#So my body and maybe brain are convinced it was already done

[curiousorigins]

Most days I’d rather be asleep. Probably going to end up watching another sunrise. I’ll have you know I was mildly, but nothing important, productive today.

[upon-a-starry-night]

There's this idea in my head that's causing real brain rot. So that one time, when Connor and Hank are on the rooftop, and he almost kills Hank? Can I request something like that, but with an f! reader? Maybe f! reader is on the deviant's side, and Amanda has already taken over, as a result, fight ensues. Major hurt/comfort. You choose how this ends. Thank you in advance 😭

Connor Rk800 x Gender Neutral Reader!

DBH Masterlist Main Masterlist

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, angst, minor violence

A/n: I always thought Connor should’ve had another chance to become deviant at this rooftop scene so this is the perfect opportunity to write it! I hope you enjoy!

-

The night air is cold as you step out onto the roof, a distant alarm blaring as it fights to be heard against the harsh wind. 

You flinch and pull your coat tighter, watching your breath fog out in front of you, snow scattering in every direction. It’s a night you’d rather be spending in the warmth of your home, curled up with a good book and good company. Unfortunately, your good company chose to go bad cop on you and now you’re out here trying to get him back.

You can already feel your fingers growing numb and you regret not bringing gloves up here with you. As if life being a detective wasn’t hard enough.

You squint at the light illuminating from the giant Android billboard and instead focus your gaze on the figure near the edge of the roof. It’s the last place you want to see him right now. On this roof- on the wrong side of history. Making a mistake you know he’ll regret.

It’s all you can do to hope you’ll be able to convince him to come back. 

You don’t know what happened. One day he’s kind and funny and even a little flirty and the next he’s cold and calculating. Had he just been pretending the whole time? Did he tell you all those sweet things just to eliminate you as a threat to his mission? 

Whatever the reason, even if he was faking it with you you weren’t faking it with him. Over the past few months, you’ve formed a genuine connection with Connor. A connection you thought was more than just partners working on the same case. 

You think back to all those late nights Connor stayed up with you as you wrote your reports, cracking jokes so the police precinct felt a little less cold and dim. The time he helped you move your furniture after your previous apartment almost got broken into. The little moments where he’d walk you to your car no matter the time, or go out of his way to pick you up a coffee.

That couldn’t have been fake, right? Nobody went through that much effort just to make sure you were friends. It was because of the way he treated you and cared for you that you found yourself in love with him in the first place.

You sucked in a sharp breath and shook that thought from your head. You’d only just realized it last night. You’d planned to tell him today but something about him was different, he didn’t look at you the same way, though his body still lingered near yours. Then you’d gotten the call this evening about where he was headed and you knew you had to stop him.

The Connor you knew wouldn’t do this. But maybe the Connor you knew wasn’t real…

“You don’t want to do this Connor” He doesn’t even flinch at your voice. He probably heard you from the second you got there and was just waiting for you to say something. 

Perhaps that was a sign? Your Connor was always polite with you.

“You shouldn’t be here, Detective.” His voice bites at you with more coldness than the night air and it makes your heart sting. It’s a tone you’ve only ever heard him use with suspects or Gavin. Even when you first met and he seemed devoid of emotion his voice was warm, friendly. What happened?

Was it something you had done? Something you said that gave away your feelings about him? He was built to read body language and pick up on subtle clues after all. Had he known even before you? Was he disgusted by you? That a human like you could fall so easily for an Android?

He shifts the position of his gun, getting a better shot on Marcus and you take another step forward, if you could just reach him then maybe-

“You won’t stop me from accomplishing my mission.” Him and his stupid mission. It’s all he ever used to talk about before he started being open with you. You thought you’d become more important than his mission. Guess not.

“What mission Connor? What? You think you shoot this guy and it’s all over? The whole rebellion falls down? Is that it?” You scoff, shoving your hands into your coat pockets to try and garner some warmth. “You shoot Marcus, someone else will just take his place. Do you really want to spend your life hunting down Androids until you’re the only one left with a soul?”

He doesn't speak but you see the way he squeezes the gun tighter, your words clearly having an internal impact. 

“Come home Connor,” You say it out of instinct, your home had become a shared space with Connor, a place he knew you’d always welcome him into. “We can find a good movie and-”

“And what? Huh? Sit there and pretend like we could be anything other than a human and a machine?” His words cut deep, slicing your heart open and revealing all the ugly fears that had been festering in your brain. The urge to throw up fills your stomach but you push the feeling down.

What Connor thought you could or couldn’t be didn’t matter right now. Even if it hurt, you had to make sure you stopped him no matter what.

He places his finger on the trigger and you know you have to resort to the last thing you wanted to do. The last thing you thought you’d ever do to Connor. You pull out your gun and aim it at his back. Emotions well up in your throat as tears threaten to break free

“Get away from the ledge” You wish he couldn’t hear how your voice trembles but you know he does. You don’t know if you have the gall to shoot him and he knows that. Still, he stands up and turns around to face you anyway.

It’s the worst sight in the world- the image of him in front of the barrel of your gun. His eyes are cold and unrecognizable, and you take note of the fact that he doesn’t drop his gun. A strong breeze roars through and you shiver, watching the wind ruffle his hair.

The same hair he used to let you brush your fingers through as you spent hours talking on your couch. His head in your lap, his eyes closed, his LED spinning blue, and a content smile on his face. You remember wanting to take a picture of how cute he looked then, just like a happy puppy. 

Oh, how things change. 

Your hand shakes as you hold the gun, maybe from the cold, maybe from the anguish, probably from both. 

“Go home detective. It’s not my mission to kill you but this is none of your business” You nearly flinch at the word ‘kill’ but manage to hold your resolve. You couldn’t show weakness in front of this version of Connor.

You scoff, “None of my business? You call you killing an innocent man none of my business?”

“It’s not a man. It’s a machine-”

“He has a family! He has people who care about him and depend on him! He has a partner and friends! Like you and I were-”

“We weren’t anything but coworkers Detective. If you thought we were more, you were mistaken.” He cuts you off with the words you feared to hear more than anything. Words he promised you he’d never say when he told you “I’ll always be here for you detective” with that stupid sunny smile of his.

Wiping a tear with your shoulder, you shake your head as you try to get a read on him.

”you don’t mean that”

“I think I do” He tilts his head, in a way you always found cute but now just find menacing. 

“I can’t let you kill that man Connor” You tighten your hold on your gun and he narrows his eyes, sizing up whether or not he thinks you’ll shoot before going to put his gun down.

Your body relaxes slightly only to be met with the full force of his gun being thrown at you. You try to block it but it crashes into your arm, causing you to hiss out in pain. In the next second Connor is coming at you, disarming your gun and throwing it across the roof. 

You try to throw a punch but he swiftly blocks it, grabbing hold of your shoulder and throwing you to the ground. The impact is harsh and the cold only makes it worse. You can already feel the nasty bruise it’s going to leave but you don’t allow yourself time to dwell on it.

Grabbing a metal grate from nearby you launch it at Connor and use it as a moment of distraction, rushing towards your gun near the ledge of the roof with Connor hot on your heels.

Connor sweeps your legs from under you as you’re inches from the gun, sending you crashing to the ground in a fall that stings your palms. At least it helped that your hands were practically numb from the cold. 

Army crawling as hurriedly as you can, you manage to swipe your gun as it teeters precariously off the edge of the roof. In a motion that sends pain through your injured shoulder, you manage to flip onto your back and point your gun at Connor just as he stands directly over you. 

For a brief second, you can’t help but think that Connor was taking it easy on you, but then he smirks like an asshole and your flame of hope dies out

“You really gonna shoot me, detective?” The cocky disbelief in his eyes is the most emotion you’ve seen from him all day and in a moment of weakness, you hesitate because you’ve seen that look when Gavin throws his fits about Androids or when the other detectives think they can do his job better than him. Cocky was an emotion Connor didn’t often show but it always made you laugh.

He takes advantage of your moment of hesitation, twisting your gun from your hands and throwing it off the roof. It lands with a solid ‘clack’ in the snow below. You try to sweep his feet but he blocks your legs with his arm, grabbing them and pushing them to the ground. He reaches down and grabs you by the collar of your sweater, angling you so that you're dangling over a fall that would definitely kill and for the first time, you truly feel scared of Connor.

You struggle in his grip to no avail, eventually giving up as you stare into his eyes for what might be the last time. You feel tired and angry and heartbroken and you don’t have the energy to fight him anymore. You let the wind rage around you as you hold out your arms, daring him to drop you.

“Moment of truth Connor…what are you gonna do?” You struggle to catch your breath as his LED violently flashes red. “You gonna kill me for trying to be a good friend?” You wait for anything to happen, for him to throw you off the roof or respond but all he does is stand there staring blankly. His LED goes crazy, flashing from red to blue to yellow and back again, like he’s having some sort of internal struggle. 

His grip on you seems to loosen a bit and you inhale sharply “C-Connor” You cry out desperately and he gasps, his grip tightening as he pulls you into his body and clings tightly to you. He takes a few steps back from the roof, forcing your body to move with his as he brings you both back to safety.

His arms wrap around you in a tight embrace and you’re unsure what to feel until you hear his pained voice

“I’m sorry.” It’s more raw than you’ve ever heard it before and soon enough tears are streaming down your face as your arms reciprocate his hold. His hands clench tighter to your jacket at the sound of your sobs. “I’m so sorry i-” His voice breaks off and his chest starts shaking and you look up to see tears streaming down his face.

You’d never seen him cry before, you didn’t even know he was capable of it- and from the looks of it neither did he.

“A-amanda- she took control and I couldn’t-” His eyes refuse to focus on you, staring at the swirling snow behind you, so you release one arm to cup his face and bring his gaze down to yours. “I tried to kill you” He looks absolutely heartbroken at what he’s done and he quickly begins to scan you for injuries. His hands coming up to cup your jaw and tilt your face this way and that.

You manage a smile through your tears as you realize you have your Connor back. Relishing the gentle way he holds your face and the concern that never leaves his eyes as he looks over you. 

“No harm no foul” You attempt a joke and Connor’s lips quirk up for the briefest moment before his gaze zeros in on your shoulder and he frowns

“I hurt you” You pursed your lips, unable to deny that fact but not wanting to ruin the moment. Reaching up, you wipe the tears from his cheeks with a gentle hand, watching as he leans into your touch.

“It’ll heal.” You tell him instead, just happy to be bruised and safe rather than dead. “What happened back there?” He looks like he wants to say more about your injury but after reading the look in your eyes he drops it.

“ I broke free. I was stuck in this frozen garden for so long. I couldn’t control my own body or words but then I heard your voice and I had to save you” You lay your head on his chest once more, feeling the steady flow of Thirium pumping through his body, the cold long forgotten from your mind.

He rests his chin upon your head, pulling you into a hug once again. 

“You’re more important to me than any mission.” His voice trembles and it takes everything in you not to start crying again “I didn’t mean any of it- those awful things I said, I didn’t mean any of them… I Love you, Detective”

Your gaze snaps to Connors, a wide smile and a light blue blush dusting his cheeks. Those three words- three words ten minutes ago you were sure you’d never heard from him. You had to make sure you hadn’t misheard him 

“What?” your heart pounded in your chest

“I said I love you, detective” This was really happening. Connor loved you back. You couldn’t help the tears that fell at the genuine emotion in his voice.

“I love you too, Connor” A delighted laugh escapes you as you pull him in for a kiss, soft cold lips meeting yours. Sure this wasn’t your ideal confession but with Connor, nothing ever went as planned, and that was perfectly fine with you “Now let’s go home, it’s freezing up here”

-

A/n: peep me watching the roof scene over and over to get this right (and also just to admire Connor) ~ Starry

[fuzzythoughtsblog]

I love camping soo much. That is to say I have this fantasy; I want to go camping with bunch of classmates I don't know (in this scenario I go to a all girls school) for some kind of school trip. As it is in the middle of the woods I have no cell reception. So I spend my time getting to know the girls staying with me in my cabian Brooke, Quinn, Rowan and Simone.

Brooke is a very athletic and excels at running hiking and swimming. Quinn is your standard environmentalist she knows every plant and what they could do. Rowan is more of a discord mod kind of girl not the type you'd expect to be out here. Apparently the school forced her to go on the trip to make up her pe credit she ignored. And then theirs is Simone another forced to be here camper. Since some of the activities we do out here count as volunteer work something Simone needs to stay in school to make up her multiple suspension. Your typical rough around the edges type.

While I tried to keep the cabin cordial the infighting happened by the second day. As Brooke thought that Simone was too full of herself and Quinn couldn't stand Rowan's complaining. To lighten the mood I suggested a friendly water balloon fight. Something Rowan claimed to be cracked at. We split up into to teams and although it was an odd number Simone and Brooke agreed that their is no way Rowan was good at this so apparently she counted as a 5th of a "solider".

Eventually the teams were decided. Me, Rowan and Simone vs Brooke and Quinn loser makes dinner. Before we began Simone announced something." I think the one who suggested this should have to wear a white T-shirt. "While I was confused at the request the other girls surprisingly agreed. Even Quinn looked away and said it was only fair. So, I went to change. When I got back the games began. And I quickly realized that Simone and Rowan's strategy was to use me as a human shield. Continuing to flank behind me when the other team threw their balloons. In fact it seemed like the other team was aiming specifically at me. By the time our game was done I was soaked down to my panties and the most embarrassing part is you could see everything through the translucent wet shirt.

As I was the most wet my team was declared the losers despite my teammates being only surprisingly damp. Although my team lost Simone and Rowan didn't make a uproar about the declaration. Instead the simple went to begin cooking. I started to change out of my wet clothes until Brooke stopped me "I think it's only fair that the losers have to stay in their wet clothes. " I try to convince her against this stating that the shirt was basically see through at this point and it's getting cold but Brooke wouldn't budge. I looked at Quinn to ask for some relief but she simple said "Y'know it's better for the environment to change less." Though after saying that she looked at me sympathetically. "Maybe, it would be fair to allow her to not wear the shirt so she doesn't freeze. " at this statement Brooke nods in agreement.

I argue that, that isn't fair but Brooke states that "I walk around in my sports bra all the time, so it's fine. " With a huff I decided to take the little leeway and peel the shirt off of me. Then Me, Rowan and Simone make quesadillas. By the time were done everyone quickly eats before heading off to bed. As I'm also tired I do the same and change into my pj's before laying down.

I only get a few minutes of sleep before I wake up hot and tingly everywhere. I look around and then see Simone creeping towards me. I sit up froze until she sits on my bed. She whispers "Sorry to wake you, I was just thinking about how I can't stand the good girl act. " hand creeping up my already sensitive body over the covers. I let out a soft whimper as a response. "Fuck, I knew it. Good girl's like you are so good for one thing. " she says while climbing on top of me and wrapping her callus hands around my throat. "Cumming your stupid little brains out. " she whispers while inching closer and closer before the lights flicker on and Brooke is standing above us. "You delinquent bitch, you knew I wanted her. " At that statement I look up at her with confusion until Quinn pipes up " Both of you need to back off... " at this statement I let out a sigh of relief "I have already claimed her, after all I put arthroscopics in her food. So her wet cunt should belong to me. "

At this point Im staring up at all three of them mouth agaped. Before Rowan chimes in "Why don't we solve this the gamer way? " the three turn to her confused "Why don't we all get to have her in an all-nighter battle royal, whoever taps out lasts wins her for the rest of camp? " she says while practical drooling. For a moment all of the girls pause before nodding. Simone - "You guys are fucked, you know how often I dick bitches like this down on a daily basis." Brooke - "Big talk you know it's all about stamina." Quinn- "Both of you are going to lose. I have more technique. " Rowan- "Pog".

As they all start to put their hands on me, I ask if I get a say in the matter to which they laugh. Brooke and Simone take turns using my neck as a chew toy and while Rowan sits above my head. "Have you sucked pussy?" Rowan ask with a smirk I answer no before she places her cunt to my lips "learn". I hesitate which makes Simone slap me " She said learn bitch! " I begin to lick as Brooke chids her "No need to be so rough. " "Look bitches like these like it rough, they like to be broken in. " "I disagree. " "Then why ya biting so hard? " Simone say gesturing to the bite mark she left.

"I... " "oh does the jock bitch not know how to hold back? This is gonna be fun! " "She's just so pretty! " "And a virgin it seems like. " Quinn pipes in again while pressing a finger inside of me "So tight. " she says watching her fingers sink in. Rowan - "Lol (yes said like lol and not L. O. L) how have you never had you cunt used? " Simone - "How are you not a virgin too? " "Hey, kittens love what I do to their bodies." At this statement Simone gets up and walks off . "Peppo champ , more for us! " Rowan says while grinding into my face harder. "I'm not done! "She yells while walking back " I just wanted to get my strap. " Brooke -"You just carry that thing with you? " "You never know when you'll need it. " "Dude that's way too big. It'll break her. " Quinn - "No it should be fine with all the aphrodisiacs I gave her she should be nice and loose. "

Simone- "Well if you won't fuck her with it more for me. " she says while strapping in. "Fuck kitten, you panicking on my cunt feels so good. " As I shake my head no I feel as Quinn holds me open for her. "Get ready whore! " Simone says as she sinks in little by little. While Quinn slaps my clit everytime I try and struggle away. Which hurts with a extra sting. Brooke- "Rowan let me get a turn. " "Fuck no her mouth is pogchamp go mog about it or suck her tit I'm not getting off. " Brooke seemingly takes the suggestion as I feel her warm mouth wrap around my nipple.

I begin I move a little as it's all so much. "Yeah that's right fuck back into me slut " Simone says as she slaps my ass and grinds the strap into me. As I start to feel on the edge with all the sensations from Brooke playing with my tits, Rowan riding my face like it's the best ride on the planet and Simone fucking me slow and deep. Then I feel as Quinn wraps her mouth around my clit and I'm sent tumbling over the edge along with Rowan and Simone.

"Fuck that mouth is better than cod. " Quinn - "Let me get a turn. " they then switch spots. Simone begins to pull out before unstraping "She's all yours Brooke. " Simone says before taking Brooke's spot . Rowan adds on "Yeah, sloppy seconds. " when Brooke is finally strapped in she goes straight for sinking into my warmth. She seems to hold back from a second before Quinn wraps her legs around Brooke's hips "Let go! " Brooke does immediately as she just begins to slam into me as hard and fast as she can whispering about how good it is while I scream into Quinn and as the others encourage her. Rowan even begins to nibble on my clit as Simone pinches nipples. Sending me over the edge again as Brooke just keeps pounding into my oversimulated and abused cunt.

Brooke - "Can't we all just shared her. " all of them silently agree. As they all use my body all night long taking turns fucking my mouth and cunt and useing my body like a toy. As I begin to pass out I think about how things are going to change around camp.

[frvnkcastles]

reader had body issues in the past, she is mostly okay with it now, but is still insecure and feels really vulnerable taking her clothes off at the beach and be there just in bikini, so frank helps her with that?

love your work, you're one of my favorite writers!!!

OUR VINTAGE MISERY ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You feel insecure at the beach but Frank is quick to comfort you.

Warnings: Body image issues, fluff mostly, language

Word count: 1.1k

Author’s note: EVERY BODY IS A BEACH BODY!! But being insecure is very valid, even if it sucks. I hear you, anon! Thank you so much for the sweet words, lovely <33

There was an annoying feeling of nervousness in the pit of your stomach, more like angry bees instead of the stereotypical butterflies, and you clung onto Frank’s hand desperately, seeking that immediate comfort he always gave you.

You had been the one to suggest a beach day, and Frank had been a little surprised by the idea — it would be the first time you went together, and truthfully, the first time he went in years. He had done it a bunch of times with his kids, but after losing them, he hadn’t exactly felt like tanning with a drink in hand. Once you brought it up, though, he had quickly warmed up to the thought and always eager to please and entertain you, he had agreed.

The next day, he packed a bag and drove you to the nearest beach in his truck, and you loved that he had been so easy to get on board. As soon as you arrived, though, you started to feel uncomfortable within your own skin. Despite it being your own idea to go, you had your reservations, and Frank was probably the more excited one, setting down a blanket for the two of you and digging out some sunscreen and water for you.

Already in his swimming trunks, he lifted his shirt off of his back, ready to head into the water, but he stopped as soon as he noticed you just standing there. ”What’s up, sweetheart? Somethin’ on your mind?” he queried curiously, his eyebrows knitted together as he crumpled his shirt into a ball and shoved it into the bag.

You realized you looked silly, frozen on the sand with your sundress flowing in the mellow breeze and your hands fidgeting with one another. But the thought of undressing and revealing the bikini underneath made you nervous, especially when Frank was standing there in all his glory, built and firm all over. He was so gorgeous, and it only made you painfully aware of your own flaws and all the things you wished would be different about your body.

You glanced around, taking note of all the people around. ”I’m insecure”, you admitted quietly, giving Frank a shy shrug as you picked at your dress.

Frowning, Frank shuffled in the sand until he was standing in front of you, his tall frame blocking the sun. ”Hey, you’re stunnin’. And if anyone tries tellin’ you otherwise, they’re getting a mouthful of my fist, got that? I ain’t lettin’ anyone ruin this for you”, he swore, dead-serious and it made you smile a little. You didn’t doubt his words, and it almost convinced you, but you still hesitated.

”Look at me, sweetheart. You’re perfect just the way you are. I know this is a big step for you but you can do it. There’s no right or wrong way to look”, he insisted, his voice gentle and reassuring. He had always been so understanding when you had opened up about your issues with your body before, and he was exactly the same now, even if he would never agree that there was something wrong with you.

You nodded, knowing he was right but finding it a little hard to get the message all the way to your brain where your insecurities were brewing. ”I don’t know if I have the body for a bikini”, you pouted, disappointment obvious on your face, ”maybe I should have worn the full swimsuit.”

Tutting, Frank shook his head. ”Nah, that’s bullshit. You got a body, so you got one for a bikini”, he spoke firmly, his hands holding yours as he stared you down. He wanted you to see he was being truthful, and you couldn’t deny that he was onto something. Bikinis weren’t exclusive to anyone, and you had every right to exist in your own body.

”Okay”, you exhaled, letting go of Frank’s hands just so you could tug the dress over your head. You tossed it onto the blanket Frank had put down for you, and as soon as you were exposed, you brought your arms to hug yourself. You immediately felt like everyone’s eyes were on you, but Frank was quick to remind you of the truth.

”No one’s lookin’, sweetheart”, he assured while gently prying your arms down and letting you get used to the feeling of not hiding. ”Except for me. Shit, girl”, he added, clearing his throat while a grin threatened to creep over to his lips. He tried to stifle it but the proud look on his face was impossible to hide, and your cheeks heated up as he scanned your body.

”Fraaaank”, you muttered, a small smile on your own face as you kicked at the sand sheepishly. He lifted his hands up in defense, but the grin wouldn’t falter from his features.

”Sorry, sorry. It’s just that I got a real gorgeous lady here with me. Makin’ me wanna devour you”, he whistled, earning a giggle from you. You covered your face with your hands and he laughed softly, wrapping an arm around you. ”Gettin’ shy on me now, darlin’? Ya got nothin’ to be shy ’bout. You’re beautiful, okay? Wish I had the words to tell you just how beautiful but you know I ain’t the best with big speeches”, he continued, and still smiling, you dropped your head against his chest.

”It’s okay. Thank you, Frankie”, you sighed, leaving a kiss on his collarbone. ”You look so good, too”, you whispered, and chuckling softly, he gave you a kiss in return, right in the middle of your forehead.

”Thanks, sweetheart, but I dunno. Think if anyone’s gonna look at us, they’ll just be wonderin’ about all these scars”, he pointed out, revealing his own sore spot. He wasn’t one to get caught up in insecurities too much, but it did bother him sometimes — he was a flawed man and he wished he could have been better for you. Those scars were a constant reminder of the baggage he carried with him and he was sure that anyone who would catch sight of you with him wouldn’t judge your body, they’d judge his.

With a sad look in your eyes, you glanced up at him. ”I love them. They make you who you are”, you told him sincerely, and with half a smile, he brushed his thumb across your cheek.

”That’s how I feel ’bout the things that make you insecure”, he reminded, and admitting defeat, you nodded. You may have struggled to love all of your body, but Frank did it for you, always happy to map out everything he adored so much.

”Now, c’mere, lemme get some sunscreen on you, yeah? Y’know I like any opportunity to get my hands on ya”, he suggested, and snorting, you grabbed the lotion, wagging it in front of him.

”Only if I get to return the favor.”

[leewritestoomuch]

I've been so obsessed with Rock Lee for the last few months after getting into Naruto and I'm so glad someone's taking requests for my favourite ninja! If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to see you write Rock Lee helping reader stretch before a work out but since reader isn't really flexible or is just not all that active, they make a lot of, ahem, suggestive noises while stretching. Love your work, can't wait to see more!!

Rock Lee Helping Reader Stretch

Warnings: Suggestive, borderline NSFW. It’s implied.

Basically: You make noises while stretching that Rock Lee’s horny brain can’t ignore.

Recently, your joints and muscles have been killing you. Maybe your half ass stretching routine wasn’t doing the trick, you figured. Even though you knew change had to happen, you just didn’t know how to stretch your muscles out properly for the extensive training you do with Lee.

Usually he shows up earlier than you, so you don’t see him stretching, but you know he’s keen on making sure he stretches properly so he’s probably stretching for a while beforehand. So you decide to show up 40 minutes before you usually would, seeing him just now setting up to stretch and warmup.

He’d clearly been out jogging prior to this. And in your mind, you know he’s done a runners stretch so isn’t that enough? Why does he need to stretch again? (Him and Gai would both scream at you for this way of thinking)

“Hi Lee.” You greet him with a small smile, already exhausted from the training you haven’t even started just by looking at his energetic, muscular self. Somewhere in your mind, you’ve managed to convince yourself that you’re winded from the walk to the training grounds, and that Lee is not the reason your breath catches in your throat.

You’ve seen him like this for so long, I mean, you’re on the same team as him now. The only 4 person squad, 5 if you count Gai sensei. You’re so close to all of them, and that’s been normal. Perfectly normal. But recently, your eyes linger on Lee just a little too long.

“Oh hey y/n! I didn’t see you there!” He smiles, the white of his teeth flashing at you in the sun line. Sometimes you wonder how he’s so positive, but then again, you don’t mind it so much anymore. He literally glows though, you swear on it.

“Can I ask you a favor?” You ask, suddenly a little nervous. Your palms are sweating. You try to ignore that.

“Of course! What is it that you want to ask?” He asks, enthusiastically. His smile is almost infectious.

“My joints and muscles ‘n shit are killing me. Can you help me stretch? I don’t know what I’m doing wrong…” You move your neck like you’re trying to get out a knot or something.

Lee agrees, and decides to start simple. He has you put your arms behind your back, your hands joined together, and tells you to stretch them back as far as you can. Then do the same with the front.

After that, he has you do a similar thing with your hands joined over your head before moving down to the ground to stretch out your upper body best. Then your shoulders, elbows, and neck all separately. Then he has you get on the ground to stretch out your back.

And maybe he didn’t think too much about the position, but have you stretch your back up and lower yourself down also meant your ass was up in the air as you arched your back. You realize how embarassing the position is, and what you don’t notice is the way his cheeks flush and he pries his eyes away from your body.

“U-uh great! Let’s do legs!” He says rather quickly, helping you to get into as low of a splits position that you can, before having you lean forward. To get the best stretch, he pushes down on your body a tiny bit. And before you can stop yourself, you let out a moan.

His hands still against your back, and your eyes go wide as you freeze too. Soon you feel him move away, telling you to switch sides. And he repeats the same thing on this side. Much to your disdain, an even louder moan accidentally slips from your mouth. Curse yourself for not being able to be quiet at a time like this.

When you finally sit back up, he’s staring at you. You can’t help but gulp down any salvia you had in your mouth. Then you notice the way his hands are covering the front of his pants. When he notices where your eyes shifted, his blush intensifies and he starts stammering.

“I-I am so sorry! I didn’t mean— you were just—“ you cut his rambling off with a kiss, crawling over closer to him. You situate yourself on his lap, his hands darting out for your hips. The kiss doesn’t break until you’re both desperate for more air than you can get with your mouths connected. Before your mutual panting even halts, he smashes his lips back onto your desperately. And at this point, he’s boldly getting handsy.

You can feel the desperation and lust through his finger tips and they find their way around your body. Any curve, dip, anything, he feels for it. And soon he’s laying back on the grass, panting as a string of saliva connects the both of you even as you part.

The look in his eyes told you that what was about to happen at these training grounds should not happen at the training grounds. Your eyes told him you didn’t care the least about that, however.

[gay-dorito-dust]

I fee like Jason would gently but firmly break off his relationship with his s/o because he'd want to try to distance you from his vigilante life, he'd obviously never tell you about his other life. he'd try to convince you to move out of Gotham, maybe after dumping you he'd convince one of your friends to contact a relative of yours who lives far outside Gotham to try to entice you out of the city because he can't fully concentrate knowing Gotham could get you at any moment.

If you don't leave you'd find that you escape a lot of situations you shouldn't and that known bad guys even pretty big criminals tend to just leave you alone and pretend you don't exist even if you happen to find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time, a random goon will just escort you out or a mugger would realise his mistake and beg forgiveness and leave all your belongings safely beside you. Redhood follows you a lot not that you know, he wouldn't want to frighten you, on some nights he'll sleep on your balcony or your fire escape just to be near you.

I’m basically reiterating what you’ve already said because it’s so fucking good anon. You took my singular braincell. How dare. 🦦

.Jason cannot focus on both keeping you safe and on clearing Gotham. It’s just not realistic. So if one thing had to give then Jason would selflessly chose to save you from a life of constantly look in over your shoulder. You deserve a better life and unfortunately Jason knows that you’ll never get that dream life staying in Gotham.

.Redhood had a plethora of enemies and Jason didn’t want you to become a victim of his acts of vigilantism. It wasn’t fair on you but Gotham never was or is a fair city for anyone involved. You could be alive and content one moment but dead in a dingy alleyway with corrupt people trying to gloss over your murder the next.

.So like you said anon. He goes to every contact he had that could help him in getting you moved out of Gotham, whether that be friends, family, whoever could aid Jason speed up the process in getting you settled in elsewhere was more then welcomed by him.

.Breaking up with you would be the worst thing Jason ever had to do, which is saying something, but again as much as Jason wanted to be a selfish man, he couldn’t bring himself to keep you in a city that will ultimately be the death of you both in a literal and metaphorical sense. He thought he had finally got the chance to be happy and get to live out his life with you, but when the villain of the week vaguely mentioned you in some capacity, Jason’s blood ran cold as everything in his body went mental; screaming at him to end this fucker right here and now for daring to mention you and demand how they knew.

.However he knew that’s what they wanted confirmation but still a part of his brain made him believe that they already knew of your relationship with redhood and that scared Jason unlike anything else. You were his Achilles heel and he hadn’t even realised that until the moment you were being threatened. And at that point Jason was at a loss of what to do to prioritise your safety because he would do absolutely anything to protect you and keep you safe but sometimes the best thing for him to do was to let you go and hope that you live a better life elsewhere. Far, far, far away from Gotham.

. Maybe sometime in the future when things have calmed down, he’ll visit but that’s never a guarantee. He thinks himself a death omen and he’d rather you live in safety and security. So he stays in Gotham as though he was chained to the damned city. Forbidden from ever leaving. Yet he’ll never forget you and everything you’ve done for him, I’d like to think he’d keep one thing that reminds him of you as a reminder of all the good times you’ve shared. Jason knew his heart would always belong to you and the item he kept was only a reminder of that.

.If you don’t move out of Gotham however, you start to realise that you are the most Luckiest/safest person if there ever was one. Goons, villains, thugs, all of them avoid you as though you were the plague, like you possessed something so potent that had them retreating back into the shadows, hissing as though you’ve burned them without touching them.

Which you did and he happened to be the infamous Redhood. Nobody fucks with you when Redhood is your silent but slightly terrifying guardian looming over you from the rooftops, daring anyone to try anything within his presence and to see where it gets them.

. A thug could’ve been gunning to steal your bag after managing to corner you in some dingy alleyway, holding you a knifepoint, and all of a sudden all the colour in their face vanish as their eyes flickered upwards and boom. Redhood. The thug is shitting it, their eyes are bulging out of their head as they throw the bag back at your feet and mutter ‘I ain’t planning on dying over some stupid bag, fuck that.’ Before running away with their tail between their legs like a little bitch.

. You, confused, would look up in the same place that the thug did. Only to find absolutely nothing before shrugging your shoulders. ‘Must be the drugs he was taking.’ You’d conclude before continuing on your way home to your beautiful boy, Jason.

. I’d like the idea that you caught Redhood sleeping out on your balcony/fire escape one night and now not only are you taking care of your beloved boyfriend but also a 6’2 vigilante who’s built like a brick house with guns strapped to any part of him that you could see. It’s cute and adorable because you’d probably also come to the conclusion that he was the reason why you were being left alone, and to show your gratitude to him you start leaving food, drink and something comfortable to sleep in out for him whenever you could alongside a note that said; ‘thank you for looking out for me but please for the love of god take care of yourself.’

. Jason loves it and finds it’s unbearably cute as he perched himself on your balcony/fire escape, eating your food and making himself comfortable for the night while you slept. He wished he could at least kiss your forehead and wish you a goodnight sleep but he knew he couldn’t and he hated it but as long as you were safe, that’s all Jason could ever ask for. He’ll shower you in affection soon but tonight he was on watch duty.

[esggs]

Obeisance to the Arrow - Noritoshi Kamo

#8 : Ice-Cream Date 

[why should you trust Noritoshi Kamo? Why should he trust you?]

[tw: noritoshi kamo x reader, arranged marriage, Danny DeVito, forced marriage, child marriage, small filler chapter a bit to round out the plot, omg they’re getting along, house captivity, fluff]

#7 - Jealousy, Jealousy

“This is not fun at all.” You huff at Noritoshi Kamo. “I want to throw flying kicks.”

Your husband has got you doing warm-up shit for the past half an hour: running, touching toes, stretching. For someone who spitefully promised to replace Kanato, his half-brother, as your martial arts tutor, he’s not letting you do much of martial arts. Only the promise of letting you shoot arrows from his bow is making you not immediately leave the training room.

“You’ll injure yourself if you do all that without any prior training. We’ll go step-by-step. Now–” Kamo leans over you from behind, lightly pulling your waist to correct your downward dog form (you reckon your blush can be put down to exercise; you’re just 14 after all). “– Distil me, and predict my next movements. That’s useful in combat.” 

Is this a test? Noritoshi knows that you’re strictly forbidden from using your cursed technique, under the threat of heavy punishment. Maybe he’s trying to get me into trouble so I can’t go to Jujutsu High. But… didn’t he sign my school admission papers himself? Did he change his mind?

“I never use Distillation, not since I came here.” You’re not taking any chances. Going to Jujutsu High is literally the only way you can be independent. Or else you live the rest of your life like Miyumi Kamo does: disrespected and discarded once her use was over. So you lie through your teeth: “I don’t even remember how to use it.”

“It’s impossible to forget your cursed technique. It’s engraved onto your brain, body and soul. So go ahead, Distil me.”

What game are you playing, Kamo?

“I can’t.”

“You already did, didn’t you?” Your heart skips a beat. Fuck. “Every night when you think I’m asleep. So go ahead now,” Kamo face is straight, no taste of humour or anger in it. “Read my thoughts.”

There’s no point hiding it now. You’re struck seeing your situations so plainly: Noritoshi Kamo is the heir of the opulent and influential Kamo Clan. You are his wife and nothing more. He has the power to decide whether your cursed technique usage goes punished or praised. He has the power to ruin your life. Right when you were forming buds of friendship, you are starkly reminded of the difference between your stations.

And you can’t not be you. “I don’t take commands.” I’m fucking this up so bad. “You might be angry about the whole Kanato thing, but don’t burden me with your issues. I don’t take commands.” Shit. I’m done for. I’m not going to Jujutsu High, am I?

You don't understand Kamo, not even after all the times you've read his mind through and through, because he simply nods. Nothing more. “A request then?” He makes an effort, you can tell, to soften his voice.

You stand still like a statue. All he was trying was to give some space to practise your cursed technique; he just ended up pushing you back into your shell. Or rather a fortress, where you, a scared little child, hoard other people’s secrets, to be used against them when the time comes... the only defence you have. And to think that he was actually doing so well trying to get you to come out of there. How do I fix this?

“Do you want to go out for ice-cream?” 

Your eyes open wide in shock. You’re usually not allowed to leave the Kamo estate; the last time you did was maybe 2 years ago? You don’t even remember. 

“Out?”

“It’ll be my treat, don’t worry. No one will say anything.”

Can he actually do that? Can he convince the elders? You’re a threat to society, you’ve internalised that by this point. Isn’t it wrong for you to go out?

—---

“I love going out! This is AMAZING!” You can’t stop taking pictures of everything- everyone! So many people! So many things to see! The smell of roasting dalgona, the lanterns hanging from cables overhead, the latest streetwear-clad bikers smoking, the businessman walking briskly, the mother scolding her children! Aeon Mall, Porta, Kyoto Station Building– you’re going through all of them, making the most out of your day out!

“You’ll be able to go out whenever you want when you’re in Jujutsu High.” Kamo, carrying your many shopping bags, reminds you calmly. You seem to have gotten over prior spat. 

“Take a picture of me here!” “I want to try double-decker donuts!” “Let’s get these Prada shawls, please, Noritoshi-san!” 

She’s so lucky she was born into money. Noritoshi enjoys seeing you this ecstatically happy. It’s just the two of you, Kamo doesn’t need any bodyguards or handlers. As you sit for an Italian dinner, he decides that it’s okay to breach your previous topic.

“yn, I’m very curious–”

“Do you think those shoes that guy’s wearing are ugly? 'Cuz I think they’re Danny DeVito level ugly.”

“– Gossiping isn’t good. As I was saying, I really want to know how your powers work, yn. Would you be okay telling me?”

You laugh at him, cheeks full of penne alfredo. “I don’t know much either, frankly. I wasn’t allowed to look into it, you know. Besides, if you’re looking for a method to block it, give up. Not even Gojo Satoru could do that.”

Kamo’s eyes are keen. “Why not?”

“Because it works on photons of light. Gojo’s Infinity works on matter, not light, because otherwise he’d be invisible. Distillation can speed up light in a very specific way so that I can 'see' glimpses of the past... understand the story, in a way. Anything I perceive with my eyes, I can Distil. Everything I can see, I know.” You say. "I kept getting headaches because it was just too much information at once, so I made a Binding Vow. I have to ask a very specific question so that I get a very specific answer, but in exchange I get to know answers for at least 50 years back in the past."

To think this talent was to be wasted. “You’re incredible.” I’ll protect her. I’ll have to. 

That also reminds him. “So all those times you Distilled me at night, you didn't ask if was sleeping?"

You smile sheepishly, "I was sure that you were."

He returns your smile. A rare moment. "So you know me, then?”

“Thoroughly.”

“Then you know that I am not your enemy.”

“I reckon.”

“And that I am trustworthy.”

You laugh. He might be as trustworthy as the sun, but you don’t know how to trust others. Still- "I'm sorry for Distilling you when you were asleep."

"I'd rather you ask me before you do that the next time. It's more polite." He uses the toasted bread to scoop up some pasta sauce. You copy him. "I see that there's no point keeping secrets from you?"

"Absolutely none."

"Then it's my right that you keep none from me, either."

Eh? He's not wrong but... He's asking you to trust him. Like friends do. Like married couples do. For all that he is, Noritoshi Kamo has no leverage in front of his wife: you alone decide how much you want to reveal to him.

"Alright, then. Whatever you ask me, I'll answer you honestly, as long as it is okay to do so." You promise. Kamo wipes a smidge of sauce from your cheek with a tissue. His way of saying, "Thank you."

“Noritoshi-san, teach me to spar properly. I don’t want to appear so weak among my classmates.”

“Is that a command?” You’re about to excuse yourself when you notice that he’s smiling. Holy fuck, he’s making a joke??

“Yes, Lord Kamo.” You play along.

“As you wish, Lady Kamo.”

[21wanderer]

Mason and the golden skin

A special thanks to @dulafer, who helped me come up with the idea after having hit a minor writer's block Body a day - #14: Battery

Mason had been envious of his classmate Chris since the first day he met him at Colchis University, so much so, that it had become an obsession. He envied him, he envied him so strongly that all he could think about was becoming him. Every thing about Chris, he desired and longed for, so much so that it became unbearable.

One of Mason’s former highschool classmates, Jed, was also studying at Colchis, studying both neurology and engineering. When Mason confessed his feelings towards Chris, Jed became lost in thought. The silence was eerie, but Jed was definitely contemplating Mason’s thoughts.

“If you really could switch places,” Jed said after the very long pause, “would you?” “Yes!” Mason blurted without hesitation. “Even if it meant giving your life to him?” Jed asked. Mason was a bit more reluctant this time, he hadn’t actually considered that, but if he had to swap places with Chris, it made sense, that Chris had to be somewhere else. But there would be no way, that Chris would ever accept that. “I’m sure, I’ll manage…” Mason said nonchalant.

Jed seemed very interested in the conundrum, but more out of curiosity than envy nor desire.

“If I come up with a solution – I want you to do something for me…” Jed said looking up at Mason. “What do you want?” Mason asked. “I want you, or rather you in Chris’s body as my boyfriend.” Mason blushed, “you have a crush on me?” “Maybe,” Jed answered clearly embarrassed and uncomfortable, not even looking at Mason anymore.

“Hey,” Mason began softly, breaking the awkward silence, he walked over to Jed, then pushed Jed’s chin up so that they had eye contact. “If you are really willing to do this for me… Then you might as well call me your boyfriend already,” he said, touched by Jed’s sentiment.

Two semesters later they came up with a prototype for a body-swapping device, technically it was a mind-swapping device. It would carry the full neurological pattern between two brains within a very short distance. Mason had to get Chris somewhere secluded, so that no interference was possible, and he had to take a clean shot. Jed was confident, it would work, but there were many potential risks. The device looked similar to a tablet with a camera attachment, except for the fact that the tablet part mostly consisted of batteries in a series. The device took an unbelievable amount of power, 75% of the device’s weight consisted of the batteries powering it.

Jed somehow managed to arrange a meeting with Chris at a remote part of campus. Mason wouldn’t have been successful if he had tried, after all Chris knew him, but Jed didn’t actually tell Mason, exactly how he managed to convince Chris to turn up at that place. But he did, and armed with the tablet-camera-thingy, Mason was prepared to welcome the unsuspecting Chris, who arrived on his bike.

“What are you doing here?!” Chris drawled as he noticed Mason, “is this some kind of joke?!”

Mason was nervous, almost afraid, but still infatuated and smitten with Chris. Mason let his envy consume him, he took some big steps directly towards Chris, aimed the device at his face, and pressed the button. There was a blinding light, and they both felt like they had been electrocuted, their bodies were shaking, but they couldn’t see anything.

Then Mason could see again, no longer blinded by the light, he could see himself, but from a taller perspective. He wasn’t looking in a mirror, the device had worked.

Mason’s body was still dazed and confused, the device fell out of his hand and hit the ground.

Mason was in awe. Chris’s body was all his, this perfect body was all his. He didn’t get to enjoy the moment for long however, he was ripped out by his stream of consciousness, when he heard his old voice shout at him: “What the hell have you done?!”

Chris had apparently already figured out exactly what had happened, there was a look of pure hatred in his eyes.

Mason’s body picked up the device. “You aren’t getting away with this. I’m gonna take my body back, and then… And then you won’t even live long enough to regret this!” Mason’s voice snarled, his words dripping with loathing and vindictiveness. Mason had a feeling something was wrong, he could smell burnt ‘something’, rubber or plastic maybe, the smell definitely came from the device, it was about to break down. Even a single use had put massive strain on the batteries, the device couldn’t handle another swap.

Mason in Chris’s body froze, blinded by the bright light, but also something else, it was like his mind was clouded by all sorts of unrecognisable impressions.

Mason’s body fell unconscious to the floor, but Mason was still looking at it from Chris’s perspective, he felt a bit of satisfaction seeing his former body collapse. But to make sure nobody would accuse him of anything, he picked up the foul-smelling device and stuffed it in Chris’s bag, then he begrudgingly called an ambulance. Then he went over to his unconscious body and more by instinct than choice began to perform CPR on it, then it dawned on him… He did not know, how to perform CPR, but Chris did. The faulty device must have transferred parts of Chris’s consciousness to him. He was still Mason at heart, he knew that much.

Mason’s body was taken away by the paramedics, as Chris explaining something about having witnessed Mason having a heart attack or something. With the ambulance gone, Mason could finally wrap his head around the other dramatic events. The faulty device had transferred Chris’s memories to him, he wouldn’t have any problem fooling everyone, he didn’t have to pretend to be Chris, he was Chris.

[hyuuukais]

✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡ SUNSHINE AND STRAWBERRIES

pairing ☆ lee felix x fem reader

synopsis ☆ Y/N is a new streamer. after months of planning, and her best friend & now fellow streamer han jisung convincing her, she makes a twitch and youtube account. thanks to jisung giving her a shoutout to his own huge following, she gains some unexpected overnight fame. but what was more unexpected was waking up to see her long-time favourite comfort streamer _sunshine.bbokari_ following her.

warnings ☆ swearing

[TAGLIST -> CLOSED]

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

☆partially written chapter, 6 screenshots☆

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE ☆ COMING CLEAN

When you look up, your eyes lock with Kai's across the room, who gives you a thumbs up. The backup plan was he'd act like he just came in, notice you, and make up something normal enough to seem believable, rambling while bringing you out leaving no room for questioning. While you feel ready to tell Jake, you have no idea how he'll respond, so an out was needed.

After a few minutes of waiting, someone slides across from you. Your eyes stay on the table, too nervous to look at him. It's been so long... what if you look up and all you see in his eyes is disappointment? Or anger? Or hate?

He could hate you, you think, if he doesn't already, he will after this. Y/N, how could you?

The little voice in your head doesn't stop, breathing becoming shallow. A hand rests softly on your wrist, bringing you back to reality- it's Jake, of course it's Jake.

"Dont listen to the voice," He says softly, eyes knowing. "Just tell me what it is."

"I..." You rub your collarbone with your free hand. "Promise you won't hate me?"

Bewildered, he shakes his head, looking away briefly only to look back more intensely then before.

"Y/N I could never hate you." His voice is low. "You could break my heart into a million pieces, I still wouldn't be able to hate you."

Tears prickle at the edges of your eyes. A waitress is about to approach, but seeing your expression and the way Jake's hand is still resting on yours, she turns to another table. Part of you so desperately wants- no, needs- an interruption.

Kai watches the two of you from afar, wondering if he should step in when he sees your panicked look. But you said wait for the signal, two taps to your right temple.

"C'mon, Y/N, you've got this..." Kai sips his drink, leg bouncing, anticipation coursing through his body.

Your eyes brush over him, but quickly look back to Jake with a deep breath.

"When you told me how you felt, I panicked. I didn't know how to respond, so I..." You break eye contact sheepishly. "I made something up. The boyfriend thing it... wasn't true. At the time, I thought it would hurt you less! Saying I had a boyfriend instead of just saying straight up, 'hey I don't like you like that! Sorry to break it to you!' But I know now how stupid that was-"

"You and Felix though-" Jake takes his hand away finally, and you could see the gears in his brain working. "It was all fake?"

When he looks up at you, you see more confusion than hurt.

"Um, yeah. But it's real now."

"Wait, wait, wait," He holds up his hands in a stopping motion. "What?"

"We were fake dating and now real dating?" You shrug.

There's a beat where no one says anything. Silence heavy, anxiety high, Jake's hands still in the air before suddenly dropping in a laugh.

"How the hell did you manage to actually pull the Lee Felix?!" He shakes his head more, leaning back with a smile on his face. "That's actually- wow. I can't- wow!"

Now you're more confused then ever.

"You're not... mad?

"Mad? No- well, maybe a bit upset you lied, but then I have to think, would I have done different?" Jake pretends he's deep in thought, hand rubbing his chin. "Yeah, probably. But who knows for sure that I wouldn't have faked a girlfriend?"

You laugh, tension easing away slowly.

"I'm sorry for blocking you," Jake's tone turns serious, causing the tightness in your chest to return. "Not my best idea, but I didn't know what to do. It was hard seeing you everywhere, and I needed to clear my head, feel my feelings." He looks away, cheeks flushed. "What if I told you I met someone while we weren't talking? And that she helped me a lot with getting over you? Like talking through stuff, helping me realize I'd rather have you as a friend over anything else... and in the process I may have... fell for her?"

He looks so embarrassed you can't help the giggle that escapes you.

"Oh my god?" You gasp, trying to contain yourself. "That's so- of course you would!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jake's cheeks burn a brighter shade of pink.

"Nothing, just- that's so... almost sweet?" A disgusted look crosses your face. "You didn't hear that from me." He laughs. "I'm happy for you, but damn did blocking me hurt. I might need some time before we get back to normal, but this is a good start."

"I totally understand that," A small smile forms on his face. "Why don't we go ahead and finally order? Oh, and tell Kai he can join us."

"You- you knew he was here?!" It was your turn to blush.

"He's kinda hard to hide..."

You both burst into giggles, signalling Kai to join your table.

☆~☆~☆

notes ☆ it's out in the open !!!!! i was like hmm i COULD make this kinda sad, but decided not to bc y/n deserves a string of good things rn

taglist ☆ @marcillfll @toplinelix @neri-ner @tfshouldidohere @imasimplol @samvagejkflxhrt @yennifersgeralt @aestheticsluut @cherryuqii @tenebrisirae @roseidol @veryjeongintxtkid @amara-mars @chrizzlaptop @bmnyy @sheeshhhhfelixsworld @ellelabelle @gini143 @mrsseals16 @veedoesntknaur @channiesstars @daydreamer5006 @luvvvash @amesification @skzswife @blamemef0rit @soulphoenix1618 @lovingmny @stvrfir3 @boo-ven9eance @adestayskz @rag-iii @enchantedgrunge @mytherapisttoldmenotto @strawberry-dreamland @oh-my-fancan @lucktales @cookielino @fantasyaddict123 @sleeplessmin @alexxxxxthebitxh @flirtyskzbutterfly @vixensss @hannahs-docx @hash2013 @jellsxox @sserafimez @theblindhag @liknws @hannahhbahng

pink means i can't tag you

[bloodlessbelmounte]

Eternity Will Bring You Near - Chapter 1

Masterlist

Summary:

Wade understood that Logan was from a world where Alpha, Beta and Omega were everyday terms, not exclusive to red-pilled incel fuckheads who kept inventing new performative male genders. Wade would've been classified as a Beta. Logan, however, was an Alpha - Wade's read enough fanfiction and yaoi manga to know what that means. Though it doesn't explain why Logan keeps sniffing him.

Pairing: Alpha!Worst Wolverine/Deadpool

Genre: A/B/O, Smut, Domestic-ish

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, Blood, Mild Gore/Body Horror, Masturbation, Additional warnings to be added as more chapters are uploaded.

Beginning Note: This was originally meant to be a crackfic but the bitch decided to become a multichapter project instead. I never thought I would get brain rot this severe over a movie of all things. The toxic old man yaoi really is a hell of a drug.

Cross posted to AO3

Heya kiddos- well actually no I hope you’re not kiddos. The following events aren’t exactly G-rated. Scratch that, not G-rated in the slightest. See the author’s girlfriend asked them if they had written anything gay before because and I quote “You’re the type of person I imagine would – you are very gay” and was very surprised to find her partner had, in fact, not written gay porn for a rabid audience (though they once wrote reader insert smut for one of the most rabid fan-bases – BTS anyone?). Lucky for her, the author’s autistic ass is currently hyper-fixated on my movie and has watched it twice. Now I know what you’re thinking: another re-imagining of the icon and highly erotic Honda Odyssey scene that the Tumblr girlies are going feral over? Sadly no, there are over a hundred-and-sixty interpretations of that situationship on AO3 already and the author is not up to that task. Self-conscious and insecure fuckface they are. Oh b-t-dubs, this will have mixed perspectives. So without further ado, let’s fucking do this. Maximum effort.

Deadpool didn’t imagine his epic team-up with his hero of heroes to end this way. With his noble self-sacrifice, blue anti-matter coiled around his wrist, coursing through his veins and dismantling him atom by atom and him helplessly reaching for the matter contained on the other side of this fucking bridge. No, to be honest, he imagined it ending with maybe a few drinks in a bar to celebrate victory before trying to convince Wolverine to hate fuck him. When have things ever gone his way?

You will never save the world. Ya couldn’t even save a relationship with a god damn stripper.

“Not now, flashbacks.”

Grunts of effort and pain as he was on the verge of dislocating his shoulder to just fucking reach the other fucking side. He had to save them. Give Peanut the restart he deserved. Give this world the hero it deserved. Madonna’s ‘Like a Prayer’ was ringing through his ears as he knew he needed a miracle. And just like a prayer answered, Wolverine was right there with him, gripping tightly to his reaching hand and bridging the gap. He had a few precious seconds to appreciate the washboard glistening abs that were explosively -gloriously- exposed to his greedy eyes before Madonna and the pain crescendoed. Oh, what he would’ve done to at the very least get a bit of frottage from that meal of a man. Deadpool and Wolverine’s shouts of agony as energy tore through them intermingled, part of the chorus only he could hear.

White. Everything was white. Burning hot and blinding. Then there was…

Nothing. No pain. No heat. Just weightlessness.

Until his body collided with a wall with a thunk and sprawled onto the ground. He couldn’t get up immediately, his healing factor working overtime to patch up the spider webbing network of atomised damage. Once the pain was tolerable enough, Deadpool stumbled up to his feet with gritted teeth. What did people say? Pain lets you know you are still alive. Well, he was definitely alive then. The smoke and debris in the air made it hard to breathe let alone see through his mask, that wouldn’t do. Ripping the miraculously intact material off, Wade idly wondered why his clothes were fine. Did the universe decide he was too much of an eyesore to strip? Or more logically, Logan’s metal skeleton made him more conductive. Shit.

Wade scanned the destroyed room, trying to catch a glimpse of neon yellow. Panic seeped in when he couldn’t immediately spot the older mutant. Please don’t be vaporised.

“Wolvie? Peanut?!”

A groan came from across the other side of the wreckage. Groaning was good. Groaning – in this case – meant pain or annoyance, which meant functional nervous system. Good. Good. Now, how to get across. Bridge is out of the question, it’s royally fucked. Which left clambering over crumbled walls that blocked the walkways. Goal set, Wade navigated his way over to roughly where he heard the groan emanate from, muscles protesting the whole time. Bright yellow peaked out from underneath the rubble. Logan’s knee to be precise. Wade sighed.

“Maximum effort.”

Wade got to work, moving aside the bricks that had landed on top of his partner, revealing a barely lucid Wolverine and- Holy shit. Big fuck off piece of metal shelving right through the stomach. Wade was pretty sure the only reason Logan wasn’t bisected was because of those metal bones of his.

“Take a deep breath, Honey Badger, this is going to hurt worse than the reviews for the Borderlands movie. Can you believe they’ve gotten a nine percent critics score on Rotten Tomatoes while we have a seventy-eight? They weren’t too happy about all the rectal stabbings. Have they not heard of queer allegory? Though we’re ninety-five from audiences. Must be all the sexual tension between us.”

As Wade was prattling on – partly running his mouth as always and partly to distract Logan – he unsheathed his katanas and slotted them into the wound and wiggled them under the metal.

“The fuck are y’doing, Bub?” Logan seethed through gritted teeth, trying to sit up only to be pushed back down again by the merc.

See Wade wasn’t always an idiot- “Hey I take offence to that.” -but he could have a smart idea every once in a while, such as now. Knowing that he did not possess the strength to pull out - “My pull-out game is strong I’ll have you know.” - the sheet of metal, a proper application of force would allow him to lever it out. Taking turns with what katana he pushed down on, he eventually worked the shelf out far enough for him to straddle the other man’s lap and rip it out the rest of the way with a wet squelch. Next to come out were his beloved weapons which he wiped in his elbow crease then re-sheathed.

Immediately Logan’s thatched lickable abs started to knit themselves back together. And Wade couldn’t stop his hands from wandering; tracing up his chest and neck to grab those blowjob handles, lean down, and finally kiss the crotchety old fuck like he’d been dying to for the past seventy-two hours. Because in for a penny in for a pound, who knows if he’d see him again when all is said and done. Logan went stiff beneath him and Wade froze in place, knowing in his bones that he was going to get pushed off. But then Logan relaxes and his arms wrap around Wade’s waist to pull him closer, his tongue sweeps across the seem of scarred lips asking for entry. Which is enthusiastically granted. Blood and iron assaults Wade’s taste buds as teeth knock and tongues dance. Of course, being over two hundred would make Wolvie a great kisser, the man wasn’t contractually allowed a flaw under Disney. As much as Wade would have loved to carry on sloppily making out and maybe slip his hand down what remains of Logan’s suit, he knew that even though he wouldn’t mind beating the crap out of a bureaucrat with a raging hard-on, the man beneath him probably would. And so semi-reluctantly Wade broke away with a sigh, Logan’s hands shifting to lightly grasp his hips.

“We should show that motherfucker upstairs just how alive we are.”

Of course, you gays, gals, and non-binary pals know what happens after that. We march our asses up to those pencil pushers resulting in two iconic lines – one of which is an Oscar-worthy delivery of my favourite word. There were some extreme levels of sexual tension between B-15 and Peter, Logan and I regenerate my timeline meaning my plan fucking worked and Logan got to stay here. We also got a fat stack of compensation each for our efforts. Now we cut to shawarma and see things from a grumpy puppy’s perspective.

Logan knew to expect some differences between this universe and his original such as there still being living X-men. And he knew that there was the fundamental difference of a lack of secondary sexes here but the distinct absence of pheromones everywhere made the air here seem… cleaner? Almost overwhelming in its purity. The scent of pollution, of food being prepared, of dog piss on the pavement undiluted. No Alphas peacocking. No Omegas trying to suppress and get by. Just “average” people living average lives. Like what was happening in front of him.

Logan, with arms crossed over and leaning against a wall, watched in amusement (not that he’d ever admit to it) as Wade went to place his order at the shawarma place he had led him to.

“I’ll have one beedo beedo, a chocobo supreme, and a mountain boo bah. What would you like Honey Badger?” Wade asked his elbow on the counter top, head resting on his hand as his body was turned to face his partner, ignoring how the server was looking at him like he’d grown three heads.

“Sir, this is a shawarma joint, we only do shawarma here. I have no idea what a beedo beedo is-” The kid behind the counter tried to inform the ADHD-riddled regenerator only to be met with a finger over his lips as he was promptly shushed.

“We do the talking sweetums, you just be a little patient. Wolvie? Anything in mind?”

Some rest would be a good start, then a shower and bottle of whiskey. An explanation on that kiss back there. But food was a good start.

“Ignore his ramblings, he’s had multiple head injuries over the last few days. We’ll have two beef and one chicken, all the salad. Obviously tarator sauce in the beef and toum in the chicken. As for drinks, give us whatever beer y’d recommend.” Logan noticed Wade’s jaw drop out the corner of his eye as he rattled off a proper order. The kid behind the counter pushed the finger on his lips away and nodded, inputting the order and printing off the details to pass to the cook. “What? Did y’think I’d never had this before?”

Wade blinked at him, “Well… uh… to be honest yeah. Didn’t take you for the adventurist foodie type.”

“Need I remind y’of just how old I am, Bub? I was around when immigrants introduced this to the country.”

“Oh, so you’re the original trendsetter for your universe. Speaking of, I’ve seen the fanfictions and read the yaoi, did your world have fated pairs and heat cycles? Do male Omegas just have a dick and ass or do they have a vagina too? Or did they just have a vagina? Did you have to take suppressors for your ‘Alpha Ruts’ to reign in your primal instincts?” Wade’s eyes shone with curiosity as he fired off questions, “Oh are we going to have to deal with those now that you’re in residence here? Maybe I should ask that TVA lady to get you like an inter-dimensional prescription.”

Logan sighed and rubbed his face, he had been expecting this line of questioning. Honestly, he had expected them to occur in the Void after Wade got offended for being called a beta-

“What in the Andrew Taint bullshit is that? They have toxic masculinity red-pillers in your world too? And you’re one of them? For shame Logi Bear. That’s why you’re the Worst Wolverine.”

-and the subsequent misunderstanding was cleared up. At least in the Void, there were fewer witnesses.

“In order: Yes to both. Dick and Ass. Yes, it’s a pain to get by without them or a partner. And that’s all I’m telling y’because it doesn’t affect you.”

“That’s no fun. I need the juicy deets,” Suddenly Wade gasped and pointed at him, “Do you knot?! Bite on the nape of the neck? Oh, I think I might just pop a chub at this rate.”

Logan growled standing straight and emitting his pheromones on instinct, “Enough. As I said it doesn’t affect y’so y’don’t need to know.”

Silence. Finally silence. And the faintest smell of something sweet.

“Order up.”

Logan took his two beef and handed the chicken to Wade alongside a beer, his own stuffed into a jacket pocket. They sat outside the shop in silence and in the time it took for Logan to wolf down one and a half of his order, Wade had only finished half before he started talking again.

“You know, the Avengers discovered shawarma in the sacred timeline.” He said, mouth still full.

Logan glanced over at him, “They’d be lucky to have y’.”

Wade had a considering look in his eye as paused chewing then nodded. The guy still probably had his insecurities and self-doubt that Logan definitely exacerbated in the Honda. Just as they were about to take another bite, barking and the sound of scampering paws were heading right at the pair. It was that fucking dog.

“Oh~”

“Come on,” Logan groaned, head falling back.

“Fuck!” Wade threw his half-eaten wrap on the ground and began the daintiest clap Logan had ever seen done by someone other than a white girl, “Come over here my little munchkin! Yes, it’s you~. You’re a survivor.” Wade picked up the ugly little thing, squeezing her tight and kissing her on the head. “Oh, all is right in the world. Yes, it is.” Wade turned to him, eyeing him up and down, “So what are you going to do next?”

Logan shrugged, “I’ll figure it out. I always do.”

“That right? I’ll probably see you around,” A small smile was playing on his lips as he continued to gauge his response.

An impulsive thought wormed its way into his head, before he knew it he found himself quirking an eyebrow at the merc and proceeded to lie.

“Probably not. See y’, Bub.”

With that, he stood up and walked away as Wade continued to pet Dogpool. He threw the remains of his meal onto a table. A waste really. But all part of the plan. His pace was slow and measured, he was waiting. And when he heard the call of:

“Logan!”

He stopped, a small smile unable to be contained as Wade finally called him by his name. Not one of those childish nicknames. This had been what he was waiting to hear. He turned to face Wade, his expression schooled into a neutral facade.

“Stay with me- us.” Wade offered, pointing between himself and the dog.

Logan walked back over to him, “I thought y’shared a one-bedroom apartment with a lovely blind woman named Althea. Doesn’t sound like y’have much room for me.” Not much room in the apartment or his life. He wasn’t part of Wade’s world.

“There’s always room for one more. We have a pull-out sofa you can use. Not much privacy but it’s home. I only share a bed with Blind Al because I’ve been incredibly touch-starved since the breakup and need my bedtime cuddles.”

Logan huffed a chuckled, “That’s why I had to tie y’up, Bub.” A lie. In reality he had been planning to abandon Wade in that car. “Well, I’m not one to turn down a free roof over my head until I can sort out something more permanent.”

Before he knew it, he was following Wade to his home which was a lot closer to the TVA base and, subsequently, the shawarma shop than he had expected. Just down the street really. Meeting Al was sweet, it almost felt like being introduced to a parent back when he was a young man. And much like a mother, she swiftly turned in ire to Wade and slapped him on the arm with such precision Logan almost doubted her disability.

“Wade W. Wilson, you disappear after blowing out your birthday candles only to return with havoc in the streets and a man on your arm. You could have told us you were dating again. Peter was worried sick about you.”

It had been his birthday? The merc had spent his birthday trying to save his friends -his world – and was rewarded with a thorough verbal dressing down and a night of carnage in a car.

“Oh well, you know, it was the usual. I got abducted, told our universe was dying because someone had to go and nobly sacrifice themselves for the next generation of mutants. So then I hopped through multiple universes to find me a Wolverine who wouldn’t stab me on sight. Found this fella right here and got sent to the universal (not the studio) trash heap. Where I then proceeded to get my brain finger fucked by a bald long-nail-bedded bitch. Seriously they began at like her knuckle. Props to the costume department for that mildly disturbing detail.” Al’s inability to see didn’t stop Wade’s wild gesticulations as he described the events that happened to him. “And after a daring escape from her clutches, I had the best birthday car romp in a while. Became a real pin cushion for ‘im.” Wade sent Logan a wink.

Logan cleared his throat and avoided eye contact, a slight heat taking root in his ear at the implication behind those words. Al gagged.

“Wade, what I’m about to say is without a hint of homophobia: I don’t need to hear any more about your repulsive sex life. It’s bad enough I can hear you choking the chicken in the bathroom.”

Wade was laughing to himself as he meandered away from his now two room-mates and it was only slightly awkward until he returned with sweatpants and a tank top in hand. He shoved them into Logan’s chest along with a towel.

“Shower is through that door there,” He pointed to his right, “You reek of alcohol, blood, and Marvel H Christ knows what else. I doubt I smell much better – not like the Void had personal hygiene products lying around – but your odour can only be described as one of my twenty-eighteen suicide attempts from the second movie before I rewrote the events that triggered that spiral.” Wade looked off to the side, “You readers know which one I’m on about.” He mimicked an explosion sound as he ballooned his hands apart.

Logan was taken aback for a moment, processing that the seemingly always chipper buffoon had tried to kill himself at some point. However, he decided against acknowledging the trauma dump by just grunting his thanks. He took the offered clothes and beelined for the bathroom.

Alright fuck-os let’s focus on me again.

Shut up, Wade. I’m trying to write here.

Oh sure you are. I saw you reading other fanfics and some of my comic runs. And aren’t you on vacation now? I didn’t say you could take a break.

Sigh. Anyway…

Wade placed Mary Puppins on the floor and then immediately flopped onto the sofa, energy levels depleted and a deep set ache in his muscles. He waited for the sound of the shower starting before speaking.

“We’re not dating.”

“Not yet,” Al responded, somehow managing to give him a pointed look despite a) being blind and b) wearing sunglasses so he couldn’t see her eyes.

“The man hates me. Stabbed me many times on many occasions – not that I didn’t enjoy it.” Wade grumbled, sinking further into his seat.

“So why is he here?”

“He had nowhere else to go. I couldn’t just let him wander the streets after I abducted him. Not after he saved me.”

“So Vanessa announces she has a new boyfriend after you’ve been separated for two years and you went and kidnapped one for yourself. That’s a new kind of fucked up, even for you Wade.”

“Yeah I know, I’m a bigger fuck up than Ryan Reynolds accepting that Green Lantern role. I don’t need reminding. Again, we’re not dating. Manage to get your hands on some White Girl Interrupted while Feige’s attention was on the Void?”

“You might not be but you like him. You haven’t introduced someone to me like that since Vanessa. I still don’t know who the fuck Feige is but yes I did.”

“Good because I need some right now. I’m guessing you’ve put it in your sex toy drawer in an attempt to deter me but Al you always fail to remember very little disgusts me.”

Wade slapped his lap as he got up, signalling the end of the conversation. He went back to the bedroom and immediately opened the aforementioned drawer, sticking his hand in he rifled through dildos and vibrators of various shapes and sizes until he found a rectangular packet. Bingo. Oh, he was so going to build a snowman. Oh wait, this is fanfiction, not a movie, Feige has no control here. Wade can just say cocaine.

You guys are going to have to use your imagination here because the author doesn’t know how to write cocaine usage because they’re a pure little munchkin who only ever smoked weed like five times and sniffed poppers once.

Hey stop interrupting or I’ll make this a T rating.

Suitably buzzed and the throbbing ache of his muscles dulled, Wade grabbed a towel and a set of PJ’s to change into after his turn in the shower. His timing was seemingly perfect as he entered the living area just as Logan stepped out of the bathroom towelling his hair roughly, a steam plume framing him in a haze with the lighting hitting just right. The clothes lent to him a tight fit as they clung to the man’s muscular frame, hugging spots that weren’t completely dry yet. Dear lord, was that a dick print? Look at the size of that thing! He needed to French kiss whoever invented grey sweats. Whoever they are or were, he hoped they were getting laid six ways to Sunday. Wade found himself thanking whatever foresight he had since the white tank went near translucent in places like the dips of Logan’s abs and the swell of his pecs. He quickly wiped away the drool on the corner of his lips.

“Nice milk cans you got there, Wolvie. Hope you didn’t use up all the hot water,” Wade commented, eyes still roving over the other’s effortlessly erotic form. That’s the World’s Sexiest Man 2008 for you.

Logan slung the towel around his shoulders, a flush to his cheeks – from heat, Wade’s comment, or ogling who knows – as he seemingly took a moment to study the merc’s face.

“Is… Is that cocaine in y’nose? Y’pupils are dilated. Are y’high?” Logan scoffed in response, eyebrows pinched together.

Wade wiped his nose, “Did you know your pupils can dilate as much as fifty-five percent when you look at something or someone you love? Because I’m loving what a feast for my eyes you are.” He approached the grouchy man and rubbed a thumb between his eyebrows, which was swiftly slapped away with a grumble, “You shouldn’t frown so much, it’ll age you faster. As much as I am all for our old man yaoi dynamics I don’t want you looking like the Old Man Logan who shotgun blasted me.”

Wade patted Logan on the arm as he squeezed past him to get entry into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He chucked the towel and change of clothes onto the bathroom’s counter top, knocking over the toothbrush pot and a few other bits. He then stripped off the red leather suit, having to peel it away as dried blood and various other bodily fluids had acted as fucking glue. Bare as the day he was born, Wade turned the shower on and fiddled with the taps to get the temperature just how he liked it. Steamy, the same way he liked his homoerotic fight scenes.

Stepping in, Wade rolled his shoulders and took a moment to let the water ease his tight muscles.

“That’s the good stuff,” he moaned softly, tilting his head back eyes closed.

After what felt like a suitable amount of time had passed, he grabbed his loofah and body wash and went to town on getting the caked-on grime off of his scarred skin. The water flowing down the drain was a murky burgundy as sand, old blood, and who knows what else was washed away.

When the water turned clear Wade decided to focus on… other things. Mainly the beefcake wearing his clothes at that very moment, the walking wet dream he was. Visions of those sweaty tits floated through his mind, making his cock – which had already been at half-mast – twitch in interest. God, he had been dying to rub one out since he woke up tied against The Wolverine. He grasped himself firmly and gave a few tugs to get fully hard before teasing over the tip. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth as tried to stifle his whimpers. He worked over his shaft as he recalled how Logan had smiled during their scuffle in the Honda, how his blood had dripped onto the older man’s cheek and into his mouth – on those fangs. Logan had licked the blood off with an almost feral look in his eyes before launching him through the sun roof. Fuck. He wasn’t going to last with how pent-up he was. His grip tightened as he sped up his ministrations. He remembered the kiss after saving the multiverse as he came with an embarrassingly desperate groan. Logan had kissed him back. Had held him close. Yet when all was said and done, he had been ready to leave Wade behind. What a confusing, grumpy hunk. With a shaky exhale he turned off the shower.

Wade towelled off and got dressed. His chosen PJ’s for the night were lavender shorts and a Hello Kitty crop top. Hey – crop tops were invented by male bodybuilders to get around gym attire rules, so never let anyone tell you men can’t wear crop tops. With dramatic zeal, Wade threw open the door and strutted out of the bathroom. He was not expecting to have two pairs of hazel eyes looking right at him. One in disdain and one in… appraisal?

Laura. Laura was on his sofa. Why was she here? Oh god… did Laura hear him jerking off?!

“Oh.” Wade squeaked, mortified as his body tinged a dark red. “Hi there.”

The girl, so much like her father, grunted in response and turned away. Speaking of, Logan had yet to tear his eyes away and if Wade saw correctly, he seemed to be… sniffing?

“Enjoy y’shower, Red?” The smirking fucker asked, then gestured towards Laura, “The TVA just dropped her off. She has nowhere to crash so Althea kindly offered her y’spot on the bed.”

Wade gasped and marched round to stand in front of the pair, “What? Where am I supposed to sleep? On the floor?”

“I’m not going to make y’sleep on the floor in y’own home, Wade. Y’ll be bunking with me on the sofa.” Logan patted the free space next to him.

Wade stiffly sat down in the offered seat and whispered incredulously to the older man, “What about my bedtime cuddles?”

“I’m sure y’can make do without.” Logan deadpanned but that infuriating smirk was still plastered on his face.

It was quite the jump from it just being Wade and Al in the shitty one bed apartment to there now being four people in the space of a few hours.

Wade huffed and crossed his arms, “We need to find a bigger apartment… Anyone feel like Chinese food?”

There was a chorus of agreement. Wade took Al’s phone off the coffee table and opened up the delivery app he used most, his favourite Chinese take-out was top of the recommended list. He put in what he and Al usually ordered then passed the phone to Logan. His former eyebrows shot upwards as the bi-centenarian successfully navigated the menus and selected what he wanted. It was Laura who seemed perplexed by the menu and the food listed. It was a sweet moment, watching Logan awkwardly explain what everything was when asked. Despite being virtually strangers, there looked to be a genuine connection forming already. Kin recognising kin on that instinctual level only Wolverines can experience. Wade took the time to tell Al and Laura all about the epic battle in the streets and how they saved the world with the power of hand holding as they waited for their food to arrive.

“You know Peter will have told everyone by now that you’re back with company,” Al remarked, petting Mary Puppins who had situated herself on the elderly woman’s lap. “They’ll be over tomorrow, I just know it.”

Wade felt Logan go rigid beside him, was he worried about Negasonic and the other X-men in his makeshift family? Oh, that was going to be a weird meeting wasn’t it. Not because they’d be seeing a ghost of their Wolverine, no. Their Wolverine was still alive and kicking, after all it’s twenty-twenty-four at the moment not twenty-nine which was when his timeline’s Logan was scheduled to die. See, Wade had used that TVA device to jump forward in time and exhume his remains because for the TVA all timeline events are happening simultaneously. So these X-men would be seeing a stranger who looked like their Logan, and Logan would be seeing the faces of those he had already lost in his world knowing he was going to lose them here too. Wade made a silent vow to keep Negasonic, Yukio and Colossus away from Westchester when the time comes. He liked those ones.

…Wait. All that timey-whimey stuff meant that Paradox, the dickhead, was going to set off the Time Ripper five years before this timeline’s OG Logan was meant to die. Was he really so impatient to ‘prune’ the timeline that he wasn’t willing to waiting for the self-sacrificing fuck to actually do the thing?

“Everyone except Weasel – his actor has multiple sexual assault allegations against him and that’s not a good look for us,” Wade interjected in a most likely misguided attempt to lighten the mood. All it got him, however, was Laura and Logan staring at him. “Hey, I don’t keep people like that in my social circle. I’m a good boy. Consent is sexy and if someone doesn’t take no for an answer, stab ‘em. Solves everything.”

Laura nodded at the sagely advice then looked towards the door and stood up seconds before knocking resounded from the entry way. Wade handed her the tip money as she walked by to answer. Food secured, Wade stood up, washed up some cutlery that would be needed and handed them out as Logan helped Laura to sort out the food and Al turned on the TV – Golden Girls was already playing. They mostly ate in silence whilst Wade made comments about the episode that was met with “Shut up” from various people. It wasn’t long until Al was retiring for the night and taking Laura with her to sort some things to wear. The girl was briefly sent out with bedding, blankets and spare pillows for the sofa.

“We should probably get the bed set up, sounds like we’re in for a long day tomorrow,” Wade suggested while clearing away the take out containers.

“We should… but we still have those beers from the shawarma place. In the fridge, if y’d like to have them now,” Logan offered, collecting up the dirty cutlery to put in the already overflowing sink. He grunted at the sight of it.

Wade retrieved said beers and handed one to Logan who released a single claw and used it to pop the cap off. He then did the same to Wade’s, who found that all too attractive, he had to think of puppies being kicked to stop himself from popping a boner then and there.

“Cheers. To saving the world!” Wade toasted, clinking his bottle against Logan’s.

“To saving y’world,” Logan grumbled, immediately taking a deep swig.

“Any particular reason you wanted to share a drink with me, Peanut?” Wade asked, sitting back down on the cushion he had previously occupied, eyes following Logan as he sat on the opposite side of the sofa with legs spread. Slut.

“Deserve it after the shit we’ve been through. Not everyday people like us nearly die.” Logan answered, gesturing between them.

“Thank you, by the way, for not letting me face death alone in the end. Despite the noble sacrifice, I wasn’t lying when I said I was scared,” Wade said, shifting in his seat to bring both his feet up. It just never felt right to have them on the floor.

Logan growled, “Couldn’t exactly let y’. As I said, I had nothing left to live for. Would have left me stranded here with no fucking clue who anyone was if y’had succeeded. Asshole move on y’part.”

Wade nursed his beer as Logan spoke. Truthfully, he hadn’t thought that far ahead in his rushed plan to save everyone. He placed his drink on the coffee table and tried looking anywhere but at the man casually spread across his sofa. Candid moments came as naturally as bottoming to him. Not at all.

“In that moment, when you offered yourself up and held that picture, I thought I needed to save those I cared about. Apparently, in the three fucking days we’ve known each other for, you became the tenth person in my world. Saving everyone meant saving you too – despite the stabbing each other.”

The silence that came afterwards made him uncomfortable, had him reaching for his beer to keep his mouth busy. He could hear Logan gulping down his before hollow glass clinking on MDF resounded through the room with an accompanying sigh. Wade finally looked at the other man, who just seemed tired. Ready to call it a night.

“What’s done is done, Bub. Just glad we both survived to see another day.” Logan pointed to the mostly full bottle in Wade’s hands, “Y’gonna finish that?”

“Oh, uh yeah. Hang on.” In a similar display to what Logan had done in that dive-bar he dragged him out of, Wade necked the bottle of beer, some of the liquid dribbling out the corner of his mouth. He impressed himself with how he managed to chug it down without needing to breathe – he thought those binge drinking muscle memories had long since faded. Once empty, Wade lowered the bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His gaze drifted over to Logan whose eyes, which were darker than usual (but that may have been down to the lighting), were locked on Wade’s throat.

“You good there, Honey Badger?”

Logan blinked a couple of times and shook his head, “Yeah just… just lost in thought. Let’s get the bed set already.”

Wade nodded and picked up their bottles, depositing them in a plastic bag that contained other used glass items. He then manoeuvred the coffee table out of the way so Logan could pull the bedframe and mattress out. It all felt rather domestic; pulling the bottom sheet into place, setting up the blankets and pillows together. The lights were turned off and the two men got under the covers. Wade really did try to go to sleep but for all his effort he was left tossing and turning.

“Will y’quit it? Is your ADHD so severe you can’t stay still even in your sleep?” Logan groaned, arm slung over his face.

“I wasn’t lying about needing bedtime cuddles, Logi Bear,” Wade hissed back.

Logan huffed and threw the arm closest to Wade over the younger man, “Fine. Y’can cuddle this arm. But just the arm.”

“Yay!” Wade cheered, eagerly rolling onto his side and wrapping his limbs around the offered arm like it was a tree to be climbed. “Goodnight, Wolvie.”

“G’night, Bubba.”

Did he just fucking call me Bubba?!

Wade was out like a light, the physical contact anchoring his racing thoughts enough to drift off peacefully.

That’s where you’re gonna leave it? I thought we were going to Pound Town?! THIS IS RATED E DAMMIT!

This was getting too long for a oneshot Wade. You’ll still get your trip to Fuckville don’t worry. It’s not tagged slowburn. Now go the fuck to sleep and I’ll see you next chapter.

[abeautylives]

Nothing Could Compare

a/n: This was supposed to be a blurb. I needed to get it out of my brain, but in typical fashion it got out of control. ALSO, the subject matter will not be for everyone I’m sure. Read the warnings 🍑

Parts 1 and 2

pairing: Joshxfemale!reader

word count: just over 7k

summary: Trying something new can be intimidating, but love finds a way 😂

warnings: 18+ minors stay far away, language, mentions of masterbation (f. and m.), mentions of sexual situations, graphic sexual content, unprotected penetrative sex (vaginal and anal - surprise! it’s about butt stuff)

“So you have thought about it.”

He sounds entirely too satisfied with himself, the smug tone is paired with one eyebrow arched so high that it’s hiding halfway underneath the curls that fall over his forehead.

He’s sitting behind you on the edge of the bathtub, watching as you finish swiping mascara onto your lashes. You make sure he can see how far your eyes roll through the mirror. “Don’t sound so proud of yourself Josh, everyone thinks about it.”

That may or may not be true, but you’ve been thinking about it more often than you’ll admit. It’ll creep into your brain when you’re alone, when you miss him and your fingers are already inside you, doing a poor imitation of his. The thought will appear out of nowhere and doesn’t release its grip on you until you let yourself give in to the fantasy. So, on occasion, you’ve let a finger slip lower until it’s circling that place you’ve forbidden Josh from going. Maybe, once or twice, you’ve pushed it into yourself there, brain screaming… I wish it was him.

He stands to sidle up behind you, eyeing your face in the mirror and smoothing his palms over your ass before running his fingertips under the lace at your hips. “Hmm perhaps, but this is you we’re talking about. You gonna let me in, honey?”

What possessed me to even say anything?

It started with an innocent joke. Well, innocent may be an inaccuracy - Josh’s body had been laid over yours, the hot and sticky skin of his chest pressed to your back and pushing you into the mattress. While he was still seated inside your cunt, slowly going soft, he ran a hand from your shoulder, over your ribs and down your waist, stopping at your backside. A firm squeeze and a light smack later, he’d mumbled quietly, “Next time you should let me stick it in your ass.” He’d laughed as you bucked his body off of yours and slapped his arms away from you. You’d laughed as you told him to fuck off and keep dreaming.

He’s more curious than anything and would bring it up here and there, you’d made a quip about it that night at the beach house, and though his mind had been preoccupied then, he wasn’t lying when he said he believed he could convince you.

Maybe love and trust had made you more comfortable. While you’d always cared for Josh, you’d very recently confessed how your feelings had grown and changed over the last couple of months, much to his delight. Afterwards the sex had been unhurried, blanketed in devotion as you finally let love roll off your tongue when he spilled inside you.

The tipping point that convinced you to bring it up was a candid conversation with a friend. Joy always carried an air of sensuality and tended to speak freely about her sex life, which could be awkward for you considering her boyfriend is like your little brother. Often you would tune it out, but you were out having lunch together without the buffer of a Kiszka’s presence when she started to go into detail about the night prior. About Sam. You tried to focus on a particularly red cherry tomato that was eluding the tines of your fork as you poked through your salad, but something she said caught your attention.

“Wait, you’re into that?”

“Well… yeah, when it’s done right.” Her giggle is charming and genuine. “I mean, I haven’t done it with Sam, but we’ve done other things. I’ll get him there eventually.” She sounds confident and unbothered while telling you she wants her boyfriend to…

“So you want him to fuck you in the ass?!” You’ve said it entirely too loudly and a couple of disapproving faces are turned in your direction. Your cheeks turn red but you continue in a whisper, “Like… you like it? It feels good?”

Unfiltered, she described it to you and answered a multitude of your questions. “You thinkin’ about letting little Joshy…?” She wags her eyebrows instead of finishing her sentence.

“I… don’t know, I don’t know, maybe? I’m positive that he wants to.”

“Oh my god, you totally should. You have to do it right though.” She went on to explain what she meant, though you hadn’t asked. You got it. And the more you thought about it, the more you wanted it.

The more you wanted it, the harder it was to get it out of your mind. Every time he was fucking into you, whispering filthy things from above you, or behind you… your pussy would clench around him as the image flashed behind your eyelids. And Josh, none the wiser, would offer up a groan or an oh you like that honey? Little did he know.

And so, here you are getting ready in your bathroom while your sweet angel of a boyfriend waits for you. You’d been mulling it over in your head, how you were going to bring it up to him in earnest. Nothing sounded exactly right to you, so you figured you’d drop a hint and hope he grasped it.

“Babe? I wanna ask you something.”

“Ask away my love, I’m all ears.” His grin is wide and perfect, sweet and beautiful and your nerves calm when he calls you his love.

“Well, I was wondering… if you’d be interested in trying something… new.”

“Oh the possibilities! A new… restaurant? A new wine?” You’re giggling at his little display of drama. “Or… ooh is it something sexy? You wanna try something dirty, honey?”

There’s still a jesting quality to his questioning, but when he sees the way your mouth is set into a smirk, eyelids lowered, he knows he’s onto something. “Is it a sex toy? New position? Another person? Tell me, I’m dying to know.

Oh my god, it’s anal isn’t it?!”

Heat creeps across your cheeks and down your neck, suddenly embarrassed when he guesses correctly. Once you’ve admitted that you’ve thought about it, Josh is all in. Innocent curiosity shaping his features, he looks awestruck standing behind you with hands wandering over the exposed flesh of your ass and the lace of your panties.

“Not like right now, calm down.” You push your ass into his hips, forcing him to step back from you but he doesn’t go far.

Moving back in, he presses the length of his body into yours and moves your hair aside so he can get his lips on your shoulder, your neck. After a few soft kisses, he says it simply, as if it’s no big deal, “Mm you just let me know when you’re ready. I knew I’d convince you, you’re kind of kinky huh?”

He’s joking but you pretend to be offended, eyes narrowed and mouth dropped open in a silent scoff. “Watch yourself babe, or I’ll leave you out and just keep taking care of myself.”

“You’ve been doing it by yourself?!” You’re both laughing as you shove him out of the bathroom and shut and lock the door behind him.

Your date that night, a simple dinner at a less than fancy restaurant, had been filled with sly comments and lingering eye contact that had heat spreading over your skin. The days that followed were the same as you both continued to ponder over it without acting on it. Until Josh couldn’t take it any longer.

“Let me touch you,” he huffs it out with his thrusts, deep and steady into you, you’re already on your knees for him, face being pushed into your pillows.

“Yeah, please baby, m’so close,” it comes out muffled against the bedding and he knows you’re not talking about the same thing.

His hands are already gripping handfuls of the soft flesh of your ass and then sliding back to your hips to pull your body into his harder. You both curse, you call out his name and ask him again to touch you, please. Hands moving cautiously over your skin, he brings them back to your ass and squeezes so hard you think you’ll have five tiny bruises on each cheek tomorrow. His touch turns gentle despite the pace he’s set with his hips, and he spreads you to him, giving him a sinfully clear view of where he’s moving in and out of your cunt. But also…

“Wanna touch you here, please honey, tell me I can.” His voice is laced with desperation but he needs your permission.

You’re completely wasted on him right now, drunk on lust and love, you don’t hesitate.

“Do it do it, c’mon.”

“Fuck, okay baby,” he tests the waters first by slowing the rhythm of his hips and brushing the pad of his thumb over you, the first time he’s ever touched anyone there. Your skin is soft and warm and the whine that escapes your throat encourages him to do it again with a little more pressure. The sound that breaks through your lips is feral, a pleading moan.

“God damn, okay I’m doing it,” he reaches forward first, bending over your body and presses his thumb to your bottom lip, pushing it down and forcing your mouth to open. You accept it greedily onto your tongue, wrap your lips around it fully before sucking it in and coating it with saliva. “Fucking hell babe,” he whimpers when you suck it further into your mouth before opening it and releasing him.

Resituating into position, he’s stopped thrusting into you momentarily, dick throbbing but unmoving inside you as he focuses on the task at hand. As soon as he’s touching you again, swirling wet circles over you, you’re begging him for it.

“I will, I will. I don’t wanna hurt you-“

“You won’t Josh, I’m ready,” you cut him off and your words rush out of you, causing him to wonder just how often you’ve been tucking your fingers inside in secret.

He’s still nervous but you’ve begun pushing back against him, forcing his cock deeper inside you and his thumb to press harder against your hole. You’re mumbling low words of encouragement from below him and as they float up to his ears, the tip of his thumb crosses that forbidden threshold.

You can’t stop the hiss of air that you suck through your teeth.

“Fuck baby, are you okay? Do you want me to-“

“More, keep going. Please please please, keep fucking me.”

And he does, watching as he pulls out of you almost completely before crashing his hips into you and slipping his thumb deeper. Just a little. He keeps it tucked there just to the first knuckle as he finds the rhythm he’d lost, fucking into you rapidly, he can tell he’s close to finishing and the pleading words tumbling from your mouth are only pushing him there faster. He’s not expecting it when you say it.

“Fuck me with it, I can take it.”

He’s struck dumb by it, can’t find the words to offer even an affirmation, all he can do is what you’ve asked for. Moving his thumb at the same pace as his hips, he watches it slide out and get sucked back into you.

“Holy shit, I’m gonna cum babe I’m sorry-“

“Me too, me too don’t stop - oh fuck.” As if you spoke it into existence, your orgasm steals any other words you may have wanted to say, along with the breath from your lungs. When your muscles tense and your back arches, pushing your ass against his pelvis, he lets go with you. He can’t bring himself to move or relax when it’s over, his finger is still inside you so deeply that his palm is resting flush against your lower back.

“It’s okay, just do it slowly.”

He chuckles but doesn’t move yet. “How’d you know what I was thinking?”

“Because you always drop as soon as we’re done,” you tease, “and you haven’t moved a muscle. You’re not gonna hurt me.”

He’d eased himself from your body and left to clean himself up, returning to do the same for you.

For days afterward he wouldn’t stop pestering you for information.

What did it feel like?

You definitely liked it?

Should we get some… I dunno, some toys or whatever?

Wait, do you already have some?

And his most persistent question, “Can we do it again?”

He’s so naturally gentle and eager, and when the boys have to leave for three weeks he texts and calls you more often than he might have in the past. He misses you and spends what little free time he has thinking of you, dreams drifting to you almost nightly and causing him to wake up hard and frustrated. When they return home, he’s at your house as soon as he can be and though you’ve had many reunions over the years, this is your first since you told him you loved him too. Your pairing is frantic and demanding, hands and mouths making up for lost time and as you lay together after, he tells you that everyone wanted to get together and grab dinner that evening and your presence had been requested. Excited to see them, you drag him from the bed and into the shower with you and you end up getting to dinner late.

It’s been a while since you’ve seen the girls, not since before the guys had left, and once you and Josh have made it to your seats and ordered your drinks you’re all catching up on the last month. Your phone, lying face up on the table, lights up and you see it’s a text from Joy who’s sitting well within your line of vision, across from you to Sammy’s right. Curious what she would have to say that she couldn’t out loud, you snatch it up and hold it suspiciously close to your face.

Joy 💋: Soooooo? Did you do it?

Me: Lol nosy bitch

Me: No, not quite

Joy 💋: What are you waiting for?! We talked about it forever ago

Me: Idk I think we’re both nervous, he got scared he was gonna hurt me with just a finger lmao

Joy laughs aloud at her screen, offering a wave of apology and brushing Sam off when he asks what’s so funny.

Joy 💋: Girl you better take what you want, Josh would give you the moon if he could

Joy 💋: And all you want is a dick in your ass 😜

It’s your turn to laugh and you throw your phone back to the table. Feeling left out, Josh drapes an arm around the back of your chair and leans in to your ear. “What are you two devils talking about that’s so hilarious, honey?”

“None of your business, considering it was obviously a private conversation,” you turn your head to place a placating kiss to his cheek, but he catches your face in his hand and wraps his fingers around your jaw. He soaks it in when your eyes go wide and lock onto his, revels in it when he can feel the rest of the group watching. You’re not sure what you’re expecting, but it isn’t the soft placement of his lips to yours as his hold on your face loosens and turns into a caress of your cheek. You raise an eyebrow in question when he pulls away.

“I’ll find out, I saw my name. That makes it my business.” He scans the other faces around the table with his eyes and finds they’re all trying desperately to ignore you both now aside from Joy, who keeps watching with a cheeky smile on her lips. When he brings them back to you he smiles, sweet as candy. “I love you honey.”

The distinct feeling of whiplash has a grip on you but his face, precious and pure, pulls the sentiment from your lips.

“I love you too Josh.”

“Awwwwwww!”

“Shut up Sam,” Jake leans across the table and reaches an arm out to slap the side of Sam’s head, then brings it back to the table to wrap his hand around Jita’s as he reclines back in his chair.

The rest of dinner passes without incident and you feel happy and whole being back together with your favorite people. Josh hasn’t put any distance between you since he’d wrapped his arm around your back, and even when he removes it his hand finds your thigh under the table. After a couple more drinks it’s started to wander, and you let it until he’s moved it so close to your cunt that the side of it is pressing into the center seam of your jeans, moving rhythmically as his fingers draw figure eights on the inside of your thigh. It doesn’t occur to you to stop him until a soft whimper floats from your mouth and out over the table.

The movement of his hand stops instantly and his face snaps to yours. Everyone’s does, actually.

“Josh if you don’t take her home and fuck her right, I’m going to! Byyyyeee!” Joy exclaims then dissolves into a fit of giggles as you and Josh both turn red, lips opening and closing but no words forming. Jita’s hand is over her mouth and her own cheeks are pink with transfer embarrassment.

Sam is cackling, a loud raucous sound, but Jake remains silent as he watches the scene unfold. Seated to your right, he reaches his left hand over to tap the underside of your chin and close your mouth before he leans in and does the same to Josh.

“Go home, the innocent patrons of this establishment have seen and heard quite enough, I’m afraid.” He’s shooing you off with his fingers while the others try to regain some semblance of composure.

You’re not sure how to react so you just do as you’re told, standing from the table and looking back down to Josh. When he turns his body to you he stays in his seat but meets your eyes with his.

“Let’s just go, Josh.” You speak quietly, not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself. “Please.”

You’re simply asking but to his ears it sounds needy. Imploring. Like you’re begging. He feels his heart rate jump as he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and holds it there with his teeth, analyzing you. His eyes darken slightly but you can see it happen, even in the dim lighting. As he releases his lip he takes a sharp breath in and on his exhale he says, “Yeah, okay honey. Let’s go.”

He pulls his wallet from his back pocket when he stands, going to leave enough cash with Jake to cover the two of you but Jake waves him off again.

“Get me later, have fun tonight.” A knowing smirk settles on his lips.

You both mumble an awkward goodbye to the table and walk toward the front of the building, but by the time you make it there you’re practically running. Outside, you race through the parking lot and pause to catch your breath when you reach either side of the car. Staring at each other over the roof, Josh cracks first. It’s a soft chuckle to start and as it turns into a belly laugh you can feel your own begin to bubble from your throat. You’re both wiping tears from your eyes as your laughter dies and Josh speaks.

“Get in the car Y/N, we have things to discuss.”

Confused but compliant, you get in and he follows suit. Once he’s pulled the car out of the parking lot you ask what exactly it is you need to talk about.

“First of all, I love you,” he pauses as you reply instantly, confirming that your feelings are the same.

“Second of all, I lied. I saw your phone, what Joy said. Don’t do that with your face, I wanna talk about it. I was… doing some research while I was gone.”

“Research, huh? What kind of research?”

“Okay just hear me out,” he continued on, babbling past the incredulous look on your face as he started listing everything you should do, an entire game plan worked through in his mind that he spouted off to you as if he was reading it from a textbook. You let him keep going, let him get every thought out of his pretty little head, but when he pulls your car into your driveway and parks, you reach a hand over the center console and place it high on his thigh. The contact stops his words short.

“Josh, babe… I’m really glad you’re excited about fucking me in my tight little ass,” the words feel foreign in your mouth but his eyes look like they’re about to pop out of his head and you’re infatuated with his reaction, “but I don’t need you to tell me how to do it. I don’t need to hear what’s best for me. I'd rather hear you beg me for what you’ve been wanting, what you’ve been asking for for almost a year. I wanna hear what you fantasize about. Tell me how it goes when you’re thinking of me, alone in your bunk in the dark…”

You can actually see his brain short circuiting, his lips are parted and no sound comes out aside from the breaths that he’s working hard to control. When the pink tip of his tongue darts out to run over his bottom lip, you watch the limited light shine off of the slick moisture left behind.

You give a squeeze with your hand that’s still on his thigh, then pat it lightly. “Lemme know when you figure it out, handsome.”

You leave him in the car.

By the time he makes it inside, you’ve already poured a glass of wine for yourself and one for him and made yourself comfortable on the couch. He pads into the living room slowly, running a hand through his hair where you watch it get stuck in his curls. When he tugs it free and looks up from the floor, you hold his glass out to him and pat the cushion next to you. He throws himself onto the couch, legs spread and head leaned against the back, wine glass cupped in both hands in his lap. You’re about to say something but he beats you to it.

“It usually starts slow,” his words are quiet but confident, he knows exactly what he wants to say. “Not every time, but I do always like to think about you going down on me. You look so pretty with your mouth full of dick.” He picks his head up to make sure you’re listening, but you're already spellbound and pulsing with need.

“You do. And I can picture it so clearly when my eyes are closed, I can almost feel it. I think about it just to get hard, works like a charm.”

He stops talking just to look you over. Your eyelids are already heavy and your bottom lip is held tight between your teeth. With a nod of your head, you encourage him to keep talking.

“I think about your pretty, pink pussy when I touch myself.” One of his hands has released his glass to touch himself now, adjusting himself in his pants. “Warm and wet, nothing compares to the real thing but I do what I can. I have a pretty vivid imagination, but my memories of you are better.”

You can feel yourself soaking your panties, this is better than you’d thought it would be. You always love it when he talks dirty - the words sound depraved coming off his sugar-coated tongue, normally so sweet. You press your thighs together and shift against the cushion of the couch.

“Keep going…” it’s a breathless whisper.

His eyes are now focused on the glass in his lap, on the finger he’s running over the rim. “Of course honey… See, I have to get creative with my hands but I’ve almost perfected it, it almost feels like you. Never as soft though.

And when I’m close to cumming, that’s when I have to imagine it. Because I’ve never done it, I don’t know what it feels like but I do remember how you felt around my finger. Hot. Tight, unbelievably tight. So soft, softer than your cunt, your mouth. I have to make it up to picture it, but I think about sliding it in, the way it felt when my thumb slid in, how you sucked me in. I hardly ever make it farther than that before I’m making a mess on my hand, my stomach.”

He leans forward to set his glass down, untouched by his lips. You set yours down too after taking a deep drink. A drop is rolling down your chin when you face him but he reaches up and catches it, his hand cupping your jaw. Instead of wiping it away he pushes it back up your chin and between your parted lips. He lets you suck it from his skin before he drags his thumb over your bottom lip and watches it bounce back into place.

“Josh, I-“

“You gonna let me in, honey?”

As if you could say no.

“Yeah… yeah, I want it.”

His hand is still on your jaw and he uses it to pull your face to his, your lips to his. It’s soft as he shifts your bodies so he’s laying over you, one leg between yours and the other foot planted on the floor. He pushes his knee against your core and you immediately roll your hips into it and let a whine out over his lips.

“Let me take you to bed,” he breaks from your mouth and breathes the words into you, “fuck you real dirty, princess.”

He rarely calls you that anymore, and never in moments like these, but right now it sounds wicked and wrong. Just like what you’re about to do.

“Please.”

Lifting you both from the couch, Josh hands you your wine and you each take a drink from your glasses, you finish yours, before taking his hand and walking ahead of him down the hall to your bedroom. There he disrobes you and you help him do the same, taking a certain amount of care but not moving too slowly. You’re both throbbing and leaking, incapable of waiting any longer.

Once you’re naked you tell him to get in bed, and he figures you’re in charge tonight so he does what you ask and props himself up against your headboard. His cock is resting on his stomach and leaving droplets of precum on the skin just under his navel.

“Need you inside babe, I hope that’s okay.” He loves foreplay, you both do, but his immoral storytelling in the living room has left your arousal dripping down the inside of your thighs and you can feel the slick slip of it as you walk to the bed to climb on and crawl to him.

“Whatever you want, honey. You’re already giving me everything I’ve dreamed of,” he laughs quietly but you’re dead serious right now.

Crawling into his lap, you’re straddling and hovering over it, gripping him immediately, slipping the head of him through your folds. You lower just enough to tuck him inside before you lean forward. He thinks you’re going to kiss him, puckers his perfect lips, but instead you lick a stripe over his bottom one and then speak against it.

“Call me princess again.”

Before he can question it, you’re sinking down on his cock slowly, rocking your hips until his are flush against yours and he’s seated deep inside you.

“Fuck, anything you want princess. Dirty girl, c’mere.”

When your arms wrap themselves behind his neck he thrusts up into you as he pulls your head in and forces your lips open with his tongue. He fucks your mouth with his as he picks up a shallow rhythm with his hips, fucking your cunt as his hand grips your hair at the roots. His other hand, having found its home on your hip, slides in toward your pussy and he runs his thumb over your slick flesh wrapped around him before bringing it to your clit. When you groan into his mouth he pulls your head back hard and fast, you gasp as your eyes meet his.

“Want you to cum for me, cum on my cock. I need to feel it, we don’t know what’s gonna happen once I’m in your ass.” The last words come out through clenched teeth, his jaw tight. He knows what he’s doing, knows his voice is going to make your cunt squeeze him. It works, and he keeps his thumb moving against your clit, tight circles, not too hard, not too soft. He’s playing your body like it’s an instrument and he’s classically trained.

“Jesus, Josh, you feel so fucking good babe, I’m almost there, so close.”

He doesn’t change his motions with his hand but he can’t help but fuck up into you just a little harder.

He also can’t help it when his grip on your hair tightens, just the tiniest bit, and he yanks your head backwards. It forces your back to arch and the fire burning in your belly explodes, a string of expletives mixed with Josh’s name burst forth from your mouth.

“God damn princess, that’s right, keep going.” He doesn’t stop thrusting into you until your muscles go lax, then he pulls you to his chest and goes still for a few long moments, petting over your hair and running his fingers down your back. He’s pressed your face into his neck so you leave kisses there, lap your tongue over his skin to taste his sweat.

“You did so good for me honey. We can stay like this for a bit, if you want.”

“Mmm. M’not ready to stop,” you mumble into his shoulder as you lift your hand to point a lazy finger to your bedside table. His eyes follow and you tell him, “There’s lube in there. Don’t ask, unless you wanna know.”

His laughter rumbles through his chest. “I’m sure I can imagine what you’ve been up to. Shit, I have imagined it. Lay back for me, I’ll grab it.”

He helps you climb off of his dick and out of his lap, lays you gently against the mattress toward the foot of the bed before rolling to dig through the drawer of the table.

“Princess… What is this?” He's already tossed the modest bottle of lube to the bed, but when you crack an eye open in his direction, he’s holding a pair of cute little pink silicone toys between his fingers, one a little bigger than the other. You knew they were in there, knew he would see them.

“Ummmmm, plugs?” You giggle, unashamed.

“Have you been… practicing? I don’t even know what you call it.” He’s mystified by your nonchalant tone.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you make sure he’s paying attention. “Josh…” He tears his eyes away from the pink pieces of silicone to look into yours. “I told you, I want this, and I’m ready. Come fuck me.”

Dropping them from his fingers, the plugs land back in the drawer and he climbs back up and over your body, his dick is hot and heavy against your thigh. He leans in and runs the tip of his nose over your shoulder and up the side of your neck before whispering in your ear, “You really are a little freak, aren’t you princess? You had me fooled.”

“Hmm you bring it out of me, what can I say? You’re so sweet and pure, makes me wanna dirty you up.”

“Fuck, let’s do it then, roll over.”

You do it quickly and once you’re on your hands and knees you have to grip the bedding to calm the shakes vibrating up your arms. Josh already has the cap open on the lube, but he notices.

“You okay? You can always back out.”

“I’m good, I’m good. Excited.”

“Maybe we should have a, what do you call it, a safeword? Just in case. I really want this but I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt you.”

You turn your head to see him over your shoulder. “We can just use colors, if you want. Red, yellow, green? Pretty self explanatory.” He nods his head in agreement before bringing himself up to his knees and moving between your legs. His hand finds its way between your thighs and he runs two fingers through your slick before nudging them inside. When a satisfied hum slides up your throat and your head drops forward, he pulls them out and swirls them through your folds again to gather as much of your release as he can.

“Fingers first honey.”

“Yeah, do it, please Josh.” You sound fucked, and he supposes you are.

The way your legs are spread, your ass is already presented to him on a figurative silver platter, but he can’t resist using his other hand to grab a handful of one of your cheeks and squeezing it, spreading you further. When his fingers land between them, your body jerks forward in surprise.

“Ah ah, relax and take it princess.”

Fuck.

His slick fingers move against you and you’re both already whimpering, him at the sight and you in anticipation. When he adds pressure, your whimpers turn to whines.

“You want both?”

“Yes, please, now Josh!”

Crossing them slightly, his middle finger over his index, he pushes them past your entrance and feels it as you immediately clench around them, barring him from going further.

He whispers, “Relax, I’m gonna take such good care of you.” You know he’s right, regardless of his inexperience, he’s going to make you feel good no matter what. He always does. You feel the tension release from your muscles and he does too, as soon as he’s able to he pushes his fingers deeper.

A guttural moan rips from your throat and he starts to work you over, pumping them in and out of you slowly until they’re inside you as far as your body will allow.

“Jesus Christ Y/N. You’re so fucking tight, I don’t know if I’m even gonna fit.” His voice sounds strained, like just the thought is pushing him to the edge. Or the thought of not being able to get inside you has him distraught. You can’t tell, your brain is buzzing, body thrumming with pleasure.

“More, keep going.”

He works them out, in, a little faster and your arms give out, face landing on the mattress. It immediately strikes Josh that this is exactly how you’d been propped up and begging for him when he first touched you like this.

Leaning to the side so he can see your face, he finds you with your eyes closed tight and teeth biting down hard on your bottom lip. Your hands have a white knuckled grip on the comforter.

“Color babe?” He says it softly, quietly.

“Green green, so fucking green, don’t stop.”

He leans back up to watch his fingers move, smiling to himself. He quickens the pace again and sees it when a drop of your arousal slips from your pussy and creeps its way down your inner thigh. His free hand moves to wrap around his dick and strokes it slowly a couple times.

“Oh, honey. Your pretty little cunt is making a mess, let me slip it in just for a minute, fill you up all the way.”

Your head just nods wildly against the bed, but he sees it. Fingers pushed deep inside you, he grips himself a little harder and runs the tip over your wet skin before sliding in easily to the base.

You moan in unison and he thrusts his hips into you slowly, pumps his fingers at the same rhythm.

“Yesyesyesyes, fuck babe it’s so good,” you’re whining, sound like you’re on the verge of tears and it has him pulsing against your walls.

“You’re so fucking good, letting me fuck both of your holes, you’re filthy babe. And all mine.”

Jesus.

“A little more, just a little more, want you inside,” he’s already buried deep inside you but he knows what you want.

“Yeah princess? You need me inside your tight little ass? You’re already taking me so well,” his throat constricts, if he keeps going like this he’s gonna cum before he’s ready.

“Please, do it now Josh, I need it!”

He slams his hips against the back of your thighs, does it again and curls his fingers inside you at the same time. When you curse, he slides himself from your cunt slowly, watches as he withdraws and his dick bobs in the air once it’s left you. Pulling his fingers back gently, he also watches you close around nothing once you’re empty.

“Fuck, okay,” a little overwhelmed, he reaches around you for the lube and quickly squeezes some out into his hand and strokes it over himself. “Shit.” He adds a little more then swipes what’s left on his fingers over you. From above you, eyes raking down the curve of your back and down at what he’s about to do, he lets a string of spit fall from his lips.

It lands at the top of your asscrack and he watches as it rolls down, rubs it over you.

“Ready princess?”

“Do it, fuck me, take me, do it do it.”

He shakes his head in disbelief that you’re real right now, his curls shake around his cheeks, the ones over his forehead are stuck there.

With a hand wrapped tight around himself, he runs the head down from the top of your crack following the path his saliva had taken. Looking at the scene before him, he’s still not convinced that the head of him, swollen and flushed, is going to fit. With a thumb pressed to it, he rubs it over your hole and pushes into it.

“Relax honey, relax, let me in.”

You focus on loosening the tension in your muscles, sinking further into the bed.

“Good girl baby, so good for me…” He pushes into you again and has to close his eyes and take a deep breath as soon as he sees and feels your body accept him. The sounds spilling from your mouth combined with the intense pressure of you wrapped around the tip of him are almost too much. You’re murmuring below him, a string of please and more, you’re almost sobbing it.

With a strong grip on your hips, slowly, so slowly, he pulls your body to his. Only about half of him is inside you when you push your ass back and he disappears into it.

You’re both cursing, panting, sweating.

While your body adjusts to the size of him, you stay still for a moment.

“Green?” Your voice lilts in question, sounds entirely too innocent and sweet for the moment. It makes him chuckle, but the movement forces a groan past his lips.

“Heh, yeah, my favorite color. I’m not gonna last, wanna fuck you hard, fast. You want that?”

“So bad, let me have it sweet boy.”

He retreats from you just as slowly as he’d entered, pushes his hips flush to you again. Repeats it until he’s sliding easily in and out of you. He can’t stop himself from dropping his head and spitting on you again, hitting his target and watching as it spreads over him as he moves through it. When he picks up speed you call out to him, not needing a response, just needing him to know that it feels good, perfect and full. When he’s worked himself up to a bruising pace, his fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your backside, you push your face into the comforter and bite down on it. You’re tiptoeing the border between pain and pleasure, you know he’d stop if he knew but when a pathetic whimper is absorbed by the plush fabric of the bedding, he goes even harder.

“Can you cum for me, do you think you could?” He can hardly breathe and he has to force the words out.

You mumble a confirmation and reach a hand back, tuck it between your thighs and find yourself soaked, slippery. Without grace or precision you start swirling circles over your clit. He feels it when your body clenches around him, impossibly tighter as you choke out a sobbing breath.

“Holy shit, you’re amazing. I can’t believe you’re real… I’m close, so fucking close.”

“Hold it for me, wait for me, I’m almost there Josh, almost there,” your muffled words turn into incoherent babbling and he struggles to maintain composure, wanting to do whatever you ask, trying to hold out for you. Until he can’t.

“Baby I can’t, fuck fuck fuck-“

His hips stutter and he slams your body to his, the feeling of his release, hot and deliciously wrong, pulls you down with him. The comforter is released from your teeth when you scream, the sound of it steals whatever air he had left in his lungs and his body doubles over, draped over your back. His weight forces your knees to slip over the surface of the bed until you're both flat against it.

Neither of you can speak as your breaths heave, you're dragging air in past your teeth the best that you can and even if you were able to, you’re not sure you could find the right words just yet.

Josh can feel himself smothering you and with shaky arms he lifts his chest from your back.

“Just go slow.” It comes out as a whisper, all you can manage.

He moves his hips off of you slowly, suddenly terrified of hurting you, but you sigh at the loss of him once he’s gone. Wordlessly, he runs one hand down your back before climbing off the bed and leaving the room. You hear the sound of the water running in your bathtub, and when he returns he’s wearing a soft smile.

“Let’s get cleaned up, honey.”

He scooped you up off the bed and carried you to the bathroom, didn’t put you down until he was over the tub and easing you into the water. He slipped in behind you and pulled your back to his chest, leaving kisses in your hair and whispering love and praise into your ear.

Though his inquisitive mind was turning, he resisted peppering you with questions until the next morning.

I didn’t hurt you, right?

What did it feel like?

You definitely liked it?

Should I have done anything differently?

And his most persistent question…

Can we do it again?

Taglist:

@lightmylove-gvf @spicedandicedtea @weneedsomehealing123

Please let me know if you’d like to be added ❤️

[pininghermit]

A Persistent Shadow

Request: Ooh! Werewolf female or gender neutral s/o! S/o had been turned long ago but over the years learned to control it. . S/o probably met them after season two, and alucard is a bit of a jerk at first but warms up to them.(I imagine this is kind of how he acted towards Trevor, and he's acting like this due to wanting s/O's attention and from being lonely for so long) I imagine s/o to be chill personality wise.

Pairing: Adrian x GN reader

AN: I strike back with more angst. There will be part 2. Pls be patient with my monki brain. Also P.S I kinda strayed from the request but I hope this works.

Part 2

Adrian does not remember when he first met you. It had to be one of the unremarkable villages. But he did not meet you in a rowdy tavern or a smelly inn. He met you in a bleakly-lit field as you withered into the form of a werewolf.

It was a form unlike his own wolf form. Despite the sharp claws and precarious fangs, you were human. A beast and a human.

That night, Adrian did not leave the field for the comfort of a room. He waited in the field with his sword ready to get rid of the danger that you were to the village. And the next day, when your steps followed his, he did not care enough to grace you with his attention.

You followed him through unpaved roads of the forests, next to the chiming streams with a merry skip in your step. Like a shadow, you were quiet and persistent. Maybe Adrian needed that. A presence that did not offer the vain promises that the world had once offered. It was better this way…

You did not speak much. Not even his name. Neither Adrian nor you had addressed the weird routine of you following him. Throughout the day, you earnestly kept up with Adrian, and when the sun set towards the horizon, you stopped dead in your path. A sign that it was time to stop. In the past, Adrian had wandered away in the night, unstoppable until his legs gave away. But you were there to remind him of rest.

And when you made sure that Adrian did indeed stop, you would whip out all the dry wood that you gathered throughout the day. Twigs and dry grass were all that you could gather while following him.

While you set up the camp and lit the fire, Adrian hunted for the meal. It was a fair exchange. Just a fair exchange, he convinced himself. He allowed you to follow to make sure that none were harmed by your actions. He would not hesitate to kill you as he had done to many others. This is what Adrian promised himself.

Days turned into nights, and weeks turned into months. Through rain, snow, or blistering heat, you followed Adrian. Over time, Adrian learned of your subtle movements. The shine in your eyes when he purchased your favorite spice or the slight hesitation in your steps on the nights of the full moon.

Yet, you were quiet. Adrian knew only of your pained groans as you transformed. This one had been especially painful. Adrian had heard your bones shift and move under the command of your curse. Your breathing had been labored, and sweat lined your body as you panted the entire night. You were exhausted by the morning. Unresponsive to the rays of the Sun that usually woke you up. "Hey mutt," Adrian kicked you with his boot. Your slouched form barely moved despite the force he used. Bleary eyes gazed back at him as you tried stretching your sore arms.

A questioning look filled your eyes as you became more and more aware of your surroundings. Your eyes scanned him for any signs of hurt with a worried look. "Nothing happened," Adrian answered your silent question. Your tense muscles relaxed. "Now go and shower; you smell awful more than you already do," with another kick to your bicep Adrian walks away from your lying form.

He does not want to see care for him in your eyes. Nor does he want you to consider him anything more than your doom.

That day you return to him with freshly showered hair, a brand new tunic with a color so blue that it fades the majestic summer sky, and a subtle lingering fragrance of jasmine. There is a smile in your eyes as you make your way to him.

Adrian can't help but notice how beautiful your hair looks as it clings to your face and your neck. How much the color blue complements you. Or the fragrance of jasmine that seems to become a second scent to you. He almost catches his own lips morphing into a smile.

And no, Adrian does not think it is adorable when you shake your wet head like a dog.

Caught in the turmoil of his surging emotions, Adrian sighs in relief at the sight of the nearest town. Weaving through crowded streets, he feels your presence beside him, staying close despite the rush.

A sense of unease fills his heart as he steps closer to his destination. Unaware, you naively follow him. But for the first time, your steps falter. A sudden jolt as you finally catch up with the dimly lit area of the town. An area full of scantily clad women and perverse men. The red district of the town.

Adrian feels the intensity of your gaze on his back as he steps closer to a brothel that looks like nothing but a breeding ground for diseases and illegitimate children. His own heart beats faster than ever.

A necessary evil, he reasons with himself. It would be better for you to know better. To break any hope. Lost in his thoughts, Adrian stops when he feels a tug. Turning back, he sees you holding onto his sleeve. Looking him in the eyes, you desperately shake your head.

There is an unsaid plea in your eyes, similar to one he had once possessed. However, Adrian does not answer your request. Shrugging away your fragile hold, Adrian dusts his sleeve. His eyes try to evade the hurt look in your eyes.

"Who would want a monster like you?" there are tears now. Adrian clenches his fist as he steels himself against your pain. "Not even a whore would want you. Not with this stupid tunic or the most potent fragrance. No one would want you." He hears it then, the painful sigh he has heard from your lips a million times before. Only this time it is quieter and more vulnerable than ever.

He does not know how long you continue standing there or if you leave at the very first noises of his pleasure that you would have heard with your hearing. But the next day, you are gone. The only pieces of you that are left behind are the bunched-up blue tunic under a tree and the dainty bottle of fragrance that you spent your meager coin on.

Left alone with the familiar hollow of his own thoughts, Adrian carefully holds on to your belongings, putting them under the safety of his own. He had succeeded. But even the success felt so worthless, so bland.

Walking on the solitary path, Adrian did not allow himself to turn even once. He did not give himself the satisfaction of looking for you or following the trail of your fading fragrance. Instead, he walked until his feet stumbled over the wayward roots of the unlit forest. And as he lay there in the dark, he could not help but reminisce the warmth of your fire. "Come back," he wanted to plead. "I was bad," he was sure you would return.

In his dreams, he allowed himself to imagine what it would have been like if he had walked away from the brothel. If he could take back his words and tell you the truth.

So for months, Adrian mourns for what could have been love. It had to be love. It was his love and yours. Incomplete yet so beautiful in its memories.

And when months later his heart stops the moment he catches a glimpse of you, you scurry around the town with a stream of shrieking children following behind you. Your hair is braided with jolly dandelions, albeit in crooked braids.

Your carefree smiles at the children pierce his heart. Adrian had mourned for your loss. He had lamented his actions and spent months in the ruin of his thoughts. But you seemed so untouched by any despair.

An ugly rage fills Adrian. Call it envy, pride, or arrogance, but it is too late before he marches out of the town. However, it is not before he stops by the village chief with a small letter.

A letter that warns the chief of your truth. Consumed by the flames of revenge, Adrian does not ponder before he leaves the town.

A twisted part of him makes him stay by the village outskirts, waiting for you. He would gladly rescue you, and then you would come to him. Your smiles would be his, and your path would once again align with his.

Smiling, Adrian closes his eyes under the vast sky.

But you do not come running to him. Neither does he hear anything from the villagers. When he tries looking for you in the paths he had once seen you, he finds nothing but silence. Somehow, you have vanished from the face of the Earth.

The only remaining evidence of your presence that Adrian finds is the bulging bag of coins on the village head’s desk.

[en-d-d]

So, this is my first post, so hello everyone! I don't really know how to properly navigate this platform just yet, but I'm sure I will figure it out, so please bear with me.

Having said that, unfortunately, I've come here today to rant a little on social media about things that make me borderline insane just from listening to. Most specifically, from MTXT's works. (Because if I ever see another wrong characterization for those fictional people I've became very attached to, I'm actually going to go mad.)

(This is not meant to be an attack of any sorts, I'm just a teenager on social media pulling my nerves into writing because who knows, maybe I can finally be at peace then.)

Let's start then!

Xie Lian is not owo small cutie or sum, and if I hear that one time... my man may be short, but he could fight off almost anyone, just thanos clapping people out of existence. He's also very insane and very horny about the Calamity attached to his hip. My guy is pretty smart and also just kinda gives patient auntie vibes (you know, that auntie that can see beyond everyone's bull but choses not to).

And if I already started with TGCF, may as well continue with it. Hua Cheng is a switch and you can't convince me otherwise. (If his Dianxia wanted to top, he would be as elated as he would be if Dianxia wanted to bottom. My man doesn't care.)

Luo Binge being referred as a white lotus and people not knowing what it means ("In Chinese internet novels, the term "white lotus" refers to a character who appears innocent, naive, and pure on the surface but uses this reputation to backstab, blame, or sling mud on others.") (I believe maybe people confuse this with the other meanings of the white lotus, like, actually naive or pure in character, but those are obliviously not what they mean in the chinese novels)

Shen Yuan is Kim Dokja, but chinese (or maybe KD is SY but korean)

Lan Wangji did not like Wei Wuxian despite him being 'evil', he loved him exactly because he isn't evil. I can't stress this enough. If wwx was a actually bad person, lwj would not hesitate to cut his head off and be done with the matter. Whenever I see someone saying something about him liking wwx even if he's evil, I'm slowly loosing my mind, bcz no, lwj is not such a shallow person, to be attracted to someone based purely on looks (and we do know this bcz he loves wwx in mxy's body just as much as he loved him in his original body.)

Now, we're moving into a territory I like exploring. I just want to start this off saying that I don't like Jiang Wanyin. I just don't care very much about him and I find him annoying as a person. With that being said, I'm a little miffed with fellow jc dislikers bcz they sometimes invent some things up about him or such shenanigans. Like. Man, you do not need to invent things to hate abt him, there are already plenty of them. I'm pretty unbiased when it comes to actual judgements about others. I will protect someone if the points made about them is incorrect as much as I will point out every thing they actually did bad.

And the next point is still abt jc (wow, what a surprise) just bcz, honest to god, a lot of his fans are straight up annoying. I've said it. A lot of y'all are hella annoying. (Not to say that there exist a lor of annoying fans for other characters, it's just that jc has a very high number of them) Some of the ones I don't find bad are those that like him just becouse of how bad of a person he is. I can respect that. What I can't respect is another owo he's innocent and traumatized and a tsundere and everything is wwx's fault owo jc fan. Fam, did we read the same book, or has media really rotten our colective brain that much??

(I believe I have more comments on this jc topic, but my brain is starting to hurt.)

And the last one is Wei Wuxian, probably the most controversial character in all of MTXT's novels. First of all, I have to be clear about this, but in all of this post, I'm purely referring to the characters from the books, not the other adaptations. This is important, bcz the adaptations further skewed wwx's image in the fandom.

I have saved him for least because of just how much things tick me off in this fandom when discussing wwx in special.

Disclaimer that I sincerely believe that you should enjoy and do art and fanfiction of characters however you want. If you want wwx to be, idk, a demon that terrorizes people and breaks lwj's heart and then jc comes and saves the situation from the evil patriarch and then french kisses Lan Xichen, then go ahead, idc (Unless you say he's owo, you have no excuse that would allow you to do that unless you're a child, and if you are, then you shouldn't even be here). But I draw the line when people lie about canon characterizations.

And there is just so much misconceptions on wwx's character that I would need an essay just to compose a list of them. They range from huge details that somehow miss people like how their neurons miss firing, to small details, like his handwriting (I believe the novel said it was cursive, not messy, like how almost all the fandom has apparently mutually agreed on. Do corect me if I'm wrong on this, some things are lost from translation to translation)

I will be discussing just some of them here. Maybe I will do another post where I go in more detail, we will see.

ADHD Wei Wuxian. The people that believe wwx has ADHD should probably reread the novel, bcz that characterization comes mostly from CQL. In the novel, wwx is a very chill guy that can stay in one place perfectly fine. I will not go into more details, just read the novel.

Wei Wuxian is the reason for the Jiang's collapse. Bull statement, everytime I see it, well, I go a little more insane. If you know a little politics, you would realize the Jiangs were next on the list for sure. Why, you would ask. The Lans already burnt themselves to the ground. The Nies have a fortress for a sect. The Jins are almost-not-exactly allies with the Wens. Now, guess who is the most unfavorably positioned gentry sect (lakes are not a good strategic spot), with lax protection (how did the Wens just march in like that like what) and a little too carele leader (Jiang Fenmiang really thought the Wens will give them back the swords after that whole disaster that was the indoctrination? Really??). Oh! I think I know who it is! And maybe you guessed it too. Glad we're on the same page.

Now, wwx being the reason why jc lost his core. Very many people already came to their own conclusion on why jc gave himself up. Brotherly affection, suicidal thoughts or just straight up idiocy. Whatever you believe, it's fine with me (but I do have a brother and I can assure you, wwx and jc never really seemed like brothers to me. They are a little too far to the left to be considered brothers, but this is my opinion, take it however you will). So, was it wwx's fault?

We're finally getting into the juicy stuff. The blame game. I hate it with my being, still, as long as I'm in fandoms, I must persist. My answer is yes & no. Did wwx deliberately made it so jc would be captured? Of course not. Did it still happened? Unfortunately, yes. To go deeper, we will look a little at fate. There are some things that are outside of our control. As much as we prepare, some things will still blow us over. So the definite answer is no. Jc made the decision to be seen by the Wens. It might sound callous , but the decisions you make are yours, even if you protect someone's life or not. Wwx did not ask to be protected. In conclusions, it's not his fault.

And that is a very good statement to make, seeing as we got to the core transfer. People often criticize wwx for giving non-consensualy his core to jc. I always thought it as a weird thing to hate him about, but whatever, I still shall address it. I will start with an exemple. If you loved someone very much, and they would die if they don't get, idk, a new arm (maybe think of something less inconspicuous, but you understand the ideea) they would die. You are the single person that can do it. But you're sure that if someone told your loved one that you would give it, they would refuze it. Are you still going to give your arm? Will you let your loved one die? Knowing that you can help?

And for those that say jc was not on the brink of death. He was suicidal. He would not have resisted a week with the shame of inferiority plus all the trauma that the Lotus Pier massacre was, combined. 'Regaining' his core might have actually made him feel better, like he beat the odds, like he has another chance. That's also why wwx never told him he gave him his core. Bcz he knew jc would not take it easy, finding out that all his accomplishments were thanks to wwx's sacrifice. Because jc has a big ego that's clearly evident through the story.

Anyways, let's continue.

Ghostly Cultivation. It's more popularity used the Demonic Cultivation term, but they are not the same think for Christ's sake. Modao Zushi does mean The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, however the title is for click bait. In the actual novel, I believe wwx talks abt ghostly cultivation, not demonic. It was probably lost in translations.

I don't think I need to explain how wwx needed guidao to escape the Burial Mounds, so at least half of my job is already done. Now I go into dangerous territory however, bcz guidao is not expended upon. Still, I would rather listen to wwx when it's about, you know, the path he himself created?

To explain my stance, we would need to go deeper into the novel's points. A novel can have multiple themes, ranging from obvious ones, like love, family, to obscure ones, like, the importance of standing up for oneself (not the best exemple, but I believe y'all understand what I mean).

I'm someone that loves thinking abt MDZS. It's my dearest. So, I tend to analyze it pretty often. And the themes I usually get are things like 'the danger of hearsay and mob mentality', 'the importance of standing true to your ideals', 'the inherit unpredictability of life' and so on, and so on.

Anyways, what does that have to do with guidao? Well, everything, I believe. The MDZS world has a mentality resembling that of the curent China. Or well, the China of when MXTX wrote the novel. If you know some history, I believe you can connect the similarities. What does that mean then?

Wwx is someone that does not fallow the path set by the ancestors. He creates his own. When the cultivators see that, they are revolted. Becouse everything that strays from the 'right' path must surely be evil. And so, after Wen Ruohan, the Jins paint him as the new anarchist, and the rest is history.

Now, I would actually love to continue, but I've been typing nonstop for hours now, I need to stop. I will continue my points in another post, bcz I still have a lot of them.

Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful day 💐

[whumpshaped]

this might have a twin piece later on... we'll see how that goes

masterlist

tw vampire whumper, threat of murder, some imaginary gore and death, fear of death

Beck yelped as he was roughly slammed against the wall of his building by a particularly eager Helle. They pinned his wrists above his head, much like that first time, their face already buried in his neck but not yet biting. He had no idea what this was about, why Helle was so riled up, whether it was even him who had done something to deserve treatment like this or something had just come over them–

"I could kill you so easily," they breathed, and Beck was definitely glad that the vampire had some restraint. It really did feel like that, though... like they had to restrain themself... disturbingly so. "I could drain you right now, I could turn you, I could take you and never have to worry about trivial things like the human lifespan."

Beck whimpered. "But you won't– you won't, right?" The winter breeze that stung his cheeks was nothing compared to the icy fear that immediately filled his entire chest as the threat. An eternity as Helle's sired. There was little else that could've scared him to the point of tears so fucking quickly. "You won't? Please–"

They bit down without another word, and for the first time in a while, Beck actually struggled against it. He thrashed around frantically, looking for a way to dislodge the the fangs from his neck and finding none. He was completely trapped against the wall by Helle's own body, helpless to the whims of the vampire who had just threatened to take not only his life but his death.

"Please," he choked out between sobs, his physical efforts slowly dying down as he began focusing more on persuading them. "Please, don't do this, I can't– I c-can't do this, I can't die, I don't want to die, please–"

Nothing worked. Helle kept drinking, he kept crying, and no one was going to put an end to it. He didn't stop begging for a moment, fuelled by the sheer amount of gore his brain conjured up for him to think about as he awaited his death. His neck torn open, the remainder of his blood gushing out onto the sidewalk as he lay there — maybe Helle wouldn't even actually take him, maybe they'd leave him there for the crows to pick on now that good food was so scarce.

When the vampire eventually pulled away, Beck was still way too terrified to stop pleading. He was convinced that they were about to bite again, drain him dry, murder him right outside his home for all his friends and family to see. He jerked away violently when Helle put a hand on his cheek, weeping with all the heartbreak and devastation of someone who thought there were the last tears he'd ever shed.

"I really scared you, huh? Oh dear..." He couldn't even see if they were being genuine, but he nodded regardless. Any question that went unanswered had been used to punish him before, and this time, he just couldn't afford it. Not with the death threat lingering in the air. "I am not going to kill you, Beck. Listen to me. I am not."

"Why– why would you say it, why would you say so– something like that, why would y-you do this to me, why–"

"Shh, let us not get too hung up on this. Just listen to me when I tell you that you are not going to die tonight. Not by my hands."

"How do you not g-get hung up on– on–"

"Look at me." He shook his head, he didn't even know why, he just knew that if he looked at them he would immediately lose it. "Darling, look at me."

"You threatened t-to kill me," he insisted, and Helle sighed.

"Yes. Now look at me."

He slowly opened his eyes, still shaking with sobs, still panting like he'd run a marathon. He didn't know what he'd expected. They were the same as always, their red eyes soft with something close to sympathy. "P-please don't hurt me," he blurted out again, instinctively, the words tumbling out of his mouth just so he could later look back on it and say he'd tried.

"I am not going to kill you. Or hurt you. I am going to let go of you, and you will go upstairs to your home. Alive." The calm authority with which they were speaking definitely helped. It was entirely different from their demeanour from ten minutes ago; in a good way. "Yes?"

"Y-yes," he forced out.

"Good. Breathe." They held his gaze, nodding a little as encouragement when he tried to take a deep breath. He was way too panicked to actually do it, but Helle acted as though he was doing a perfect job of it. "There you go. You are going to be okay."

Beck kept breathing dutifully, grateful that this was all that was expected of him. Grateful that he could still breathe. It was a nice reminder of the life he still had, even if it wasn't very pleasant at the moment.

"This will not affect tomorrow night, will it?" Helle asked eventually, and his guts churned.

"A-affect what? What– what's gonna happen tomorrow?"

"Nothing. I am simply trying to make sure you will not be hiding under the bed come nightfall."

He couldn't say he wasn't thinking about it. "I... I just want to be– be okay. I just wanna live. I d-don't want to... I don't– I don't–"

"Breathe," they said gently, and Beck did, he was good, he could do what he was told.

"I just don't want to die," he whispered. "Please. I'll, I'll be here, I swear, just– just please, p-please don't... don't..."

"I will not." They let go of his wrists, stepping away and gesturing towards the front door. "Get some rest, dear."

~

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @thecyrulik

[captain-mj]

More monster handler Soap please 🥺👉👈

I won’t stop gnawing on your leg until I see some tufts petting…

Realized I accidentally had updated this in a while and uh... my bad guys. This one is kinda short but I wanted to get something for it out

Soap felt great. He had helped Ghost come down successfully and while his clothes may have been sacrificed, that was just what had to happen.

Ghost had told him to leave when he could walk, but Ghost was also fast asleep and laying on top of him. Soap wasn't entire sure how this happened, Ghost had been sitting next to him, pliant and relaxed and then he simply slumped into him. He was considering this part of the success.

Ghost's tufts were out and right there. His head laid on his chest so it was perfect petting height. He had already stroked his wings... And Ghost was asleep. No harm in gently touching right?

Soap stroked one of them. They were odd. A mix of feather and hair. It didn't seem to have any flesh underneath so Ghost barely seemed to notice it. He ran his hands through his hair and Ghost started to purr gently. It may have seemed like snoring to anyone else, but he had been utterly silent and Soap could feel the tiny rumbles in his chest.

Soap thought about it for just a second before slowly, slowly, pulling the edges of his mask up. Not to see his face, but to see the scarring on his neck. Claw marks across his entire throat, like he had been panicking. They were deeply embedded scars and Soap hated to think that Ghost had ever been so distraught he clawed himself in such a way. He could tell Ghost didn't take good care of them. They were rough and tight on his skin. Maybe with a little convincing, Soap could put lotion over them. He was sure he could find a cream that would help. They must get itchy...

Without thinking, Soap scratched over them gently, like he first scratched Ghost's wings and Ghost, with no warning, bit him. It was through the bunched up cloth so it didn't really hurt, more just caught him off guard.

"Rather rude to take advantage of me while I'm sleeping."

Soap made an offended noise. "Not taking advantage of! Just wanted to look."

"At me."

"...At you." He sighed and admitted it. Ghost started to pull away and Soap instinctively grabbed him and pulled him back down. His body felt incredibly firm against Soap's own and he could feel the tension in him starting to build back up. Soap started to pet his hair. "How did you sleep?"

He felt the fight draining out of Ghost. "Well." His eyes closed again and his tufts stood up a bit straighter.

Soap reached down and scratched the spot on his wings, feeling Ghost fall apart in his hands. Ghost shivered and purred for a moment before shoving at Soap's hands.

"No."

"I won't do it again, but why? You clearly like it?" Soap went back to petting his hair and tufts instead.

"Hard to think. Makes my thoughts all cloudy." Ghost explained and nuzzled his hand. His eyes were slightly glazed over and Soap wondered where he was right now. Was he simply thinking? Or was his brain simply blank?

Soap decided to just ask. "What are you thinking about?"

"I was unconscious during the majority of my change. Sometimes I wonder what all was done when I couldn't defend myself."

Soap blanched. That wasn't what he had been expecting. "What got you on that train of thought?"

"Alex doesn't get jitters. He gets drops. Sometimes I wonder if my reaction to missions is caused by something Roba did."

Soap continued to pet his hair, letting him talk.

"I woke up like this. I felt a needle in my neck and woke up tied down and wrong. I hurt myself trying to escape." Ghost's hand pressed Soap's on the claw marks again. "Sometimes, I wonder if he did more to me. I would never know."

Soap felt sick. He was well aware that the army was not completely honest in the beginning, but the people who chose to do it were at least partially informed and later, once it became more understood, all subjects were briefed on everything before being able to agree. The thought of going to sleep and then waking up fundamentally changed in ways that seemed impossible... He scratched at Ghost's scalp, feeling him purr more.

Soap reached over and turned off the lamp, sinking the room into darkness. Ghost relaxed more, blinking slowly. His eyes had a slight glow like a cats and Soap felt his breath catch.

"Planning on staying the night?"

"If you'd be okay with it." Soap whispered to him, holding him closer.

Ghost pulled off and laid next to him. "probably a good idea. It's late and it may look bad. Walk of shame and all." He curled up, wings moving to cover him.

Soap looked at the giant lump, feeling the loss of the weight on his chest the same way he'd feel a bullet in his shoulder. He reached over and set his hand on him. Ghost tensed before relaxing, though he didn't press into it.

Soap slept well.

~~~~

Taglist: @nalawayward @joltom @azure-winter-crow @korym @cod-hyperfixation @revenge-of-the-bucket-demon

[theravenclawlover]

🎃Kinktober Day 12🎃

Day Prompt: Humiliation/Frottage/Sensory Deprivation

Word Count: 642

Warnings: +18 (MDNI), sexual content, teasing, eh writing, hints to overstimulation, edging, blindfold.

A/N: It's short and not my best work. Still sick too lol, so that's fun.

Pietro Maximoff x GN!Reader

The bed was cold compared to how warm you felt, really hot all over. There wasn’t a part of your body that didn’t feel as hot as lava. And it was all due to Pietro and his endless teasing. He had convinced you into wearing a blindfold, obstructing your eyes from seeing his mischievous grin as he had his way with you. You thought it would be fine, just like closing your eyes when pleasure got too much but it was totally different. This time your ears helped you to place him, how he shifted on the bed as he moved to better touch you. But it got harder and harder because he was being silent and fast. The gust of wind was the only indication that he had done something.

But the thing that had your body practically melting itself was his ghostly touch on you. He’d been doing this for what felt two hours, and maybe it was more, but he was avoiding touching you were you needed him the most, making you go mad as his mouth and fingers treated the rest of your body to him. His breath on the wet mark of a kiss he’d landed on your hip, or a where a small trail where his tongue had barely licked. The fact that your eyes were unable to see him do anything made his touch all the more sensitive to you body who was more aware now. It was almost torture by the time he began to kiss your inner thighs. At each jolt of your hips a small chuckle would follow from him.

“Pietro, please,” you hissed airily. “I’m going mad here.”

“What do you need, darling?” his words were whispers against your sex. Another jolt from you.

“You know what I need,” you mumbled in annoyance as his face retreaded from where he’d been to kiss your inner thigh again. He chuckled again.

“But I like to hear it from you,” he teased. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll give it to you.”

You grumbled to yourself as you debated between asking for the blindfold to be taken off, or for him to finally make you as you felt like you were on the verge of it even when he had barely touched you. But a bite near your sex had you making the decision for you.

“I need you on me, please, I need to cum,” you whined. Pietro didn’t chuckled but you heard the faintest of an airy laugh. Teasing asshole.

He didn’t say anything for a while, and your ears tried to catch where he had gone to, but smallest of winds was around you and then you felt a wet warmth on you. His mouth was finally on you.

There was no way you could put to words the feeling of him on you and do him justice. But in short: it was incredible. To finally have him where you wanted him was on feeling, but then came the overwhelming sensation he alone could offer but this time it felt like it was too much. You couldn’t stop whining and moaning, hands grabbing at his messy white hair as he didn’t give you a break to breathe. Your already overheated body felt ever hotter as your orgasm asked to rip from you and your sensitive hearing offer your obstructed eyes an image of obscenity as the wet sounds he was making were nothing but porno worthy. The deprivation your eyes were going through was being rewarded by the feeling of Pietro’s tongue as it dragged from one end to another, exploring you like he’d never before done so. It was almost addicting as your breath hitched every so often, your brain reminding you to inhale and exhale before you could faint.

He was going to be the death of you.