what you want, I'll teach you to use it. Give it a hold, see how the weight feels.”

Wire handed you the halberd and you held it with both hands, Wire gently shifting them to the correct positions along the staff. “Feels good, not too heavy,” you hummed, “I think I could work with this.”

“You look good with it,” Wire noted, “OI, KIL, HEAT, GET YOUR ASSES OVER HERE.”

Heat put the axe back on the rack and the two of them scurried over, playfully pushing each other as they moved. Wire made a gesture with his head for you to hand them the weapon, and Killer took it and looked over it carefully. “Not bad,” Killer mused, before handing it to Heat to look at, “This what you want?” Killer asked you.

“Yeah, I like it,” you replied as Heat handed it back.

“You look good with it,” Heat praised.

“That's what Wire said!” You giggled.

“I agree,” Killer added, “of course Kid will want to check it over, but I think we're good here.”

“Yay!” You squeaked, messing around with the weapon, “Look! I can stab AND slice! It's a two for one special! Yippee!”

“You're fucking adorable,” Heat laughed, ruffling your hair as the men made their way to the checkout counter, “you're gonna look so cute covered in our enemy's blood.”

“Aw, thanks Heat,” you smiled, standing on your tippy toes to kiss him on the cheek. Heat had a cute pink flush for the next hour, every now and then touching the spot on his cheek like he was remembering the feel of your lips there.

[Next Chapter] - coming soon

Hiatus Notice - Ship Full of Monsters will no longer be on scheduled Tuesday releases for a little while. There will be sporadic uploads when I have time until my real life chaos is over in about a month, thanks in advance for your patience ❤️ Once real life stuff is over it'll go back to being on a schedule~

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[ssailormoonn]

❛ REPUTATION ❜

YANDERE!Chrollo Lucilfer X Fem!Reader

WC; 900+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW :: chrollo is a yandere here, well he def ats like one, fem!reader, virgin!reader, AGE GAP, gonna say reader is around 18-20 bc she a virgin and a good girl, chrollo is still 26, possessiveness, claiming + more

⋆·˚ ༘ * REQUEST :: (filled request) Hi! Could you please write with yandere Chrollo and virgin female reader(she likes him, but didn’t want to be with him because of his reputation) - ANON

HONEY'S A/NOTE :: I WAS FEELING DIFFERENT DONT MIND THE PINK/PEACH THEME LMAO, lmk if you like it tho 👀

m.list | hxh m.list

You knew this was a mistake the moment you caught his eye.

Chrollo Lucilfer was the type of man who commanded attention. He's dark, unreadable, and dangerous. You'd been warned by friends, by acquaintances, by common sense to steer clear of him. None of them knew that he was the leader of the Phantom troupe, but they could tell that something was up with him.

You, on the other hand, knew very well who he was. He had made it loud and clear that should you ever leave or do anything rash, Chrollo was in a position to threaten you with all he could do. Every time being on duty with him, fear always boiled up inside your stomach.

But the fear that was evident within you, there was just something so irresistible about him, something that couldn't make you stay away no matter how much you did. Chrollo's presence causes your heart to beat in ways that it really shouldn't. You, however, because of his reputation, are to be kept from him.

But standing now in this darkened room, boxed in by his stare, one knew there was no more escaping Chrollo.

Not anymore.

"I know what you're thinking," his voice is like silk. "You're afraid of me, you think you can keep your distance because of what you've heard. But you forget one thing."

He leans in closer, each movement intentional. His dark eyes never left yours, staring with an intensity that would make you want to shrink under his gaze, at the same time you wouldn't be able to look away.

"You want me, too."

Your breath had caught in your throat. How could he know? You'd tried so hard to conceal it, to deny the pull you felt whenever you were near him. It was wrong, all wrong. But his tone made it sound as though you had no say in the matter.

"Chrollo, I... I can't." Your voice less than a whisper. "You're dangerous. I don't want to get involved in. whatever this is. whatever you do."

He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face, and the touch sent your heart racing even faster. You suck in the air shakily while your lip trembled softly.

"I know that's hard to accept," he whispered, almost softly. "But I've made my decision already. You are mine. "

There was a finality in his words that dropped the bottom of your stomach into a sick feeling. This wasn't a silly love confession, this... this was more like he was claiming you. And much as you tried to deny it, the thought stirred something within you.

"Chrollo, I... I am not." You had managed to stammer out the words while a hot fire had burned in your cheeks.

How would you even explain that you have never been with anybody in your life? That part of you does want him, but the fear of his world and your inexperience holds you back? You have never done a relationship in your life, never kissed anyone, never touched anyone, never had sex.

His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze once more. Something... changed in his gaze.

"You're scared of what you don't know," he whispered. "That's okay. I can be patient. But don't you ever think otherwise. I will have you. Every piece of you."

His hand slid down, stroking your jawline, and a chill ran down your body. There was no hesitation in his touch, no doubt in his claim over you. It was terrifying and yet you enjoyed it.

"You can run from me if you want," he said, continuing now in a voice so much lower it terrified you. "But I'll find you. Always get what I want."

Your chest constricted as Chrollo left you no choice. He made it clear no matter what you did, he would find you and when he did. he would take you in every sense of the word.

"I. I don't want to be a part of your world," you finally stammered out, beyond your shaking lips. "I can't."

He chuckled low and it was a shiver you felt run over your skin under his touch. "It doesn't matter. You're already a part of it. The moment I laid eyes on you, it was over. For both of us."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words died in your throat as he leaned in, his lips caressing the shell of your ear.

"Accept it, love," he whispered. "You can't get away from me. Not now, not ever." "N-" Chrollo cut you off, his lips trailing up your neck, his voice low, humming against your skin. "You don't struggle against me. I'm going to take care of you. No one else can have you now. Can't you see? You're already mine, and nothing you say will change that."

His breathing was hot against your skin, the weakness rising inside you as the fear coiled in your body. But despite that, despite all you knew of him, the fact that he wanted you with such intent sent your heart racing within your chest.

Honestly, could you resist?

He drew back just enough to look into your eyes, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. He knew. Your gaze betrayed your thoughts, and he noticed, of course he fucking noticed.

"You're mine," he leans down, his warm breath dancing across your ear as your hands clench into fists against his black suit, trembling. "And I will make sure you never forget it."

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | hxh m.list

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just One Reason: New at This

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

masterlist - to be added

Summary: A chance encounter at the sandwich shop doesn’t end how you expect.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Lloyd tugs in his ear lobe as you get up to take your empty bowl to the counter. The lone cashier smiles and gives a nervous look past you to the corner. You return to the table and wonder if he has a reputation here. You wouldn't be surprised with his behaviour. 

"Is your ear alright?" You ask as you take the cup of iced tea. 

"Huh?" He turns to you and drops his hand. "Yeah, hearing's f-- off. Just got back from a job and... the machinery was loud." 

"Hm, it could be a busted ear drum. I know someone who had that. He never could hear me but that coulda been the TV too," you shrug. 

"It's fine," he taps his fingers on the table as you stay standing. "So, you headed out?" 

"Yeah, I guess I should. Getting dark." 

"Right," he nods. "Well," he stands and tugs at the bottom of his shirt, shaking off the crumbs. "You need a ride?" 

He zips up his jacket, the collar ending just below his chin. You button up your blue houndstooth coat. "No, I can make it." 

"Wait, you're not walking are you?" He asks as he gathers up the wrapper and napkins. 

"Not too far if I cut behind the barbershop--" 

"Cut behind-- are you serious? You can't be walking down alleys in the dark. Trust me." 

"Oh?" You give him a curious look, "you hang out in dark alleyways a lot?" 

His brow tweaks and his lips twitch, "is that a joke?" 

"Not a very good one," you smile. "I always make it." 

"And this might be the time you don't. Least I can do. You bought me dinner, I feel like I owe you a ride." 

"You don't owe me anything," you assure him. 

"Huh, you're too nice, you know that? You could give a guy the wrong idea." l

"No, I don't think so," you sigh. "Being nice isn't anything but. I hope your enjoyed your dinner." 

"You know what? The chipotle wasn't bad," he says. "So now that's two things. I owe you for paying and for the good advice. What's that you said about paying it forward?" 

Checkmate. Using your own words against you. As it is, you're starting to feel rude for saying no so many times. It would be nice not to have to walk home with your phone light on. 

"Is taking a ride from a strange man better than walking home alone?" You ask, "since you're the expert?" 

"Wow, you can be mean," he snorts. "Reading me like a book." 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m kidding.” 

“I know, tootsie roll,” he says, “sweet like candy, aren’t ya?” 

You smile again, “well, you can be too. I’ll take the ride. Thank you.” 

He dumps the garbage in the bin and heads for the door. He lets you out ahead of him. It’s colder than when you got there. 

“It’s cold as... hell out here,” he says follows you out. He points you ahead, “the white one.” 

He blows into his hands and rubs them together. You’re no fan of the cold either but you can see his nose already turning red. You approach the white car; it’s sleek and shiny. You’re not sure what make it is but it must be expensive. 

The doors click loudly, “should be unlocked.” 

You nod and open the passenger door. You sit daintily, wary of the luxury interior. You shut the door just as carefully as he gets in the other side. He grumbles as he starts the engine and flicks switches. 

“Get those seat warmers on,” he says. “Ah, better.” He puts his palms to the blast of warmth from the vent before he grips the wheel. “Help me out, tootsie roll, where am I going?” 

“Right down to Harbour. East.” 

“Harbour East... you kidding me? You were really going to walk there alone?” He scoffs. 

“It’s not so bad once you get to know the area,” you say.  

“How’d you end up there?” He pulls into a three point turn as he reroutes. 

“I guess it’s just where I am right now. Thing’s changed fast and I had to make it work,” you lean into the seat. You’ve never been in a car with seat warmers. 

“Huh, that’s too bad,” he clucks. “You still looking for a place? I know a guy, owns a few properties...” 

“Oh no, it’s okay,” you hum lightly. “Really. It’s nice. I got my own space, I got food, I’m happy as can be.” 

“Simple things, so I’ve heard,” he mutters. 

You let a lull wash over you. Judging by his car, simple isn’t exactly to his taste. 

“So...” you brush your fingertips over your palm, “what do you do for work? You travel? When you mentioned your ear...” 

“Ah, yeah, er,” he squeezes the wheel tighter and coughs, “you know, I’m on the road when I need to be. Work can be sporadic but pays well enough. Specialty type of work.” 

“With loud machinery...” 

“Military engineer. You know, artillery, tanks... whatever,” he peeks over at you as blows through a four-way. 

“Hey, you missed the stop sign,” you crane to see behind you. 

“It’s fine, no one was crossing,” he says. 

“Yeah but... it’s not safe.” You turn forward again and frown. 

He’s quiet again. He sucks his teeth, “fine, you’re right. Not fair of me to offer you a ride then drive like a maniac. I’ll do better.” 

You let out a breath and subtly grab onto the door. Despite his promises, he doesn’t let off the gas. With how quiet the car is, it must be easy to go over the limit.  

He pulls onto Harbour and finally slows, “so, uh, why don’t you give me a call next time you head down to the shop? We could do it again. I’ll be nice this time.” 

“I don’t go too often but sure, I could use a friend,” you perk up and direct him to your building. 

“You telling me you don’t got friends, tootsie roll?” He stops in front of your apartment. 

“I... did. They’re gone now,” you look away. You try not to get to wistful about it. “Anyway, thanks--” 

“Holy f—moley,” he corrects himself as he leans forward to see around you, “this place can’t be up to code--” 

“Lloyd,” you blurt out. “I’m fine. Really. Home safe. Thanks to you.” 

“Mhm, well, friends are supposed to worry about each other, right?” 

“And as your friend, I’m telling you not to worry,” you smile and pull the handle, “have a good night.” 

He huffs as you undo your seat belt, “yeah, good night.” 

[thebluester2020]

[TWST] "In Another Reality"

Summary: After returning to your original world, you swore that you wouldn't miss anyone there. Especially a certain someone, yet despite the ache you get in your chest when you think about that world. You can't help but reminisce on the moment you fell in love with a draconic prince.

Warning(s): Angst, Yuu!Reader is in their original world, Inspired By Anastasia's "Once Upon A December", Wholesome, Fluff, Malleus being all princely in true Disney fashion.

Side Note(s): I love Leona but after seeing the absolute masterpieces that folks write for Malleus + just recently finishing Anastasia. I gotta throw my hat in the ring too 😔

Also, I struggled between titling this "Once Upon A Dream" or "Once Upon A December". I only went with the first option cause it fits the theme of this fic. 😔

How was it that you could miss a world that wasn't originally your own?

For the last week or so, since you had arrived back to your original world. You've been trying to figure out the answer to this question while also trying to get used to "normalcy" once again. No longer did you have a mouthy talking cat next to you at every turn, calling you "henchman" and practically clawing your leg whenever he wanted tuna. No longer did you hear the chiming of multiple bells across a large campus that was all boys, you were a tad bit unnerved by it at first but...then it simply became an everyday thing.

You had even missed the friends you had made there. Ace and Deuce were the first ones you thought of immediately when you arrived back home.

They were always there for you when the loneliness and longing for your old home grew too much, immediately, they would rush over to your dorm and stay with you until you were having too much fun to be sad anymore.

Oh, and despite the constant smell of mold and dampness. You missed Ramshackle Dorm strangely enough.

You welcomed the constant sounds more than the silence of your own room to be frank.

Grimm's quiet snores as he slept by your head aside, the walls of Ramshackle were often filled with the noises of the local ghosts that haunted the building. On some days, you'd hear laughter, other days the ghosts would argue and yell at one another for the most strangest of reasons. And other, more rarer times? They were silent.

But you enjoyed it when they made noise.

All of it combined into a unique lullaby that made you feel right at home and sometimes made you chuckle in your sleep at the antics they tried to keep down.

Yet...all of this dulled in comparison to the love you held in your heart, then and now, for the draconic prince Malleus. Perhaps it was cliche to say but you enjoyed everything about him, you enjoyed his fascination with gargoyles and his gentle nature. You enjoyed how sweet he was with you when it was just the two of you, how the tips of his ears would turn pink when you complimented him, how—you just missed him.

Even more so now that you remember that...you were supposed to go to a ball that he invited you to. One located in his homeland of Briar Valley, you remembered how you stressed to Grimm about how excited and nervous you were. You needed the best dress in the world if you were going to a ball that a prince personally invited you to!

A little late to feel bad.

A little late to be upset that you wouldn't be able to go but...that's what dreams were for, right? Imagining the impossible and wondering about what could've been. So, you did just that, imagine.

| Somewhere In Briar Valley... |

Your heart was threatening to beat out of your chest as you stood along the pathway that led up to the large mansion where the ball was being held. An intimidating structure made of dark stone, gargoyles stationed in front of the giant doors like unmoving guardians whilst the eerie windows, long vines and moss blanketing them halfway but not too much to where you weren't able to see the golden light that emitted from within.

Even from where you stood, being passed by all manner of fae-folk alike. You could hear the enchanting music, soft violins, and the haunting keys of the piano playing the lower notes. "Should I have even gone to this thing?" You murmured to yourself as you continued up the steps, the clacks of your heels only serving to make you more nervous as you held up your dress just enough to where you wouldn't accidentally trip and make a fool of yourself.

Even if the prince of this valley personally invited you. You still stuck out like a sore thumb!

A human walking up the way to a mansion where a ball was being held.

Briefly, even, you wondered if some type of cruel prank was being played on you by Malleus. Perhaps the second you stepped inside, you'd be greeted by everyone inside immediately staring at you and then laughing, would Malleus join in the laughter at your foolishness for thinking that you'd have the chance to dance with a prince? Would he call you out and even dare to make you say how excited you were to be invited—

No. No.

Malleus wouldn't ever think to do that you. The same man who loved to rant to you about the history of gargoyles and how they've been used throughout history, the same man who would flush at the tips of his ears when you gave him a compliment— "Y/N." A familiar voice called out for you at the top of the steps.

You couldn't help the smile that immediately came onto your face as you stopped to look at Malleus. Was it appropriate to bow to him at this moment? As the other fae-folk passed him by, they made sure to bow as they did so! "O-Oh!" You said before you bowed. Then, you felt a hand on your shoulder before you steadily looked up to see Malleus smiling at you.

"Please, don't."

"Everyone else is doing it," You said with a shy giggle. "It felt right."

The fae prince shook his head with a sigh before he offered his arm for you to loop your own with. "You are my honored guest for tonight, I personally invited you. I don't need you to bow to me."

You mentally rolled your eyes at how sweet he was being towards you, your mouth opening to retort back to him until...you immediately lost your train of thought once you were inside of the mansion. Although it reminded you of a mansion on the outside, it seemed like the entire inside of the building had been made specifically for ballroom dancing. The open floor was huge and appeared to be made out of gold (although you were certain it was just colored marble), with people of all manner of species and races dancing and spinning around! Farther out in front of you, to the right, the musicians was playing the music on a slightly heightened stage.

"Do I look alright?" You said as you looked down at yourself, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

Malleus tilted his head at your question, as if the answer was obvious. "You look beautiful." He reassured you before leading you to a buffet table where all manners of drink and food were being served. You didn't know if you were oozing nervousness or not but...you appreciated him not immediately leading you to the dance floor and allowing you to adjust via stuffing your face with all of the delicious foods. "I am glad you accepted my invitation." Malleus commented as you took a bite of a frosted cookie, your eyes practically gaining stars in them at the taste.

After wiping your lips, however, you chuckled at the prince's words. "I would be stupid to decline." You laughed. "A personal invitation to a ball from a prince? Isn't that every person's dream more or less?"

"Had I known that such a thing was a goal for you, I would have done it sooner. These events happen often in the valley."

You blushed. "Well...thanks but, hopefully, you'll come with me? I mostly came because I wanted to hang out with you more." And tell you that I like you, is what you thought in the back of your mind as you watched Malleus' eyes widen before a handsome smile graced his features. You wanted to tell him that you liked him so badly that it nearly hurt you.

But all too often, you'd crush your confidence underneath a foot made of "What ifs?".

What if Crowley found a way for you to go home tomorrow?

What if Malleus didn't like you back?

What if he was engaged?! You knew that royalty had a tendency to do that, arranged marriages and all that. The last thing you wanted to do was accidentally cross a royal and make your life in this strange world even harder than what it already was from time to time! But...you were certain that, had Malleus had a fiance of some sort, he would have mentioned them. He would have brought them instead of you.

So you focused on your main worry.

Home.

You didn't know what would hurt you more. Telling him that you liked him and then promptly had to choose between going home or staying in this world with him or keeping your feelings close to your chest and constantly wondering about what ifs— "You're really in your thoughts today, aren't you? What's going on in your mind, perhaps I can alleviate them?"

You shook your head. "It's-It's nothing." You said before the lights suddenly dimmed.

"The slow dance is about to begin, shall we?" Without a moment of hesitancy, you took his offered hand before he led you to the middle of the dance floor.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, I'm going based on the movies but...aren't slow dances supposed to happen later in the night?"

An embarrassed squeak escaped your lips as you felt the fae's other hand wrap around your waist, steadily pulling you in until the both of you were nearly chest to chest. And, he smelled good...like mint and spring rain mixed with a touch of something stronger. Yet, as Malleus smiled at your embarrassment, he did his best to avoid making you blush even harder for the sake of you. "It's late," He answered simply. "Fae parties, especially our balls, they start later in the night. More opportunity to see the stars and witness the fireflies at their most beautiful."

You felt a certain tinge in your chest at the words of "It's late".

You didn't want this night to end so soon.

"Well..." You licked your lips as you tried to find your words as Malleus took the lead in your dance, his hand tight around your own as he kept his eyes focused on you. "...I-I don't want this night to end so soon." You admitted.

"Neither do I," He admitted.

As if time froze...and maybe it was cliche to say but, it felt like it was just the two of you in the entire ballroom when he said that. All of a sudden, the music became a gentle buzz in the background and the people around you faded into meaningless blurs. Yet, it only enhanced the rapid beating in your chest as you mind waged war with itself about whether or not to confess your feelings here in the now or to continue to keep it to yourself.

You gulped. "M-Malleus."

"Yes?" God you wished he wouldn't smile like he did whenever you said his name, you wished his eyes wouldn't appear to brighten up like lights on a tree whilst gaining a look that...you thought was excitement, a certain expectancy of something in particular.

"How- S-Sorry if I'm such a bad dancer." Way to blow it brain. "I should've taken dance classes beforehand,"

He laughed quietly as his arm around your waist tightened ever so slightly as the two of you spun a couple of times before you fell back into a gentle two-step, back and forth, back and forth. "I think you're a fine dancer, perhaps not as experienced as myself but good." He joked.

"I don't think there's anyone in this world that can match your skill."

"I don't know," Your eyes widened a little when his face got closer to your own. You were certain he could see your face turning as red as an apple with how close he was. "I think you would be able to catch up to me in no time if...if you continued to remain by my side."

Was he...? "Malleus?"

Suddenly, the two of you stopped dancing, Malleus' hand falling from your waist to take up holding your other hand as he gained a pleading look in his eyes, one that you had never seen before. "Child of man, I would prefer you to be frank with me. Something is on your mind, please tell me."

As if a dam had suddenly been torn open, all the water had rushed out as you quickly found your ability to speak to the prince. "I like you—no, I love you. I know it." You blurted out.

"I...I don't know how long I'll remain in this world but, I wish I could've spent it with you. I never should have—"

"Y/N." He interrupted. "What are you—"

"I didn't get a chance to tell you that I liked you beforehand, I just wanted to do this before—" You looked at the clock that hung on a wall behind Malleus.

One minute before midnight.

One kiss. That's all you wanted and swore you forget everything about Twisted Wonderland, that you would move on with your life and never think about Malleus again. Just one kiss.

"Do you love me Malleus? If you do...please kiss me, please." You begged as tears began to brim your eyes. The prince's eyes were as wide as the moon that hung in the sky outside. But...he had wanted to kiss you since the moment he figured out what this emotion in his chest was, he had been waiting so patiently for you to admit your feelings towards him. So, despite his curiosity at how eager you were all of a sudden. He leaned towards you and—

You were awake.

Your eyes snapped open to look at the dark ceiling above your bed.

No ballroom music or dancing fae-folk around you. The taste of the cookies you had "eaten" just a few minutes earlier were suddenly gone and left your mouth feeling dry and parched. Before you had awoken, you could've sworn that you left a wisp of Malleus' lips on your own and...they felt like pillows upon your own. But, this cruel reality...to know that everything was only just a dream, a whisper of another reality you could have lived.

It hurt.

And all you could do now?

It was to cry yourself into a dreamless slumber.

[beatrixstonehill2]

Veronica was enjoying her time at a pool in a luxurious hotel when a woman named Gina approached her, eyeing her in an accusatory way. "What do you think you're doing?" Gina asked.

"What do you mean?" Veronica asked in a soft, feminine voice.

"Disgusting, another dumb little fakegirl here to ogle us real women and fantasize about doing god knows what to us."

"Huh!? No, I think you made a mistake, I--"

Gina pulled off Veronica's clothes, starting with her top, revealing her large breasts for everyone to see, then pulled off her bottoms, sizing the disrobed girl up. "Well, well, well, look what we have here." Gina said, shaking her head at the sight of Veronica's small cock held in place with body tape.

"There's no rules against trans girls staying here! I.... wasn't ogling anyone or being a perv! I just haven't gotten around to removing my cock...."

"Uh-huh, heard it a million times, princess. You're so disgusting. I saw you when you arrived yesterday. Since you don't pass whatsoever it was obvious you were a boy. Since then I've caught you filming pregnant girls in bikinis on your phone, filming upskirts, staring at countless girls' asses and breasts, you accidentally bumped into and touched the breasts of about a dozen girls staying here, and I even caught you rubbing your cock through your bikini as you watched that group of pregnant college girls celebrating their victory in some gymnastics competition. I also followed you in the bathroom and heard you jerking off."

"Ummmm..... it's.... not true? I didn't mean to..... those girls were really hot and showing off their moves, their breasts kept falling out and oh my god their asses were so juicy and fat--oh!" Veronica covered her mouth, her cock throbbed against the tape holding it in place.

"You poor perverted boy. Let mommy take you in and take care of you. Show you some discipline. Wouldn't you like that?"

"Ummm......would I have to stop being a girl?"

"Idiot. You aren't a girl now. Just a confused, perverted boy.... Come on, let me help break you free of your confusion, OK?"

Veronica nodded, taking Gina's hand as she walked her naked through the hotel, back to her room....

"It's been a year since I met my mistress, Gina, and detransitioned for her, finally giving up my perverted fantasy of being a girl. Gina started by making me get rid of my "breasts", which were just oversized moobs that grew unnaturally big because my parents tricked me into taking synthetic hormones because I liked dressing as a girl. Now they're growing back because my mistress funnel feeds me so much.... if they look too much like a girl's breasts Mistress Gina says she'll make me get another reduction.

I used to goon in private to so many pretty girls online, and I was something of a voyeur.... I also took a new guy home almost every night, I'd go to all kinds of nice hotels and sleep with as many men as possible, while watching all the pretty rich girls..... But now Gina controls when I'm allowed to cum. Only after I do good and meet my monthly weight gain milestones and don't complain when she pegs me with her.... intimidatingly big strap ons. I'm just her boy-toy hog who only exists to fatten for her amusement, until she gets bored of me, which she told me she will. I never get to fuck her of course, only watch her get fucked or peg other girls, as well as a bunch of other former t-girls she forced to detransition.

I have to stuff my face and eat as I watch her have an active sex life, if I slow down she stops what she's doing to scold me or paddle me if I'm really disobedient. She makes eye contact with me the whole time she pegs or gets fucked, never with her partner. She just watches me eat and encourages me to keep stuffing my dumb, hog mouth and get nice and fat so I can cum like a good boy. It's kind of funny but she's way more perverted than I ever was as as trans girl.... even if I was pretty out of control. Now I have no choice but to get as fat as possible for my mistress until she finally gets bored with me and drops me off at my parents' house.... That's going to be a fun conversation. Telling them I detransed after living as a girl since the second grade, and got so fat I can't walk.... Hope they don't mind taking care of me and keep me as well fed as Mistress Gina.... Fuck, I've got to stop thinking about it or I might accidentally cum. I've been getting punished enough lately.... Keeping Mistress Gina satisfied gets harder and harder the fatter I get, I can barely keep up with my weight gain goals, but having Mistress Gina jerk me off at the end of every month makes it all worth it. Her eyes staring into mine as she calls me a gross, disgusting boy who never passed as a girl, and a fat useless hog who's never gonna make a girl cum, who's gonna be too fat to fuck or masturbate.... I cum soooo fast, then she makes me lick the cum off her hand, afterwards she slaps me and tells me to do better next month, that I'm gaining pathetically slow.... I have to do better for my mistress. I already can't even remember ever being a fakegirl with big bouncy tits......"

[fanfic-writer-and-rambler]

Harley Quinn, former bad guy, anti-hero and unemployed therapist chases after Nightwing (Dick Grayson) as he tries to get away from her while on patrol.

Nightwing: Stop chasing me!

Harley: Then have a chat with me!

Nightwing: How did you find me!

Harley: Babs told me.

Nightwing stops running causing Harley to halt her running as well. He puts his index finger up and presses his communication device.

Nightwing: Babs, what the heck?

Oracle: She begged me and I can't say no when she pinpoints my mental health issues! Just let her spend some time with you.

Nightwing looks down at Harley who has a big smile on her face. He runs the other direction as Poison Ivy walks over to the group while watching 'Little Shop of Horrors' on her phone.

Ivy: He caved yet?

Harley: Not now, babes. Follow me.

Harley chasses after Nightwing. Her girlfriend casually walked behind her.

Harley: Stop running! Why are you running?!

Nightwing: Because I don't want you touching me! I am not a piece of meat!

Harley: I'm sorry, I wasn't aware you were uncomfortable with the butt smacks!

Nightwing: I was very vocal about it!

Harley: Do you think that stems with some trauma in your past?

Nightwing: Stop therapizing me!

Ivy (pausing her movie): This is the smartest approach, Harley.

Harley: Ivy, not now!

Nightwing runs around Ivy and uses her as shield, then shoves her on Harley.

Nightwing: You chasing me doesn't prove your point.

Harley (pushing Ivy off of her): Let me make amends.

Nightwing(whining): NOOOO!

Harley: I made a full bill of health at Arkham. And I may not have the diploma, but I can be your-

Nightwing (in angry romani): Me sem bahtalo tumare progresosa, numaj te aven dur mandar!

Harley: What?

Nightwing stops at a fence and turns to Harley.

Nightwing: I said, "I am happy with your progress, but stay away from me for now!" It... It will take some time. Okay?

Nightwing jumps a fence and keeps running.

Nightwing (over his shoulder): Bye!

Ivy: See ya, kid.

Harley: But... Shit!

Harley tries to climb the fence, but Ivy, best friend and girlfriend uses a vine on her hip before she jumps the fence.

Ivy: Harley, don’t do that impulsive thought.

Harley: But they need a therapist. All of them, Jacey ran from me, now Nightwing? Why can’t I catch a break?

Ivy: If I may, it has something to do with working with the joker, who killed one of them, tortures the batfamily on an annual basis... oh and you won’t take a hint to give them space.

Harley glares at her girlfriend.

Harley: It was a rhetorical question!

Ivy (chuckling dryly): Aww, Harls, you know I don’t care about that. He did say it takes time, he's saying you have a chance, but at this moment of time, no. Remember I’m not dumb either. I worked more in science for botany over what you do, but I can see when someone doesn’t want to talk or want your therapy services.

Harley groans, bending back: You’re right, I’ll give 'em space. Plus you didn't say I slept with my professor.

Ivy: Please, you wouldn't degrade yourself like that... Get with a homicidal lunatic who thinks clown makeup is scary, but you are not the type who tries to get easy A’s in school.

Harley: Damn straight!

[kanrix]

AGE REGRESSION CLAY HEADCANON TIME OOO BOY.. I may or may not have some yapping to do about this..

First off, I saw the 2 tags specifically on the answer you gave that caught my attention. I do feel Clay definitely bites his nails or his thumb.. With age regression (spoken from someone who has an issue with this) I definitely think he does suck his thumb or gnaw at it a little if he's overstimulated in a way.. specifically in fetal position. I may just be saying this out of solely what I do but.. yeah.

The whole urine thing as well. I think like the bed wetting definitely has something to do with age regression and bladder issues due to overuse of alcohol, being a responsive thing that just kind of happens reflexively.. most likely with a nightmare or something.

Also think he does things subconsciously while he's asleep like for one, clinging onto his pillow as well as tossing and turning. I think he gets restless while asleep, and maybe that's why he ends up responding that way. (bed wetting, being restless, etc.)

There's another thing that could fall into the restless category but I may return to that sometime after this ask.

I don't really want to get into the egg thing because. first off since its uncomfortable a bit for me to talk about myself and. also since Sinvilles could do a better analyzation post about it than anyone, i fear.

with clays hair curl I have a few random things with that. that could very likely be tagged on with this in a way maybe. I think he may have had a habit of twirling that thing a bit..

I think he had issues at school with bullying and constantly tried to get attention and make himself the rage bait.. clearly it ends up working. He'd go home bloodied a lot to Aurther and he'd brush it off, not care, almost scold him for it, but then stopping himself, pretend not to notice, or just not notice entirely.

which made clays sacrifice rant happen, specifically because he wanted that attention again and wasn't able to get. which maybe could be why he kept his distance from Orel, just because of how his father was absent for a while after giving clay old gunny. and he didn't want to look at Orel because he felt mad at Orel and himself a little because he wasn't 'Man' enough and Clay himself couldn't make him something he saw himself in. so it made him feel the need to be distant with something he didn't feel connected to, felt more like Blobertas child than his own.

"weak, and passive. and ultimately broken by the ones who were made the fittest!! and that through your weaknesses you built up a poison.. that poisoned others around you.. that you loved. and the only true justice was to let those dominant jackals feed on you.. survive of you."

I truly believe he was age regressing here. back to when he would try so desperately to get his fathers attention that he craved and somehow failed no matter what he did. and he let everyone pick on him and make himself stand out specifically because it would make him feel at least some sort of affection other than being ignored. negative attention is still attention nonetheless right?

There's still more too it than that I just need more time to get my thoughts collected..

extra little side note ::

with clays hair curl I have a few random things with that age regression that could very likely be tagged on with this in a way maybe. I think he may have had a habit of twirling that thing a bit..

Clearly the more reasoned option being he snipped off a chunk of his hair when he was younger so it just never grew out enough and it just kinda just wouldn't stay back.. either that or he does his hair every morning and tries to make his hair perfect every morning cuz he's kind of a freak when it comes to that I think..

[sevsbestfriend]

In a world where Severus and Lily stay friends till their 7th year but lily is still dating James.

"Mrs Evans how have you been?"

"Severus! It's been so long. I am great how have you been? Lily tells me you have been doing very well in school"

"I suppose my performance has been adequate. Thank you for the tea, it is delicious.

"It's chamomile, dear. I..I needed to ask you something.

"Of course, what is it?"

"I...well with Lily dating already and uh...this is awkward. Please say no if it makes you uncomfortable but would you mind going on a date with Petunia?"

"Uh..excuse me?"

"I know I am being nosy but she has been really lonely lately and...I just.."

Severus owed quite a bit to the Evans family. He thought it wouldn't be that big of a deal to go on a single date. Besides Petunia would probably say no on her own when she finds out anyways.

It was quite a shock when, not only did Petunia not refuse she was on her best behavior and seemed to be really into it. She dressed to the nines, always had a smile on her face and laughed at his shitty jokes.

It was an even bigger shock that Lily seemed to be quite jealous of the whole situation.

"Sev she's my sister!"

"I promise I will be on my best behavior and not hurt her."

"She hates me! Why would you go out with her!!"

"Like you going out with the boy who tormented me?"

"So you really weren't fine with me going out with him??"

"Of course I wasn't but it's not up to me who you date! And who I date isn't up to you either!"