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theanimeroom · 1 year ago

Note

Hiii, one of isagi being such a cutie and respectful boyfriend BUT then in reader's birthday she wishes "world peace and being fucked by his cute bf" and then good boy isagi let her perv side out 🛐🛐🛐

yes 🫡

bf!isagi yoichi who was terrified of PDA when you two first got together. you assured him that it was fine, the two of you didn’t have to go farther than holding hands or occasional kisses whenever he felt comfortable. he still hesitated every time his fingers laced between yours though, his face turning bright red and his eyes always being unable to meet yours.

he always saw you as his little treasure, and he wanted all eyes away from you because you belong to him <3. he was used to being in the spotlight with his career, but he never wanted to drag you into it. there were probably several talks about making your relationship public, to which you didn’t mind, but isagi didn’t share the same sentiment.

he wanted you to himself, wanted to make sure that no one else even considered trying to make moves on you without having his fangirls trying to pick you apart. he’s a major homebody, believe it or not. whenever nagi or bachira would beg for him to come out he always opted to stay in the house with you, watching movies and eating candy so sweet you swore your teeth should have fallen out by now.

his love for you and natural reclusiveness only skyrocketed the day you opened your eyes to a platter being placed under your nose, the smell of fresh, crispy bacon and toast filling your sensing before you could even register what day it was.

“happy birthday!” his sweet voice was the first thing you got to hear, a sleepy smile stretching across your face. his eyes were big and filled with happiness as he watched you attempt to sit up, rubbing the rest of your fatigue away with your hands. when your breakfast was placed in front of you a small giggle broke through your yawn at the preparations. there were around 8 strips of bacon on the plate, along with scrambled eggs, a couple halves of toast and a blueberry muffin with a little candle wick placed on top. “i made your favorite.”

“did you?” you giggled, feeling your heart swell at the hopeful expression on isagi’s face. your boyfriend was always so sweet, almost sickeningly so sometimes. he was typically all forehead kisses and soft touches, like you were a porcelain doll. even in bed, he preferred making love to anything else, it made him feel like he was appreciating you for all that you were worth. you loved it of course, adored it even. it’s what made you fall in love with him in the first place, but sometimes you couldn’t help but feel like you wanted….more.

you’d seen isagi on the field. you knew the kind of stamina, passion, and drive he had when it came to crushing his opponents, you just wished that sometimes he’d come home and crush you instead.

so when your sweet, innocent, loving boyfriend told you to make a wish on the muffin candle, you didn’t even have to ponder on your wish. leaning in with shielded vision, you spoke your wish with a sly smile on your face. “i wish for world peace and to be fucked by the undeniably hot boyfriend.”

when you looked at your boyfriend, his eyes were as wide as saucers. you were his sweet girl, and he’d never even considered being even remotely rough with you because of it. but alas, there was only so much strength a man could have after hearing that slip from your lips.

and that’s exactly how you ended up here, with your ass angled in the air and your moans muffled by the fabric of your pillowcase. there was one hand pressed against the back of your head, pushing you further into the bed when his other hand held down your arm against your back. your plea’s and moans fell on deaf ears though, the only thing on isagi’s mind being the filth that he’s spewing your way.

“aww, is this what my sweet baby wished for? wanted to be treated like a little slut, huh?” he punctuated his question with a hard thrust, hips flesh against your ass.

you wailed in the pillow, but a broken response didn’t seem to be enough for the man above you. with a brash tug his fingers were in your hair, tugging until your neck was strained and your teary eyes were looking back at him. his thrusts never slowed down still hitting all the spots that’s make you twitch and see those pretty little stars in the corner of your vision. “good little whores are supposed to answer when they’re spoken to, aren’t they?”

“y-yes!!” your voice was strained, body weak from pleasure although you tried to follow his instructions. your body shuffled, trying to push back against him but only receiving a rough slap on the flesh of your ass in response. his fingers dug into the skin as he leaned down, lips grazing the shell of your ear.

the air sent a shiver down your spine, your mind only filled with thoughts of him. his voice was light, the power of his thrusts leaving you both breathless. “my baby seems to be getting a little greedy,” he chuckled, a soft grunt slipping through at the wet patch staining the pillow, a string of drool leaving his eyes rolling to the back of his head. “but since it’s your birthday, i’ll let you off the hook.”

your back arched as isagi bottomed out inside of you, hips flush against your ass, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. you moaned, trying your hardest to fuck yourself back onto him and chase the tingling feeling that permeated your toes and fingertips. you could barely breathe with the way he was fucking you, and if you weren’t in love with he man before this, you definitely were now.

“you know i love you right, baby?” isagi asked, grinning when you frantically nodded your head. he wasn’t even sure if you’d heard what he said to you, your eyes glazed over and breathing so labored that he laced his fingers in your hair and pulled your face out of the pillow. “you still with me sweet girl?”

“uh huh,” you groaned, pushing your hips back in hopes for him to fuck you more rather than talk. with a chuckle, isagi wrapped a hand around your waist.

“good, because you won’t be in a second,” were the last words he said before forcing his cock in as far as it could go. the sounds of skin against skin reverberated around the room, combined with the broken whimpers coming from you and the occasional moan and groan from isagi.

the knot in your stomach tightened as he prodded that one spot inside of you, causing the muscles in your body tense as your body started to succumb to the pleasure.

“gonna come for me baby?” the man above you asked, landing a harsh smack against the side of your ass. a guttural moan left you at the sensation, the sight of your cunt creaming his cock only causing his pace to quicken. with another smack you were wailing out a positive response, thighs trembling as they tried to keep your body upright. “wanna feel the birthday girl come all over me, you can do that pretty, right?”

isagi didn’t have to say another word, the simple request being all you needed to let the waves of pleasure take over your body with a strangled moan. isagi let out a moan of his own at the way you squeezed around him, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he bottomed out, eyes rolling as ropes of come painted your inner walls.

isagi breathed heavily into your ear, the sensation tickling your skin just enough to make you shuffle underneath him.

“mmm baby,” you spoke lowly, turning your head so your face wasn’t plastered into the pillow. the male above you hummed, eyes closed in bliss as he came down from his high. it took you a second before you were able to respond, still trying your hardest to catch your breath. when you did respond though, the words slipped from you with a smile.

“can this be my birthday present every year?”

don’t plagiarize! it’s not nice <3

theanimeroom

#in honor of my birthday being last week #i wil be posting this draft that i’ve been cooking w #my writing skills have gone in the trash since my break i’m #i’m trying to get better 😭😭#not proof read either so sorry for mistakes!#blues asks 💎#blues anons 💙#blue lock smut #blue lock #isagi yoichi #isagi yoichi smut #isagi smut #isagi x reader #blue lock isagi smut

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pastorpresent · 10 months ago

Text

Part 2 to this, as an apology, except as with everything I write, it gets worse before it gets better lmaooo

Things had been tense between them, since that night. So tense that Wade had taken to making up a makeshift bed on the floor, and that was about the only time Logan even saw the mercenary.

During the day, their paths rarely crossed.

Mary Puppins was loving it. Their lack of communication meant that Logan was fairly certain she was ending up with double the food and double the walks.

Al was sick of both their shit, and had made sure to let them both know several times. The phrase 'emotionally constipated dick for brains assholes' sprung to mind.

Logan knew it wasn't functional, but then again he was barely functional these days. If he wasn't too drunk to be conscious, he was chain smoking on the couch watching shitty reality tv, trying in vain to conjure up Wade esque commentary alongside it in his head (and wasn't that fucking crazy, to miss the idiots ramblings) and pretend that the arms he wrapped around himself belonged to somebody else.

He'd looked at other apartments, but he couldn't afford the rent, and there was still something tethering him here. Maybe he was clinging onto something long gone, but maybe it was salvageable. He needed to believe that, because he'd never had anything worth clinging too since his old team, and that had been a long time ago.

So he couldn't bring himself to leave. Because even if him and Wade only saw each other in passing for what was likely a grand total of thirty seconds a day, he needed those thirty seconds.

He was fine. It was fine.

Well, that is until one afternoon when he'd arrived home from a grocery run.

When he'd opened the door, he was surprised to see Wade's shoes on the rack. He had been at work when Logan had left, and normally he was there until at least five.

He very almost called out for the man, but decided against it. Whatever reason it was, Logan was certain it was none of his buisness.

He headed to the kitchen, noting their shut bedroom door, which also wasn't all that uncommon these days. Wade spent most his time locked away in there, likely in an effort to avoid him.

There was something niggling at him, though. An anxiety he wasn't used to feeling, because he wasn't used to caring about people enough to agonise over their wellbeing. It had been too long, and so the feeling felt unfamiliar and wrong, and it compounded onto everything else that was unfamiliar and wrong in his body.

He was about ready to buckle under the weight of it.

What if Wade had left work early because he'd been hurt? What if someone had come for him for whatever reason? What if he was sick? Could he get sick? What if he-

The carton of milk he'd picked up to put away burst under the strength of his grip, getting all over him and the floor.

Fuck it. Fuck all of it. He'd just check quickly to make sure the bastard was okay, and it would mean absolutely nothing, and then he could go back to putting the groceries away and not destroying half of them in the process. He was only checking on him because he couldn't afford to replace more food, basically, which was a completely normal thing to do. Obviously.

He goes to their room and flings the door open.

Wade is fine. He's... he's more than fine, probably, Logan thinks vaguely as he stares at the scene in front of him.

He'd not seen Vanessa's shoes at the door. Had they been there? Maybe he'd missed them. Maybe he'd been too focused on Wade's. He should go check.

"Logan-!"

He shut the door. Because it was the right thing to do when two people were fucking, and despite the general concencess - he was polite. Not because he couldn't look at them without wanting to scream and break shit and throw up.

It's a blur, leaving the apartment. He almost slips on the puddle of milk dogpool is currently lapping up, and he hopes Wade has the sense after... after he's done to mop it up so Al doesn't slip.

Wade, cleaning up his fucking mess. Again. Ironic that that's exactly how this whatever-the-fuck between them is going to end.

He shoves his shoes on, skips out on a jacket because he needs to be out of here now, because the air is too thin and he's going to fucking suffocate, regenerative powers be damned. This is what dying feels like, actual dying, and he's certain of it.

His skin is burning. So are his eyes.

He doesn't take a key. Doesn't need to be back. He's never coming back in again, he's sure of it.

What the fuck was he thinking, staying here? Bombarding into Wade's life like a piece of a puzzle that doesn't fit properly, leaving gaps around him and fucking the whole thing up.

He's wrong. He doesn't fit here, because he's from another puzzle entirely, and he should never of left his box. Maybe that's why everything was so fucked. His body knew on a level that his brain refused to acknowledge yet that he didn't belong in this world. He didn't belong with Wade, even if it's the safest he'd felt in years.

He's sobbing and probably completely incoherent by the time he stumbles into the nearest TVA post, but they don't question his state or why he makes his request. They just do it.

"Logan-!"

Wade pushes Vanessa away from him rather than making a grab for the covers, which says more than he'd care to analyse at the minute.

Logan doesn't say anything, which is the worst outcome. Wade wants to be cussed out. Have a liquor bottle thrown at his head. Anything, dealers choice!

But not the crestfallen expression as he quickly shuts the door. As if Wade's exclamation had been from aggravation at being interrupted, rather than a place of genuine oh fuck no.

It's his own fault, and he needs to fix it now.

"Wade, where are you going?" Vanessa asks, her frustrations thinly veiled as he scrambles off the bed and tries to find his clothes.

"Logan- he... I need to make sure he's okay," Wade explains in a rushed sort of garble, and where the fuck did he throw his shirt?! He wanted to punch his horny self in the face for not neatly folding his clothes atop of the nightstand.

"He's 200, and didn't he live in a mansion with a bunch of teenagers? I'm sure it's not the first time he's walked in on people having sex," Vanessa deadpanned, and Wade wanted to shout at her that she didn't get it, but that wouldn't be remotely fair.

How could he expect her to know anything about the thing him and Logan had failed to even discuss themselves? Especially... especially when he'd called her for this exact purpose.

He'd been having an awful day at work. Beyond shit. He'd been spoken to like an idiot by some asshole who only seemed to come to car dealerships to flaunt his knowledge of each vehicle for an hour straight. His manager had screamed at him for an hour over a two dollar till discrepancy, and he'd learnt they were taking away two lots of commission from him due to his name not being 'cohesive' enough on the paperwork.

That, on top of how royally he'd fucked up things with Logan by pushing him too far too quickly, and he just needed to feel like he could do something right, and experience a few minutes of sweet post orgasm bliss.

He'd called Vanessa, been pretty fucking transparent about his intentions of it as a one time hookup, clocked out early under the guise of not feeling great and met her at the apartment.

Logan was out on the grocery run, which normally meant he'd be out a couple of hours.

He wasn't meant to come back earlier. He wasn't meant to open the door.

Because Wade knew how it looked, he did. It looked like he'd given up on... whatever the hell they'd been building, because it had gotten messy and he just wanted to get his dick wet.

And he'd done some real fucked up things in his life, but if Logan thought that was remotely true, even for the five minutes it would take Wade to find him and correct it, that was going up there with the very worst.

"I need to find him, 'Ness. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I just..." he couldn't say it, because he was an emotionally stunted child, and he needed to apologise to her properly too, for dragging her into this - but his brain was going too fast for his mouth and he was left without the ability to say any of it.

"Wade," she interrupted quietly, pulling on her own shirt and coming over to him with his own dangling from a finger, "it's okay, alright? I'm not blind, I know he means a lot to you. I just wish you two assholes would figure it out," she smiled softly, and Wade frowned.

"I- I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called," he murmured, and she shrugged, kissing his cheek and pushing the shirt against his chest, "eh, one last hurrah was needed before you settle down with that one. Pretty sure you'll never be single again, Wilson. Or will it be Howlett?"

Wade let out a surprised sound, choking on air momentarily while she laughed at him.

He pulled on the shirt, giving her one last small smile before rushing out the room.

He'd been searching for days. He'd went into every bar in a ten mile radius of their apartment, had spent an entire weeks wage on cabs just driving the streets. Looking for literally any sign of him.

None.

He was fucking desperate. His calls went straight to voicemail, and he even got fucking missing person posters made (he was too depressed to even photoshop kitty ears onto the photo he used which, come on).

He wasn't sleeping. The idea of never seeing Logan ever again all because he was too much of a pussy to talk to him? It killed any sembelence of appetite he had, and any hope at settling enough to sleep.

The TVA was his very last avenue of hope. They could see everything, so they'd have to be able to find Logan.

He hadn't even bothered to put on his suit, and the agents looked thoroughly confused when he entered, not used to seeing him without it.

It was hung up in the closet right next to Logans. Taking it away from the untouched yellow felt too much like an omen for Wade to proceed with, if he was being fully honest with himself.

"I need your help," he said, feeling the eyes move with him as he strode across the room up to the lead agent. He didn't know his name, and didn't frankly care to either.

The guy frowned, "Wade Wilson, right?"

"Can you locate people? Get a general whereabouts for them? My friend is... missing," he interrupted, cutting right to the chase. He didn't have time for pleasantries, and God knows he didn't have the temperament as of right now.

"Ah," the guy hummed, "you're looking for Logan. Well I regret to inform you, Mr Wilson, but he requested that information remain quiet-"

Wade might not of packed any weapons, but he tended to thrive with improvisation, which was how he ended up with the fucker pinned against the console, a pen inches from his eye.

"My friend was feeling a smidge unstable, so you'll have to forgive him for making you make promises you can't keep however," he pushed down an arm against the guys neck, who choked beneathe it, "I'm substantially more unstable, and unless you tell me where the hell he is right now, I'm going to ram this pen so deep into your skull it pops out the other side, then I'm going to make you use it to write down his exact coordinates. Understood?"

And maybe it was overkill. Just slightly, because the guy just seemed remarkably harmless, but there was no way Wade was leaving here without knowing the exact address of whatever bar Logan had opted to drink himself to death in.

The guy nodded frantically, raising his arms in surrender.

"He- he's returned to his own timeline, I'm afraid."

Wade stumbled backwards.

No. He must've heard wrong, because Logan wouldn't of done that. Couldn't of left forever, not when... not when they hadn't fixed things.

"I am sorry, Mr Wilson. But Logan was very clear that he wanted to return to his home-"

"I'm his fucking home!" Wade screamed before he could reign in the building anger, tears burning in his eyes, "this is his goddamn home, you fuck. Our- our beds here, and our apartment, and our dog and... and me, so you're going to give me your stupid time jumping thing and let me go bring him back to his actual home," he seethed, his chest heaving as he glared at the man.

"I can't just give you my tempad. You've already proved yourself dangerous to other timelines previously-"

Wade laughed, and laughed, until the guy gave a nervous chuckle himself, forcing a smile, and then Wade grabbed him by his neck and tossed him onto the ground, grabbing his tie as he did in order to choke him before crouching down and getting uncomfortably close.

"You think you've seen me be dangerous? What I'm going to do to you if you don't give me what I want will make all of my past actions look like a kitten riding a fucking unicorn over cotton candy clouds in order to go to an ice cream parlour," Wade threatened, and he meant every word.

He pitied the stupid asshole who kept him away from his Logan. Fucking idiot. And it was so fucking stupid, because Logan probably didn't want anything to do with him anymore. I mean, could there be a clearer message that quite literally hopping timelines to get away from somebody?

But it couldn't end like this. He wouldn't let it. It couldn't end with them barely speaking, two ghosts sharing an apartment. It couldn't end with Logan believing what they'd had for so many months, and what they very almost had that night a few weeks ago, meant nothing to him.

The fact was - it was the thing that meant the fucking most.

He loved Logan Howlett, and something about that thought, hitting him with such clarity as he threatened to murder a man, made everything make so much more sense.

He needed to see Logan. Now.

Maybe the guy could see the emotion in his face and pitied him. Maybe the universe was rewarding him for conjuring up genuine emotion and acting on it. Maybe the guy just didn't want to be decapitated.

Either way, Wade ended up with tempad in hand. Logistics and reasons were no longer relevant.

"Thanks, sweetness. See ya soon!"

He pressed the button, dissapearing from the room and leaving behind a dozen horrified employees.

The first time he'd been to Logan's timeline, he hadn't exactly seen much. He spawned into the bar practically atop of him, and he'd dragged his unconscious body through the portal back to his own world in that same bar.

He wasn't exactly wanting a full tour regardless. From what Logan had divulged after too much alcohol and the safety of their bedroom walls, his world was very anti-mutant.

Logan insisted a lot of it was down to him, but Wade believed people fucking sucked, and if they wanted to hate something, they didn't waste time looking for a reason to do it.

When he stepped through the doorway, it was into a dark street.

He didn't recognise where he was, and he could only hope he was somewhere close to Logan.

He glanced around, but nothing really caught his eye, until he noticed a shrouded alleyway, with a metal door.

It didn't seem to be attached to any store front, and Wade figured it probably fit the description of shady ass bar slash potential strip club enough for Logan to be inside.

He knocked. A burly guy opened the door, and glared at him, "fuck off, your kind isn't welcome here you fuckin' freak," he spat, about to slam the door, but Wade stopped him.

He wanted to break the guys face, lecture him on acceptance while pummeling him into the concrete, but there was a sinking feeling in his stomach that was nagging at him to get inside, and to do that he'd have to play it smart.

"You think I'm one of those mutant freaks? Fuck no. Sick bastards. This? Is from a warehouse fire," he gestured to his face, and the guy looked immediately apologetic.

"My bad man, my bad. Can never be too careful, y'know? Thought we'd almost eradicated the fuckers, and then one turns up at the door a few days ago. Luckily for him, we were needing some entertainment around here since the last catch kicked the bucket," the guy smirked.

Wade had to swallow down bile.

"That's what I'm here for," he replied, unable to really formulated anything else around the suffocating fear filling his lungs. It wasn't an emotion he was used to feeling, but the idea of Logan being used as 'entertainment' in this place was enough for the blood in his veins to freeze up with it.

"Come on in then, man. Just down the stairs, to your right," he stepped aside, and Wade quickly pushed inside, following the directions.

The hallways grew dimmer as he went, lights flickering and buzzing, and then... cheering.

The fuck was this place?

Posters spewing death to mutant slogans were littering the walls, and Wade forced himself to keep moving, hoping and praying that Logan wasn't in this twisted fucking place. That he'd gotten it wrong, and the brunette was in some slightly less terrifying place drinking away his emotions.

He rounded the corner, pushing open the double doors, and the cheering grew into a roar as he entered a room full of bodies, people herded in a circle surrounding a cage.

A cage, which Logan was currently in.

Wade pushed his way to the front, getting drinks spilt down him as he shoulder checked men double his size. He stumbled forwards like a moth to a flame, eyes wide, grabbing the bars and staring at the man he loved in utter horror.

Logan was chained to the bars in thick metal cuffs, and he had a collar strapped around his neck that Wade was far too familiar with. He was on his knees, slumped forward, bleeding from wounds Wade couldn't see properly. He was stripped down to a pair of dirtied boxers, breathing heavily, muscles pulling from obvious pain.

"Twenty dollar entry, and you can do whatever the fuck you want to him, folks! A genuine, dirty fucking mutant - and not just any, either - The Wolverine himself!" The crowd erupted in yelling and boos, the stench of alcohol overwhelming as men pushed into him from behind, trying to get a better view.

Look at me, baby. Look up. I'm here, I'm going to get you out. I'm so sorry.

Wade wished that Logan could hear his thoughts. He wished so badly he could just tell him it was going to be alright.

He started trying to move his way to the door of the prison where the presenter freak was, pay his dues. If he could just get in there, he could open up a door back to their timeline and pull Logan through. Easy.

Someone beat him to it.

"Alright, get ready for the show, folks!"

The door opened, and unless you were really searching (Wade was, because he's always searching Logan's expression, always wanting to know how the other was feeling) you wouldn't notice the slight flinch Logan did when he heard the sound.

Wade watched with baited breath as the sick fuckface approached. His fingers itched for his gun, so he could empty a few dozen rounds into the bastards smug mouth.

It was cowardly and fucking pathetic. Having Logan chained up, powers suppressed, helpless to do a damn thing all while he was beat on.

The man wasted no time.

He kicked, and punched, and stomped every inch of Logan that he could, being utterly brutal with it, blood splattering on him and the ground and a few drops even landed on Wade, who was watching the scene on the other side of the bars, screaming Logan's name, begging him to at least try to fight back.

He didn't. His only movements were the jolts from the impact of the beating, and Wade was fairly certain he had to be unconscious until the man dug his fingers into his hair and pulled his head upwards, giving a better view of his face.

Wade choked on a building sob, the air being yanked from his lungs.

Logan's entire face was battered and bruised, swollen beyond recognition. There was more blood than skin visible, some fresh and some sticky looking, half dried, and some flaking off. A testament to how long he'd been trapped in this hell hole, to how many men had paid just to make him bleed.

Guilt gnawed uneasily at his stomach. If it wasn't for him and his stupid selfishness and inability to express his goddamn emotions, Logan would never of left. He wouldn't of ended up here, and he wouldn't be about to die in some disgusting back alley fight club while all Wade could do was watch helplessly. He caused this. He caused the person he loved the most in the world to be quite literally dying on his knees, at the mercy of assholes who had none to offer him.

The guy punched him hard across the jaw, earning a sickly crack, before spitting on his face. The crowd cheered him on, laughing and whooping.

Logan didn't react, blinking blearily beneath two swollen black eyes. When the grip of his hair dissapeared, he slumped back towards the ground like a rag doll.

Wade needed to get in that fucking cage right now. He shoved his way to the door, where the presenter guy was stood, looking almost bored.

Wade's desire for murder was going fucking crazy today. It should be a genuine testament to his self control that he hadn't killed half the stupid fucks he'd encountered, even if said restraint was only born from a need to save his friend.

"I've got one hundred. I want in now, but I want the cuffs off," Wade held up the crumpled bills, and the guy looked between the cash and the cage.

"Cuffs off? Don't think you get how dangerous this one is, kid. He's got a list of victims longer than the damn Bible, and I ain't getting in there to pull you out if he decides to gut ya like a fish. His powers may be suppressed but he's still fuckin' strong," the guy warned, and Wade plastered on the sleeziest smirk he could manage.

"I've got it, I want to be able to snap all his fingers in two. Doesn't seem right that they are protected away in those cuffs, they deserve the same treatment as the rest of him," his brain was screaming at him, the words physically hurting as he spoke them, like razor blades crawling up his throat and cutting his mouth to ribbons.

The man shrugged, "whatever," and a buzzer rang out.

"New contestant entering the ring!"

The door was opened. The man who had just been beating Logan strode out with a satisfied look on his stupid face, and Wade might of been refraining from actual murder, but absolutely anyone could've stuck their leg to the side and tripped the fucker. Anyone at all, really!

He followed the presenter into the cage.

Logan didn't move, or look up.

The cuffs got removed, and Wade got a pat on the shoulder as the man left, along with a sadistic "enjoy, all yours."

Logan was slumped into a heap on the floor, and now Wade was closer, he could better see the extent of the damage.

Every breath Logan took was laboured and wheezing, short pained gasps. The blood truly was everywhere, along with... other bodily fluids, which Wade sort of expected. This didn't seem the sort of job that allowed for frequent bathroom breaks.

He crouched down, reaching out to lightly rest a hand on Logan's bicep, on the area with the least damage, which was sickeningly hard to find.

Logan whimpered beneathe his hand, curling in onto himself further, a whispered "stop," barely audible under the weight of the crowds chants as they goaded him into beating the man in front of him further.

"Logan," he breathed, but the older man seemed to be buried too far in his own head to realise it was him.

Wade wasn't wasting anymore time. He needed Logan out of here, and the stupid inhibitor collar off of his neck so he could heal before he died from his injuries.

He opened the portal, and before anyone could even unlock the cage to get in, he was dragging all 300 pounds of Logan back into their apartment, and quickly shut down the gateway.

He left him bleeding on the carpet while he raced to the kitchen, rifling through drawers until he found the small metal magnetic device. A gift from Colossus a good while ago, which had the ability to open up those awful collars. Something told him brute force wasn't an option for Logan right now.

He returned, that uneasy pit in his stomach only growing when he discovered Logan was still in the same spot he'd left him in, staring up at the ceiling but seemingly not seeing anything.

"Hey Lo, I'm gonna take that collar off now, alright?"

His voice earned no reaction either, and Wade swallowed, reaching out for the device wrapped around his neck.

Logan flinched back when he did, shaking his head sluggishly, "no, no more, pl'se, no," and Logan sobbed, trying to curl up but hissing in pain when he moved.

"Peanut-"

The brunette tried to get up, but quickly came crashing back down when his legs instantly buckled.

"Logan, it's me, yeah? It's Wade," he assured, and he watched as Logan stilled, trying to focus in on his face, those big wet eyes filling up again.

He let out an awful, pained sound, and grabbed onto his arm so tightly it hurt.

"M...'m dead? I- want Wade," he cried harder, and Wade frowned.

"No baby, I'm here. You're alive, you're okay. I got you out. I'm here," he promised, squeezing Logan's hand in his own.

"Stop! S-stop! N-not real, not..." Logan choked, gagging out blood onto the carpet, and all Wade could do was whisper an apology before grabbing the collar and pulling Logan up enough to reach the back to open it, all while Logan screamed and thrashed and tried to fight him.

The collar popped off with a click, and Wade shoved it aside, shushing Logan softly with a hand stroking through his greasy hair.

To his relief, Logan started healing fairly quickly, his wounds closing themselves up and the bruises fading from where they'd once painted his skin unforgiving shades of blue and purple.

"You're alright, everything is okay. I'm here," Wade continued to assure quietly, and Logan's screaming tapered down into simmering sobs, ripping out of his chest just as brutally.

"'M, 'm sorry," he hiccuped, still clinging onto him for dear life, and Wade shook his head, still playing with his hair.

"No, nono, no baby. No 'sorry', you didn't do anything wrong," Wade said, but Logan thrashed, getting more distressed.

"Ru'n everythin' I touch. Messed up you're l-life, 'm not... shouldn't be here," Logan cried, trying to move away, but Wade stopped him, staring down at him.

"Is that really what you think?"

How could Logan even start to believe that? How could he think for a single second that he was impacting negatively whatsoever on Wade's life? He was Wade's life, could the idiot really not see that?

"Logan, look at me right the fuck now."

Logan hesitantly looked in his direction, "i- I shouldn't be here. You- you had a life, a future," he said, and Wade could tell this wasn't just something that had came to him in that moment. The way Logan spoke, the utter pain laced through the words like poison, this was something that had been eating away at him for a while.

God, Wade wanted to scream. He wanted to grab the dumbass and shake some actual sense into him, because seriously?

"There isn't anywhere else I'd let you be, peanut. You could hop fifty universes over and I'd march into the TVA and kill any fucker who tells me I'm not allowed to follow. You're stuck with me, get it? You're my present, and my future, and I'm not letting you dip out of that," Wade promised, because it was exactly that. A promise. Logan wasn't going anywhere without him following behind. Wade would make sure of it, no matter who he'd have to kill or worlds he'd have to eradicate in the process. It was all just pointless collateral to Wade, if it meant staying beside Logan.

Logan was looking at him with something akin to awe, bright eyes shining through the layers of blood and dirt smeared over his face, like he couldn't fathom that Wade would choose him to mean so much.

It was sweet, and yet made him want to rip his own heart out at the same time, to know that Logan thought so ridiculously little of himself. For him to think that, even after the months they've had together, that Wade could ever be so quick to discard him.

That was partly his fault. He knew that. He hadn't exactly showed a willingness to fight for... this when he was sleeping with Vanessa.

"Wade you... you're good. You're too good and you deserve someone who's not completely fucked up," Logan sat up a little, a bitter laugh erupting from his chest, "fuck, I couldn't even... I couldn't even get through sex without fucking breaking down, and it's not fair on you to carry that burden-"

Wade couldn't listen to Logan's self deprivation any longer, and leaned in to kiss him hard, one hand moving to cup the back of his head.

"Shut up," he said when the kiss broke momentarily, both of them panting inches away from each other, "shut the fuck up, alright? You are not a fucking burden to carry, and besides - you really think I'm good? You really think I'm a walk in the park? I kill people on the regular just for the crime of pissing me off. I never stop fucking talking. It's takes me six to twelve buisness weeks to process an emotion, and I'm a terrible friend-"

"Wade stop it," Logan begged, voice tight, hand on his thigh.

"No, you're not the only one with flaws here, baby. I could write you a whole book of mine, get you to sign it like a fucking contract," wasn't a bad idea, actually - having Logan legally binded to him just a little, "the point is," he kissed Logan's jaw, splayed his fingers over his neck, dug in his nails just a little, just enough to make the brunette whimper into his mouth, "I fucking love the shit out of you, Lo. You don't have to say it back. That's not what this is, alright? I just need you to know."

Logan broke their almost embrace to sit back, staring at him. Wade couldn't breathe for a second, waiting for the impending rejection.

Instead, he was met with three hundred pounds of adamantium skeleton atop of him, Logan's arms wrapping tight enough to hurt around his waist, his face buried away in Wade's neck which was rapidly growing wet with tears.

"I- I love you too," came a shaky whisper, and Wade just might of air punched in celebration if he was capable of moving at the present moment.

He leaned down to drop a kiss to Logan's hair, nuzzling his face into it. Logan practically purred, lifting his head up enough to kiss him, tongue slipping in without inhibition, and Wade moaned against his mouth, running his hands all over, knowing he'd probably need it after so long.

He was proven right by the way Logan's body went limp and heavy, soft noises escaping his throat as he plastered himself against Wade.

They lay like that for a while, on the blood stained rug, sharing lazy but desperate kisses, all while Wade touched Logan as much as he possibly could, reclaiming every inch of skin as his own, until he almost forgot where one part of himself ended and Logan started.

Logan mewled, bucking his hips down, and Wade kissed his cheek tenderly, "soon, big guy. Let's shower and get you something to eat first, kay? Let me take care of you, then I'll fuck you so hard you pass out. Pinky promise," Wade hummed, and Logan murmured his agreement, letting Wade help him up off the floor.

A few hours later when, true to his word, Wade had quite literally washed him, scrubbing his scalp clean with gentle fingers, made him his favourite meal despite his hatred of cooking, and then fucked him so good Logan did genuinely pass out briefly at his climax, they were laid out in bed together, tangled together loosely.

Wade was playing with his hair. Logan was leaving trails of peppered kisses over Wade's chest.

And Logan thought, for the first time with a clear brain, the voices gone, that Wade would never have to follow him across fifty universes, because Logan would rather gouge his own body apart than be more than fifty feet away from him ever again.

#again sorry for any mistakes #i swear i proof read but my brain Struggles to spot mistakes #hope this also isnt a huge letdown compared to part 1 #poolverine #deadclaws #deadpool #deadpool & wolverine #the wolverine #logan howlett #wade wilson #logan/wade #wade/logan #deadclaws fic #poolverine fic #logan angst #wade angst #mywriting

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wonuwonder · 1 year ago

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can i request something cute and full of kisses while cuddling with seokmin on the couch please and thank you 🥹

an: your mind anon>> i was literally thinking about posting a drabble about cuddly seokmin🥺 tysm for requesting!! hope this isn’t too short or cheesy😭

content: pure fluff, fem reader x seokmin, established relationship, just cuddling and snuggling with seokmin, clingy baby just wants to kiss you and hold you. 0.8k words

cuddles & kisses - lee seokmin

you were laying on the couch reading a book with the tv on at the back keeping you company, it was a quiet evening, you hadn’t done much the whole day, just ran errands with your boyfriend Seokmin, walked in the park for a bit and got home quickly before it started to rain.

“hey whatcha doing?” he asks cutely, entering the living room, he gets close to the couch and grabs your book, making you look up at him, he puts the bookmarker in place and closes it “i want cuddles, i’m cold” he whines, pouting.

you open up the blanket and gesture for him to join you at the couch, he lays in between your legs, his back facing the ceiling, resting his head in your chest, he scoots closer to you as you start playing with his hair, while he caresses the sides of your tummy under your t-shirt. he hums everytime you pull his hair, he loved it.

“i missed this min” you say softly, hugging him tightly and kiss the tip of his nose “you spend so much time overseas or with your tight schedules these days, it feels like we don’t have time to enjoy each other’s presence” he looks up at you and pouts at your confession, he brushes the hair out of your face and stares at you delicately, his tired brown eyes glistening with adoration, he’s about to start speaking but you cut him off before he can start, “and i’m not blaming you or complaining, I know it doesn’t depend on you, and that you’re doing your best, i just” —you sigh “wanted to tell you how i felt i guess”

he tugs you against him, turning you and him to your sides, so you can stare at him and lay before each other on the couch. he places his hand on your cheek and brushes his thumb against your skin, you close your eyes enjoying the feeling. he reaches for you, and kisses you softly, taking his time to taste your lips, when he pulls back, he grabs your waist and scoots you closer to him, snuggling you.

“i missed this too, so much” he confesses, and looks at you with tired eyes “i wish we could be together all the time” your faces were so close together you could see your reflection in his big dark eyes, the intimacy felt so comfortable, you wish you would never have to separate.

you lean closer and brush your lips against his, and then close the tiny gap between you both, capturing your lips again, he presses his against yours harder, and you deepend the kiss by parting your lips for his tongue to get in, but still being soft and gentle with the way your lips move against each other. when he pulls back slowly after a while of just enjoying each other’s kisses, he leaves a little peck on your lips before hiding his head in your neck, hugging you tightly.

he leaves wet kisses all over your neck making you tickle, as you scratch his back softly under his t-shirt, he hums at every scratch and caresses your tummy, he finds your belly button and fiddles with it, making you laugh, he leans closer again and starts kissing you once again, this time more chaotically, as he was laughing against your lips, leaving peck kisses all over your face “I-�� he starts, and kisses your nose, “love” another kiss, on your cheek “you” he ends with a kiss on your lips, pressing his lips tightly, pulling back with the biggest smile on his face. you grab his cheek and reply “i love you too”.

you cuddle and kiss for hours, stopping only to look at each other like idiots “your lips have gone all red” you tell him, caressing his big plump lips with your thumb, he bites it softly, making you both laugh, “i canbg’t geth engbough of youlr lips” he says struggling to talk with your thumb between his teeth, you both laugh until your stomachs hurt at his jokes, like always.

you spend the whole evening like that, enjoying each other cuddles, snuggling and hiding on each others bodies, talking about anything and everything, cherishing every little moment in each other’s company.

you fall asleep before seokmin does, lying on his big chest, he takes his time admiring every bit of your face, counting every freckle and every mole on your skin, trying to remember all your details. he eventually falls asleep too, hugging you from behind, locking his arms around your waist, thinking to himself, how lucky he was to be with you.

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dollyonm0lly · 7 months ago

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hi, hope all goes well!! So imagine slave reader gets pregnant at a party. no clue who of the two is the father. A few months later they meet you again, they are super jealous of someone and before you know it you they both fuck you becore the rest of the group, o they think the other person is the father or something (reason why they jealous)

Oh, so we are in for some possessive fuck today, huh? <3

They are watching you, you know they are, you can feel their gaze deep within your flesh, prickling, itching, causing a shiver so powerful to run through your entire body that if it were not for your duty at today’s festivities, you would have been paralyzed on the spot. Your duty today was like every other in every party, serving and entertaining the guests. With your head bowed in respect, you walk around the surroundings with an elegant jug of wine in your hands, your shallow attention span proving to be a major problem under the circumstances, it’s always a little hard not to bump into anyone in your path when you can only locate yourself by the tide of feet in front of you, you think. You can already feel a little bit nauseous.

From afar, both emperors watch from their shared sofa as you walk around dazed in the party, Caracalla can feel a little laugh bubbling in his chest after more than a few glasses, his body relaxed in the comfort of all the fluffy cushions, his head resting on one of his palms, but Geta, Geta couldn't feel more rigid, his body restless where he sits, one of his hands against his lips, with a closer look, it is possible to see the way he bites and tears at the skin near his nails, an attitude not so appropriate for an emperor.

They both watch intently as you carelessly walk around and bump into one of the guests, a young man they notice, but with an unfamiliar face. The young man turns to you, his hand quickly rising to slap you across the face, the act by itself already being enough to make Geta and Caracalla feel alert from where they are, perhaps prepared to put an end to the confrontation when needed to, when the man's hand stops in mid-air, and he inspects you, still with your head low in respect. Something in the man seems to shine as he recognizes you, a smile spreading across his face as he lifts your head, one of his hands on your chin to see you better. The brothers can feel their blood run cold, seeing how the young man smiles so casually at you, one of his arms circling your body, landing his hand on your shoulder, bringing you closer to his body as he introduces you to those he was previously talking to, a slight blush of embarrassment on your face at the new found attention on you, as you serve the glasses of your new conversation partners.

Geta can feel his eye twitch in discomfort, and Caracalla, clicks his tongue inside his mouth in irritation, pushing off aggressively with his leg the slave boy who until then was lying down and caressing his thigh. How dare he, how dare YOU, acting as if you were equal to their guests, acting as if they weren't watching your every movement, acting as if you weren't completely theirs, their property. Are your smiles fake at this moment? What are you laughing about? They question themselves. You haven't laughed like that when you were with them at other parties.

You feel a faint kick in your belly, making you gasp slightly in reaction. The young man next to you gives a slight chuckle, taking his hand that is not on your shoulder to lightly touch your tummy. It soon seems to become the current topic of conversation the conversation. Apparently, it has become already difficult to hide your pregnancy from the public eye, but you knew this moment would come. With an awkward laugh, you try to hide your discomfort in the new situation and, in a fatal mistake, you end up letting your curiosity win, slowly traveling your eyes to where both emperors sit. They were already looking at you, displeased. Geta's jaw clenched, Caracalla's eyebrows furrowed, both of their cups empty. With a small movement of his two fingers, Geta orders you to go to them.

The walk to the sofa where they sit is rough on your body, you can feel your legs shaking as if they were going to give up on you, your face lowers again, but their gaze is still vivid in your memory, especially the one they had at that last party… You feel like you could vomit, nervousness takes over you, no words have been exchanged about your current pregnancy between you and them, you never thought you would be in front of them again, you never thought you would see those you think could be the fathers of the being you cultivate within you again, and now, you fear what the consequences might be. You stop, now in front of the sofa, time seems to stop, and a momentary silence falls between the three of you, while the rest of the room continues to be full of conversation and laughter.

“Fill” - Geta says simply, his eyes never leaving your figure, as he raises his own cup towards you, - “And then sit with us” - he adds, watching as with trembling hands you serve both his and Caracalla's cups, who wastes no time in also positioning his in your direction. You carefully return to your initial position, relieved by the success of not having spilled a single drop given your screaming anxiety, and then do as he told you, positioning yourself in the middle of both of them on the sofa, your body thanking you for the rest after so many hours of the day on your feet.

Silence falls again, you grip the jar tightly in your lap, your gaze never straying from the party happening in front of you, a bead of sweat running down your forehead just at the thought of having to look them in the eye.

“Your skin looks smoother than the last time we saw you” - You hear Geta commenting to your right, his voice surprisingly close, as if he expected you wouldn't hear him if he weren't so close to your ear, close enough for you to be able to hear his breathing clearly, with the new proximity, you feel his leg brush against one of your thighs.

“And such shiny hair, it looks healthy” - Caracalla comments in his drunken state, approaching in a way that is not as subtle as his brother, you now feel the weight of the Emperor's head on your left shoulder, he leans there, taking one of his fingers to play with your strands of hair, twisting them as if he were going to define a curl, as well as bringing it close to his nose so he could smell it, causing shivers to run down your body. Taking advantage of his head already resting on your shoulder, he gently wraps his two arms around your body, taking the opportunity to feel the relief of your belly against him, both brothers with their gaze fixed on it. - “You indeed look much prettier” - he whispers happily, finally having you in his arms after that horror show that was seeing you talk to that young man from before, Caracalla closes his eyes and lets out a contented giggle.

“I have missed you…” - You hear Geta whisper in your ear, leaving his glass aside just as his brother had done, now with both free hands, taking one to run over your chest, then to your belly where he lets it rest for a few more seconds, and down to your thigh. - “Your body... Your voice, your smell. You smell so good today…” - he continues, seeming to drift off into a daydream now that he can have you so close to him, earning a humming of agreement from his brother.

“Feel so needy when not with you…” - Caracalla pouts in a sly voice, giving right after a light chuckle, seeming to find his own words amusing, even if they are true. With the hand that he had kept on your waist until now, he lowers it, to yours, and takes one, bringing it to his groin, rubbing your palm against the clear tent present there beneath robes. You gulp, your eyes still fixed in front of you, you watch the young man from before chatting around the party, oblivious to your current situation, the act by itself going unnoticed by Caracalla, too busy moaning against your neck while satisfying himself with your hand, but not by Geta, who, disgusted by your attention being on something other than them, turns your face to his in a sudden movement, capturing your lips in a fervent kiss.

The intensity of the kiss makes you immediately lean back, now bumping against Caracalla's chest, who holds you promptly, letting you rest your body against his, Geta's lips follow yours, his body now covering yours on the sofa, his hands going to your waist and staying there. - “I better not catch you doing that again, or the consequences will be bad for him” - He warns, his gaze serious, as his hand rests on your belly, you control the moan that wants to escape your lips, distressed by the attention it might attract.

“Poor thing, she must be so sore here, let me help you” - Caracalla whispers behind you, you can feel the excitement in his voice as he reaches both of his hands to your swollen, heavy breasts, his touch easing the ache there as he lifts them in his hands, teasing them tenderly like a passionate lover, watching your nipples become hard beneath the fabric, he makes sure to run his thumb over them, causing tickling and shivering sensations all over your body. - “This beautiful pair is ours alone, right? Ours alone to touch, to taste, to have…” - He questions you, a smile growing on his lips when your only response is incomprehensible sounds and embarrassment written all over your face, you feel his hand bring yours to him again, but this time, he sneaks it beneath his red robe, making you feel the hot, rigid skin of his cock. With a needy moan, you begin to stimulate him in your palm, receiving a moan in return from its owner.

“She is entirely ours, everything about her. And everything she has…” - Geta answers his brother, his gaze intense, and you can perceive the connotations between the lines of his statement, Geta's hand pressing against your belly making his message clear. He sighs, lowering his head so he can rest it on your collarbone, one of his hands walking down your body until it reaches below your clothes, feeling you, feeling the wetness of the region inside your thigh, all the fluids that come out of you, until he reaches your sticky and pulsating center, earning a little cry from you when he runs his index finger all over your slit, gathering your excitement and bringing it to your clitoris, rubbing you, the sensation is too much together with the stimulation in your breasts, you are just so sensitive all over. - “Why don't you say it yourself?” - He suggests, his eyes closed as he feels your sweaty skin against his face, his fingers working you. - “I’ll give you a gift if you do.” - You can feel him removing his hand from your belly to take it to his own clothing, stimulating himself underneath as well, everything is so risky, so many people around…

“I…” - You hesitate, and they notice, the mood between you changes, and in a slightly clumsy movement, Geta forces your lower body closer to his, aligning his cock with your dripping pussy under your clothes, not caring how much the position might draw attention from others. Caracalla, on the other hand, helps his brother to position you better, bringing you to his own lap and opening one of your legs a little for them, his cock now rubbing against you as much as his brother's, Geta. Caracalla brings his lips to the side of your neck, biting the spot, eliciting a cry from you that you try to contain, your mouth opens in a perfect "o". - “N-not here…” - You say softly, your head spinning, daring to revolt your emperors.

“Yes, here” - Caracalla responds looking dissatisfied, his hand gripping hard your neck which until then he had been biting, possessive, as if you had the possibility of running away if he let go of you. - “Will the child's weak father get mad if I play with mommy a little?” - He says mockingly, looking annoyed, which causes a look of confusion on your face.

“N-no, he's –”, You try to speak, but are stopped by Geta slapping roughly one of your thighs.

“Enough" - He commands, and with hungry eyes, he thrusts himself abruptly inside you, Caracalla using his hand to adjust himself and join his brother in your pussy, both of them going in a little more easily than expected given your wetness, but still deliciously painful. You moan without a care in the world, the jug that was in your hand finally falling from the grip that one of your hands had on it, falling to the floor and shattering into thousands of pieces and wine. The room becomes silent, not a soul utters a word, all eyes on you, and you can't even open your own to face the various expressions around you.

You can't see anything, but Geta and Caracalla can, and their eyes are fixed on the young man from before, assessing his troubled expression. A sick smile appears on both of their faces, satisfied, and then they begin to finally move inside you in the silent room, the only sounds present being your moans from the most perverted state of mind a being can reach, very lost in your pleasure and in how your body moves with theirs, the sloppy noises of them entering and leaving you, Geta's fingers stimulating your clitoris, Caracalla enjoying your entire body and curves with his hands. The room slowly returns to what it was before, conversations and laughter, perhaps, everyone is already accustomed to the dirty acts of the Emperors, but the brothers know what this means, they won, you are theirs, and everyone knows it.

“Yours… Hmm, yeah, yeah, yours only” - You moan for them, drool dripping down your chin as you lose yourself in the pleasure of having them both pound into you. And when they hold you down, locking your hips in place, claiming you as theirs as you clench and gush around their cocks, you know there’s no escape.

“Shhh, it’s okay, gonna take good care of our little family” - You hear one of them whisper sweetly, still feeling them moving inside you even after you've come, but you can only giggle out of it at the promise of a future.

#this is so bad and longer than expected im sorry guys 😔#also i didn't proof read so oop sorry for any mistakes #emperor geta x reader #emperor caracalla x reader

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toujoursrab · 11 months ago

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Prompt: Eerie | Pairing: Jegulus (@into-the-jeggyverse) | Word Count: 529

When Regulus returned home from his shift at St. Mungo’s, he expected to be met with controlled chaos. Harry’s toys all over the sitting room floor, Peppa Pig playing loudly on the muggle TV and mixing in with the Hamilton soundtrack coming from the kitchen (because it was James’ night to cook and he couldn’t do it without music). Instead he was met with an eerie silence, walking through the house wondering if anyone was actually home. He didn’t even step on a Lego as he made his way into the sitting room. “Haz? Jamie?” The TV was off, the room was oddly clean. Even Harry’s fingerpaints from this morning were cleaned up and his artwork most likely hung up on their fridge.

The Healer turned on his heel, leaving the sitting room and making his way to the kitchen. Much like the previous room, the kitchen was entirely clean. James rarely cleaned up right after he cooked, so the kitchen was always a mess when the professional Quidditch player put it to use. Regulus was just about to leave the room and head for the bedrooms next, when a vase of flowers sitting there on the counter caught his eye. A dozen red roses, a classic, but also his favorite flower. A smile formed on his lips as he picked up the card in front of them addressed to Regulus. It was simple a ‘Happy Anniversary, love. Yours always, James’. He scrunched up his nose in confusion because it wasn’t their anniversary.

Before Regulus could think much of it, he heard a set of footsteps followed by a pair of arms wrapping around his middle. He leaned back into his husband’s warm embrace, setting the card he was holding down on the counter. “The flowers are beautiful, Jamie, but it’s not our anniversary for another three months.”

James kissed the side of Regulus’ neck, lips lingering as he spoke into the other’s smooth skin. “You agreed to go out with me exactly five years ago today. It’s an anniversary worth celebrating.”

“Wow, can’t believe I forgot especially when we celebrate it every year.” They didn’t, obviously. His tone was laced with a teasing sarcasm only Regulus could pull off. Regulus had no recollection of the day he finally agreed to go on a date with James, but he didn’t doubt the other knew the exact date. What Regulus did remember of that day, James had been so elated, when he left, he walked right into a light pole, the impact enough to break his glasses.

“Don’t worry about it.” James replied cheekily as Regulus tilted his head to press their lips together in a series of soft kisses. “You have me to remind you.” When James finally released his hold on Regulus, he turned so they were facing each other. Regulus reached for James’s hands to hold. “Haz is with Lils for the weekend, I set up a romantic candlelit dinner in the garden. Will you join me, Mr. Potter?”

The corners of Regulus’ lips upturned into a bright smile. “I would love to, Mr. Potter.” He leaned up and pressed their lips together in a chaste kiss.

#jegulus #starchaser #james x regulus #microfiction #marauders era #for once i didnt get carried away and actually wrote something microsized #i didnt proof this so idk lmao hope there arent too many mistakes

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sukunasbow · 5 months ago

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jinx fucking you with her gun ; mdni

your eyes widen as the blue haired girl waves her gun around you, slowly bringing it down and dragging it in between your plush thighs. you anxiously bite your lip and shiver at the feeling of the cold metal tracing your inner thighs, slowly inching towards your cunt.

“do you trust me, toots?” jinx smirks up at you. you suck in a deep breath and nod your head in response. “use your words.” she huffs.

“i trust you, jinx.” your voice comes out and faint and shaky. she brings the gun back up to your mouth, placing it on your lips and making them part, giving her access to your mouth. you’re about to asking what she’s doing, however you’re quickly cut off when jinx inserts the gun in your mouth. you let out a small gag at the disgusting metal tang of the gun.

“suck it.” jinx commands.

your eyes shift down to look at her in shock. despite your shock, you still listen to her demands and sensually suck the barrel of the gun, coating it with your saliva.

“good girl.” she coos. she takes the gun out of your mouth and you instantly take in a few deep breaths, still taking in what she just happened. “doing so good for me.” jinx continues praising you as she, once again, brings the gun in between your legs. “so wet and ready for me, hm? you’re so fucked up, getting off at the thought of me shoving a gun inside of you.” she mocks you.

you want to feel ashamed and embarrassed at her words, however you just can’t let yourself feel that way as she slowly inserts the gun inside of your wet hole. “oh, fuck..” your eyes flutter at the feeling of the cold metal rubbing against the walls of your pussy. you clench around the barrel of the gun.

“shit, look at her.” jinx feels herself getting wet as she watches the way your pussy devours the weapon. “she’s fucking needy.” she talks at your cunt. she slowly starts to move the gun in and out of you, intensely focusing on the lewd sounds of the barrel exiting your dripping cunt. “yeah, she’s taking it like the slut she is.” her lips part and she practically humps the ground at the sight of the gun thrusting in and out of you.

“jinx, feels so good, fuck.” you moan out in pleasure. your head falls back as the tip of the gun repeatedly gets deeper, hitting your sweet spot while the ridges of the barrel glide along the walls of your cunt. “faster, please, please.” begging for more from the blue haired girl.

jinx lets out a laugh, one that’s almost making fun of your current state. “you sure you can take it? don’t wanna hurt ya.”

“yes, i can take it!” you huff, feeling a knot slowly build in your stomach as she increases the pace. your hole caves in around the gun, clinging onto it with every movement of the barrel from jinx. “need you, please.”

“you have me.” she reassures you. “i want you to cum for me, baby.”

“yes, yes, mm’..gonna cum..” you gasp, desperately reaching your hands out to grip at her blue hair. “so fucking good!” you moan. the knot in your stomach slowly comes undone and you feel yourself reaching a high, blinding white hot pleasure taking over your body.

just as your cum gushes out of your pussy, covering the barrel of the gun in your juices, jinx clicks the trigger of the gun. your eyes widen at the click sound. your heartbeat speeds up and tears fill up the corner of your eyes as you come down from your orgasm and also deal with the shock of what she did. your mind starts racing, wondering if you were even alive.

“fuck!” your nails dig into her scalp, hoping to bring yourself back down to reality. “what happened?!”

“toots, you’re okay.” she smirks up at you, slowly taking the gun out of your cunt and showing it to you. “i told you to trust me. i would never hurt you, it’s empty.”

#not proof read atm sorry!! just wanted to post #will read over and edit possible mistakes tonight #but ive been wanting to write this for a whileeeee #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #jinx smut #jinx fanfic #jinx fanfiction #jinx x reader #jinx #arcane smut #arcane fanfic #arcane fanfiction #arcane x reader #arcane #fem reader #sapphic #wlw

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riongeee · 26 days ago

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Hello! :D

I've been thinking about Sebek a lot lately, especially in time travel au's, and I was wondering what you would think of an au where it was after the malleus overblot, but during the hypothetical grim one. Like in an au where he and the first years are close and they all use their powers or magic to send him back in time. Maybe it was his unique magic...

Either wAY The other first years should somehow get sent back in time too, just a little later than him so they can all basically rub it in how much closer they are to him than the Dia3.

sorry- just had to release the Sebek thoughts somewhere...

Love your writing btw :)

Hiiiii

Hehe thank you and sorry for late reply exams are beating me up🌝

Anyway, I love love love timetravel aus. Especially when you take a character like Sebek who has so muchhhh room fpr character growth/development. Like you best believe Sebek from the start and post Malleus overblot are two different people. (Not really but you catch my drift)

Also, the idea of it being part of his unique magic is interesting because from what we do know he basically becomes like lightning. Which for time travel could be an interesting concept (travel at speed of light, time warping as a result etc etc) so that could be something to play around with. (For example instead of being on purpose maybe Sebek, in a moment of desperation uses his unique magic like that unknowingly and just throws himself into the past??)

As for first years getting sent back too, this could go one of two ways with them: the residue from Sebeks Unique Magic somehow also sends them back OR they do some stupid stuff and somehow go barreling head first into the past. (Or for angst death??? Idk could add a bit of interesting twists if the first years heavily jaded go back into the past and see a slightly less jaded Sebek. Funnier if they assume this is first year Sebek NOT time travelled so they act like some overprotective bodyguards eyeing up Dia3 like enemies).

If following that route I think it would be interesting if Dia3 and first years have a stupid misunderstanding. Sebek after timetravel obviously acts differently to his pre time travel self. Dia 3 assumes this is due to the influence of the first years (bullying, being bad influences etc etc). Whilst the first years see Sebek being all melancholy like and immediately assume it's the fault of Dia3.

However, if we roll with the more lighthearted option I deffo think first years would be all smug about how well they know Sebek. Silver wants to hang out with Seb? Too bad he already promised to go watch Aces basketball match (que smug grin). Lillia wants Sebek to try his cooking? Too bad Jack dragged him out for training. Malleus needs something? The prefect and Grimm called him over for his help with something.

The absolute smugness from the first years would be hilarious trust. I'm even thinking it spreads to the dorms, any dorm with first years just accepts that the new firsties are oddly close (trauma bonded but whatever).

Lowk I just want the first years to mention furure inside jokes that Dia 3 have no knowledge of and for Sebek to just bust out laughing. Like surely '_____' isn't that funny.

#sebek zigvolt #twisted wonderland #twst sebek #diasomnia #malleus draconia #lillia vanrouge #silver twst #twst first years #twst #okay #probably have like 20 spelling mistakes but for now I just need to get my thoughts out hehe #proof reading comes later #anyways can you tell I read way way way too many iseka9/transmigration manhwa and novels #cooked

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mr-cia-adler · 4 days ago

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so I come back from a damn funeral and come onto tumblr in hopes to see some funny posts of the blops crew or some ghoap fan art shit to cheer me up but no I'm introduced to the sight of people arguing

here's my controversial opinion! (coming from a person who skimmed all these argument posts and isnt really THAT knowledgable on certain lore or blops ships so my opinion doesnt count on this. But, you can also see this as a complaint for hate on OCS in general), so heres your reminder that they're not real!

Russell Adler, Bell, Helen Park, Alex Mason, and more, they were designed for a video game! they are not real, they don't deserve a argument on what people can and can't do!

sure, in the story (cold war mostly), there's brainwashing, manipulation, mrd3r, toxicity, plus more and pretty much everyone knows that they are not good things! I haven't seen a single creator defend those problems and romanticise them, but that's not the problem.

what the actual problem is how the creators here are being treated. be it writers, artists, 3d designers, animators, even people who just like showing off their OCS, they do NOT deserve to have their work shit on. And i'll repeat;

They do NOT deserve it. They've worked hard to fledge out their characters, became accounted with what's right and wrong, and my personal fave, is that they don't give a shit who they ship or make! If you go out of your way to proclaim your hatred, then shame on you.

I follow quite a few amazing blogs who have planned out and fledged ocs and none of them would need any bitch ass comments from a person who thinks they know better than others just because they have different opinions and views.

There's just so many people who makes work of their ocs and adbell ships. They make Adbell content and quite frankly, good on them for doing so! They dont give a shit who they make, they do it because its fun, it allows them to show their creativity and cause a welcoming and creative space in this community

I want people to draw Adler in twink clothes and make fun of him! Send Mason and Woods to pride events and them being happy! make ships and fanfics and smut and fanart and OCS! If you want to ship Adbell, then ship Adbell! Why do you need to listen to some negative opinions when it's YOUR OC, YOUR decision, YOUR liking?

If you keep in mind the toxic negativity (we all know the plot of cold war and what Adler helped do to Bell, plus Bell's intentions before they were brainwashed, and just their relationship in general) and romanticise the wrong doings, then sure, people will look down on that ship because of it.

And I'm not saying Adler is a saint, we know what he's done, what he's like, but he's not a complete fucking monster. He's done bad things, yes, he does those things for the greator good, but he cares to a degree-See it with Woods in Black Ops 6, their interactions, hell Sims too-and isn't devoid of all human emotions. Y'all need to stop the Adler hate.

But please, PLEASE, note that they are not real, this is a fictional game with made up characters! there are also things called AU's! If people want to make an AU which changes the plot to a degree or Adbell's relationship or whatever, then do that! I just don't understand why people are getting riled up over it.

As I saw someone else say: 'don't like, don't read'. You don't like the Adbell ship? Then move on and don't take time out of your day to slag off, hurt, mock the creators for doing something they like and are passionate about.

Maybe I've got this wrong, maybe I've missed the point of the whole argument, but this is my opinion on people slagging the Adbell ship and what people do. And just my opinion on hate on OCS in general. If I'm wrong, if you disagree with what I said and have comments on it, or I missed something, tell me

And that 'Dadler bullshit' comment? (Image^)

(You do realise that Adler is actually a dad, and we don't know what he was like when he was with his wife and kid, so people are allowed to fill in the blanks! Saying Dadler is bullshit is pretty much shitting on canon, so)

also treyarch-yes, TREYARCH-literally made a Adler skin called DADLER, sooo hate all you want, dadler is actually canon

So in the return of the negative comments and how my week is currently terrible and these arguments are not helping-plus how they are judging Dadler, I'm going to rub it in people's faces and show off MY Adlers!daughter oc :)

#this is NOT proof read if theres spelling mistakes im sorry #sorry if i missed the point of the argument and got things wrong im just so fed up jc #stop arguing just stop #y'all just #knowing me. im going to regret this later after ive calmed down so #its ridiculous #people are entitled to their own opinions! let them do what they want to do jfc if you dont like it #move on.#russell adler #bell cold war #adbell #alex mason #helen park #black ops cold war #black ops 6

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robinasnyder · 4 months ago

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Ya know, Jay’s going to therapy. Jon mentions as much in Shazam, and there’s still like suggestions about it in Secret Six. But is Jon going to therapy? Imma bet no. I bet you the answer is no.

Jon has a very real problem, which boils down to this: in trying desperately to avoid dealing with his own trauma, he’s trying to force himself and the people around him back into the past, rather than moving forward and trying to deal with the present situation post trauma. He says multiple times that he wants things to go back to the way they were before. Back before everything happened, back when Jon could say he was good and not feel like it might be a lie.

I think that if Jon hadn’t been kidnapped and mind controlled that Jon never would have been so forgiving of Nia. Even if Nia had died and helped to save him twice, I don’t think he would feel so strongly about wanting Jay to forgive her and let it go.

His problem with Jay hating Nia isn’t that Nia saved Jon, or that Jon’s worrying about Jay wanting revenge. Jon is heavily projecting what happened to him onto Nia. Nia was blackmailed. Jon was brainwashed. Jon was forced to be a back seat driver to his own body. And he watched himself devastate the community he’d grown up in, the heroes he thought were so good and the people who would look up to him. And despite the fact that his body and powers were used like a weapon he wasn’t even party to using, he’s terrified that what happened makes him unforgivable.

When Jon gets upset about Jay not forgiving Nia, it’s because Jon seems to believe on some subconscious level that if Nia can still be a good person, if she can be forgiven, then Jon’s sins aren’t unforgiveable.

For Jon, Nia’s his mirror. For Jay, she’s the enemy.

Unfortunately, if Jon doesn’t figure this out fast, he’s going to lose his boyfriend. Yes, Nia did save Jon, but she was also part of why Jay lost so much. Jay’s living very much in the present, in what’s happened, in what to do next. I think that’s a function of everything Jay’s suffered before now too. He doesn’t have the privilege to not be aware and present in what’s going on. The slightest misstep and he can lose even more. I bet keeping his eyes wide open is how he escaped, and how he’s made it this far. I bet he probably has problems letting go and not constantly keeping an eye on threats. Like him watching Waller in her cell. The fact that he’s not as paranoid as Batman at this point is an actual miracle.

So, Jay’s got both eyes open, looking forward, while Jon’s looking behind them. They’re walking down the road together, hands clasped tight, but Jon keeps bumping into and stepping on Jay because he’s not looking forward.

I wanna add, the part where Jon is trying to argue with the guard about letting them in really stands out to me. He’s clinging so hard to the concept of being good, of being Superman’s son, of being someone who can hold that mantel. There’s a heavy instability in the guilt, and he’s drowning in it. If he can’t figure out his problem, he’s going to take multiple people down with him.

That being said, I believe that if Jon can identify his issue and put it into words and admit it that he’ll actually fix it. Right now, he’s focused so much on Jay, how Jay’s doing, how he’s healing, that Jon isn’t working on his own problems. Almost like he doesn’t think he deserves to heal, or feel better, or anything but suffer. But that type of mentality will straight up kill relationships.

#jon kent #jay nakamura #secret six 2025 #dc #jayjon #And here I go rambling #Honestly #in the back of my head I'm giving myself a pat on the back bc I clocked the pair of them real good for my big crossover fic #also I have no proof but I feel like despite the mistakes jon's making that Jay is also being clingy too in his own way #Jay's lost a lot and Jon loves him and can provide family comfort and support #It can't be easy for him to give that up when everything else is still so up in the air #But we'll see #I really need Jon to figure his shit out though

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i-write-things · 1 year ago

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Cuddle Spider

(Yan! Chrollo x Willing! Reader)

It is in human nature to seek warmth. Achieving homeostasis is a characteristic of all living things. When we are cold, we seek warmth, be it physically or emotionally.

Imagine being freezing outside, and right next to you is a fire. But you are not allowed to cuddle up to said fire. You can only admire. A mysterious force is holding you back from gratifying yourself with such a comfort.

That is you right now. You are the one freezing. The cold is a combination of it being winter, and the AC running too much for your liking. Even as you sit on the edge of the bed you feel no warmth. The fire is the very man sitting across from you in a chair, reading and unbothered by the temperatures. And the mysterious force is your conscious.

A part of you wants to cuddle up to him. You're well aware he would be willing to do so. He's not doing a hefty task currently. Even if he only wanted to continue reading, who could hold you and read. His heat would be certainly welcome. Not to mention, the feeling of safety that comes with being wrapped up in his arms.

However, you feel- no, you know this is wrong. This man, though charismatic, intelligent, and thoughtful in his own unique way, is a monster. He took you. Without your consent, he scooped you up and away. And while you no longer have to worry about taxes, morons for customers and coworkers, and feeling touch starved, it doesn't change the fact he is not a good person. He steals things that are considered to be national treasures for the sake of, not even riches nor status, but rather for the thrill of the swiping. And also for a second reason you couldn't quite decipher, though you have your interpretations as to what he meant.

Still. That wasn't even the worst of it. As you look at him now- his raven colored hair hanging over his forehead, covering up that mysterious tattoo and just barely dangling over his eyes. Enigmatic, deep stone colored eyes that carefully scan over the contents of the page that tells a tale of who knows what.- he acts so calm. He is calm, really. But how? After all he's done, the stealing of precious valuables, stealing of people, the mass murderings...You just can't seem to wrap around your head how he can sit here, so relaxed and at ease, all whilst knowing the atrocities he's committed.

And yet, despite this, you still feel that compelling urge to crawl into his lap. To get him to lay down on the bed you now share, and lay down on his chest, his muscular arms creating a safe haven for you. Is it real love you experience, or is it the succumbing to Stockholm Syndrome? The latter being the most likely choice in this scenario. You've been kept here for what you estimate to be about 9 or 10 months. Truthfully, you have no real idea, but this is simply your best guess, judging by the weather and seasons. Though, it feels more like a year or 2 than anything.

Stockholm Syndrome was doing funny things to you. It made you crave the touch of a man you should despise with all your might. You continue to stare and think deeper and deeper about this. Truly, you where the beauty and he was the beast. Although he was an alternate, more backwards version. He started off as the handsome prince, then revealed himself to be a beast.

You and Chrollo. Beauty and the best. You chuckle at the thought. A grave mistake to make while staring at the chap. His observant eyes picked up to you, and a small, amused smirk sneaks onto his face as well.

"What's so funny?" He asked charmingly, as if you had just giggled at a joke he made.

"I-Its...nothin'. Just um...just a dumb thought I had."

"Care to share?"

"As I said, it's pretty dumb. it wasn't even all that funny, really."

"Then what's holding you back from telling me. You seemed as carefree as the wind when you where staring at me a couple of moments ago." His mouth transformed from an amused smirk, to a smug grin. Jerk. Doesn't he know how pretty he looks when he does that? He probably does.

"I-..." Your words die on your tongue and go back down your throat. Of course he knew you where looking. He's Chrollo fucking Lucilfer, of all people.

You have a couple of options. You can compliment him. Distract his thoughts, but you know from experience he will take it, and not give you your reward of changing the subject. You could insult him. But...something tells you not to, and it isn't fear. Just a feeling that you don't want to. You could flip the tables, and ask him what he thinks it is, but he would turn it once more and back to you. He was crafty with his words like that. Lying would be fruitless, as he would know immediately. He knows all your ticks and give aways. Your only option is the truth, and hope he doesn't feel insulted.

"I was just thinking...this whole...thing. It reminds me of beauty and the beast."

"Assuming I'm the beast?" He raises an eyebrow. "and what whole thing are you referring to?"

"I just- Well, um. Okay, yes. in this situation, you are the beast. Or at least, a reverse version. You used to be the handsome prince, and now you're the beast. And the thing I was referring to is...y'know, the not letting me go, thing."

"Hm..." He watches you for a moment with those predatory eyes before speaking. "You thought I was the handsome prince. Though I have revealed my true colors, my looks haven't changed."

Jerk. Handsome jerk.

"Well, yes," You sigh, knowing exactly what he was suggesting. And, it was true. "You're looks haven't changed and...you maybe still are um...y'know. But that doesn't take away from the fact you're a beast."

"I'll take that as a compliment. The beast did anything he could for Belle, if I'm not mistaken. And she did fall for him at some point as well. Are you sure you're still Belle and I'm the beast in this whole 'thing', as you put it?"

"It's only Stockholm Syndrome." You scoff playfully, not being able to help the small smile as you cross your arms.

"Excuse me?"

"I said it was just- oh."

You realize your mistake. A very, very stupid one.

You just admitted you having fallen for him. And that stupid smug grin you so dearly want to either kiss or smack off his face isn't helping.

"L-look, okay, I admit-"

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" He queries, going to sit beside you on the edge of the bed. His hand started to slowly creep up and down your bicep, causing goosebumps to wake in his touch. Something he felt and was aware of.

"B-because I...W-well.." You nervously spout, looking for any sort of out. You can't tell this...this psychopath your true feelings. Instead of saying something smug, he does something worse:

He waits patiently and silently as you dig yourself into a deeper whole. Of course, you could deny, deny, deny. But...the fire is so close. Despite the force holding you back....if you could only just...relent a little. Besides, you'd feel releived, wouldn't you? Like finally telling your childhood crush you like them while on the playground at recess. That's exactly what this is. You're both on the playground, and he is your silly little crush, and none of this will matter. That doesn't stop your hummingbird of a heart.

Taking in a deep breath, with a face radiating the warmth you wish you'd receive from Chrollo, you finally talk. "Look, I just...Ok. I'm not even sure if I should love you. I mean, yes, I do love you, and I do want to be held and I secretly enjoyed it everytime you held me at night these past couple weeks. I cannot deny the way my h-heart skips everytime your gorgeous eyes observe my every action. Though I find it creepy, I also find it very fascinating. But I still feel like this isn't right. You-You stole many things, killed many people, and outright took me. I just- I just feel like I'm not supposed to love you."

He stares at you quietly for a beat or two after. For a moment, you're afraid you babbled on too fast, and he'd make you repeat yourself. But that's dumb for two reasons. 1. he can see and move faster than you can comprehend. 2. he speaks up after.

"None of your situation calls for normal circumstances. In the world you live in right now, your options are limited."

"Yes, but...-" Your chin is lifted up with his index finger and now you face him. What a sappy, cliche move. It doesn't prevent the already prevalent blush on your face to increase, however.

"You don't have to feel a certain way just because society wouldn't be pleased with it. After all, society wouldn't be pleased about any of this. And yet, no matter what, this will happen, anyway. So why care? It's not as though society has tried to save you."

He raises a point. A fair one, at that. That, doubled with the fact you so badly want to crawl into his arms right now. Who is stopping you? No one has dared help you before. Why should you care?

"I can see the stirring in your mind. You know I'm right." He states. You nod quietly.

"Then, what are you going to do about it?"

After a moment of silence, you give in. You gently push him back down to lay on the bed. At first, his eyebrows raise in surprise. He didn't think he convinced you to go this fast. But his confusion is soon quelled with an answer as you lay down on him, cuddling up to him in a much more wholesome manner than he thought you would. His expression softens. As you lay your head on his chest and curl up to him, he wraps his warm, protective arms around you. The book and mysterious force now gone. It all had dissolved much like a weak resolute in a strong resolvent. He let's out a peaceful, happy sigh, and you follow suit.

"You know, I've known about how you felt for some time." He reveals.

...Honestly, you knew. You are well aware nothing gets passed him. You where only just saving yourself from the embarrassment of admitting, and from the force that had held you back for what felt like a year.

"I know," you sigh "I'm just glad I get to do this now. Is it....is it okay of we do it more often?"

He let's out a handsome chuckle "Of course, my dear. How can I say no to denying you of what you desire when it's something as simple and precious as this? I had a feeling you might like this. Before I took you away, you where quite the cuddle bug."

"Hmm....." You hum. "Cuddle spider." You correct, nuzzling his chest. This felt much better than just staring at him from afar.

"Yes," he chuckles, liking your little pun. "My cuddle spider."

#i write for you #chrollo #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo x reader #writing for you #chrollo headcanon #Loosely proof read #probably a lot of mistakes #sorry if there is #chrollo x willing reader #yandere chrollo x Willing reader

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