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#and i don't know if it was the rose-colored glasses or what
unforth · 1 year
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Since I've seen several posts floating around that try to rebut the points of @end-otw-racism by saying that AO3 is too big to moderate, can we PLEASE take a moment and remember that AO3 IS ALREADY HEAVILY MODERATED.
We all know the obvious one - that if you post anything about monetizing fic, you will be moderated into oblivion. We also all know why! This is essential to AO3's survival as a non-profit! No one would propose changing this!
But a lot of people seem to forget that AO3 is moderated in other ways! For a personal example, several years ago I got a "change this or we're removing your work" e-mail. The work in question? A collection of pseudo-ficlets that were somewhere between outlines and sketchy fics. What I got moderated for? I said in the a/n that if anyone wanted to expand my kinda-outliney nonsense into fully fleshed out stories, they were welcome to do so! I was told this was a violation of the ToS, because fics that are collections of prompts aren't allowed, and that if I didn't change the a/n I'd have to delete the work. Of course I edited the a/n, and my work was allowed, and I moved on. I did, immediately, delete another work I'd posted, which WAS literally sets of prompts I'd written free to a good home. It was clearly in violation of those rules, and I just hadn't realized content like that wasn't allowed.
Numerous things are forbidden on AO3 and will get moderated and potentially deleted, including:
advertising
"find a fic" posts
spam
plagiarized works
virus spreading
doxxing
actual CSAM
lots of other stuff as listed in the tos
If the foundation of your argument is "AO3 is too big to moderate" your argument is bad. AO3 is already moderated.
So that means your ACTUAL argument is "I think AO3 is moderated enough as-is and I don't think AO3 should be moderated in a way that might better protect fans of color."
Having that attitude despite the many, many, MANY fans of colors who say "hey, we don't feel safe here, can this be better moderated to protect us?" (when, by the way, the existing harassment policy SHOULD protect them but clearly isn't being implemented in ways that actually DOES protect them!)
Well. That's sure a take.
(TO BE CLEAR: I am anti-censorship. I am pro-moderation. I am pro-AO3. I fucking love your dark fic, your underage works, your non-con stories, your kinky pwp with "no redeeming qualities," your dirty-wrong-bad ego fics. I would NEVER want a solution that removed that content. And I believe AO3 is the greatest thing to happen to fic in my lifetime and I want it to continue to be the wonderful thing it is. I think that what AO3 already is can be reconciled with the demands of fans of color that they be better protected. I believe fans of color when they say that the current policies don't protect them adequately, that they don't feel safe, that this drives them out of white western fandom. I've listened a lot, and I've seen a lot, and I've learned a lot, and I want AO3 to be better than it is in this regard. I'm honestly kinda depressed how many people seem comfortable with the status quo.)
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imaginedisish · 20 days
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Heroes (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)
A/N: I think I used David Bowie's "Heroes" for another fic when I first started writing on this blog. Oh well. We're using it again bc it inspired this fic. This is a combo request fic: Co-teachers/Logan having a nightmare/smut. Hope you guys enjoy!
Summary: You and Logan are assigned by Charles to co-teach a class to learn how to work as a team. You expect Logan to be cold, distant, short. What you don't expect is the way you find yourself needing him, and him needing you.
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT! Dry humping, Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, soft!Logan, cocky!Logan (always), softdom!Logan vibes, implied age gap (Logan is obvi older), frenemies to lovers, feelings, some violence (Logan accidentally hurts the reader while having a nightmare), reader has regenerative powers, fluff, hurt to comfort (literally), reader has family trauma, afab!/f!reader, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it!
Word Count: 5,267 kinda wanna do a part 2 this was cute
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“I work better alone Charles. You know that.” 
You and Logan Howlett never did see eye to eye. 
“Yes, Logan. Which is why I’m giving you this challenge.”
He was always cold. 
“I don’t think this is a good idea.”
Always distant. 
“Hence why it is an excellent idea, Logan.”
But you never thought he’d be this resistant to teaching a class with you. 
“I’m fine with it,” you say, your eyes flitting between Logan and Charles. “It doesn’t faze me at all.”
Logan’s leather jacket crinkles and he puts his hands on his hips. He furrows his brows. “You’re fine with this?” He asks, cocking his head to the side. 
You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t see why not.” Your eyes find Logan’s, but you can’t make out the expression on his face. Can’t tell if it’s dislike, pure hatred, or something else altogether. 
“This can’t happen,” Logan insists, tearing his eyes away from yours and turning towards the Professor. His words sting and you’re not quite sure why—not sure why you should care about this at all. 
“It is too late,” Charles’s voice booms. “I have already decided. You will co-teach a history class for...” Charles trails off, choosing his words carefully. “Younger students.”
You smile, but Logan rolls his eyes, his brows still furrowed. “How young?” You say in unison, although in starkly different tones. You whip your head to face Logan and find that his eyes are already on you.  
“Ages six to seven,” Charles explains. “This will be a smaller class, given how rare it is for children of that age to show their abilities, and the course will be incredibly simple.” He rolls away from behind the desk and approaches you and Logan in the center of the room. “I have faith that the two of you can handle this.”
Logan exhales deeply but doesn’t say a word. “We can,” you answer, your stare breaking away from Logan and turning to the Professor instead. “I look forward to teaching the class,” you pause, “with Logan.”
Something in Logan’s glare softens. His frown slowly disappears, melting away. His jaw relaxes, and his shoulders go slack. “Fine.” He’s curt, but something about the resolve in his voice gives you an ounce of hope that maybe, just maybe this will go well. 
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This is, in fact, not going well at all. 
Agreeing on the curriculum was not a problem. Logan, having experienced most of U.S. History, believes in telling history as it happened. No rose-colored glasses. No murky half-truths or prettily wrapped white lies. No weird Christopher Columbus-themed arts and crafts. Having seen multiple wars and experiencing the power of government exploitation firsthand—not surprisingly—has made Logan progressive.
So, you had designed an age-appropriate, honest, curriculum. You were shocked at how well you and Logan worked together. You shared quiet hours in the library, passing scribblings and notes back and forth while pouring over books. You actually felt quite confident. 
That is, until the very first class. 
You and Logan had only just introduced yourselves—written your names on the board. 
“We are going to have a fun, educational year,” you finish, smiling widely. “Does anyone have any questions?”
A young girl in the center of the room raises her hand. You nod towards her, and she smiles sheepishly. “Are you two married?”
You’re taken back, your brows furrowing. “Oh, um—”
“No,” Logan cuts you off, his arms crossing tightly against his chest. His shortness hurts more than you’re willing to admit. “Absolutely not.” 
The little girl’s eyes widen. “But then why do you look at her like that?”
“Excuse me?” Logan asks, his voice a little too harsh. “Like what, kid?”
“Logan,” you whisper, turning to face him. “She’s six. Let it go,” you chide. “Professor Logan and I are friends and co-teachers. That’s all.” You turn back to the little girl, who nods, but she doesn’t look convinced. 
The rest of the class goes relatively well. It’s very introductory—teaching the children how mutant history and human history are intertwined. You and Logan are able to simplify things for the children so that they can understand. And, as the class goes on, Logan seems more comfortable with the children. 
The period is almost over when a little boy raises his hand, and Logan calls on him. “My older brother told me people like us are scary,” he says shyly. His eyes are sad—too tired for a six-year-old. “He told me that we shouldn’t exist.”
Your stomach drops, tears burning behind your sinuses. You think back to your own family, back to the trauma of being disowned for something you couldn’t control. You’re too heartbroken to tackle the question. Logan’s eyes flicker between you and the little boy. 
“Your brother is wrong,” Logan answers, crossing the room to stand next to you. He brings a hand to your lower back. It’s the ghost of a touch, but it’s a lifeline. “You’re special,” Logan says, and you know he’s talking to you, too. “You all are. Don’t listen to what they say. You’re more important than you’ll ever know. More extraordinary than they can understand.”
The bell rings, and the children stand, collecting their belongings. “See you all tomorrow,” Logan shouts over the shuffling and ruckus in the hallway. The children file out the door, jumping and cheering as if nothing happened. 
“They’re so resilient,” you say, shaking your head and watching them leave. You look over to Logan—his face close to yours, his palm still pressed against your back. 
“So are you,” he whispers, smiling softly, rubbing up and down your back. “You did great.”
“Yes, she did. And you did too, Logan,” Charles says, suddenly in the doorway to the classroom. “I forgot to drop off the roll call this morning,” Charles explains, holding out a sheet of paper. You cross the room to meet him, taking the sheet into your hands. “It has the list of names of the children in your class, as well as their abilities.” Charles backs into the hallway. “Excellent work, you two. You make a better team than you realize.”
“Thank you, Professor,” you say. Logan mumbles a soft Thanks, and heads towards the door once Charles is gone. 
He scratches his head, almost nervously. “Got another class to teach,” he husks. “Meet up later to go over tomorrow’s lesson plan?” 
You nod your head. “Sounds good.” Logan smiles and walks through the doorway and down the hall. 
You look at the roll call, and your eyes widen. Your heart beats out of your chest. You find the name of the little girl who had asked if you and Logan were married. 
Claire Teller—Precognition, Clairvoyance, shows signs of potential telekinesis.
The paper falls from your hands and drifts slowly to the floor. You look down, your lips parted in shock. Did she see you and Logan—
“You alright, sugar?” Rogue’s voice snaps you back to reality. You look up, and she’s standing in the door. 
“Y-yeah,” you stutter, shaking your head. “I’m fine.”
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The rest of the week goes smoothly. You and Logan meet each night to discuss the lesson plan for the following day. The classes go well. Claire always seems a bit distracted, her eyes flickering between you and Logan, but she does just fine in class. 
In fact, you’d say this was going better than well. You and Logan, despite his hesitation in the beginning, were growing closer every day. 
It’s written in secret, stolen moments—hands accidentally brushing, glances across the room. But you can feel it, the way your lives are being sewn together. You find ways to spend time alone outside of class—ordering dinner and grading together, practicing in the Danger Room as partners and not opponents. You had become something of a team.   
Tonight, you’re alone with Logan, sitting on the floor of his room, grading the small quiz you had given the children on the branches of government. Logan had picked the background music—60s and 70s rock. 
You hum along to Evil Woman by Electric Light Orchestra as you write “100%” at the top of a student’s quiz. 
“Pretty voice,” Logan rasps, looking up from his last quiz. Before you can react, before you can even process what he says, he’s moving on. “You almost done?”
“Just finished.” You write another “100%” and look up at Logan. He’s on his side, resting his head in his hand, balancing on his elbow. He smirks and stands up, striding over to you. He reaches his hand out, and you tilt your head, confused. You take his hand all the same, and he pulls you up. 
Logan’s hands find your waist, and he sways you from side to side. You giggle, shakily bringing your arms up and around his neck. Your heart thunders in your chest as you dance with him. 
“Didn’t take you for a dancer,” you murmur. Evil Woman fades out and Heroes by David Bowie starts up.  
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Logan husks. He pulls you in tighter, his chest pressed to yours. 
“Yeah?” You ask, letting your head rest in the crook of his neck. Your eyes flutter closed. “Like what?”
He’s suddenly silent, and you can feel the tension thicken in the room. “When Charles came to us about the class…” He trails off, searching for the right words to say. “I was nervous,” he admits. 
You lift your head from his neck. “Why?” You question, smiling softly. 
Logan presses his forehead to yours. “Because I—” But then there’s a knock at the door. “Logan?” It’s Charles on the other side. Logan huffs, his eyes closing defeatedly as he loosens his hold on your waist and walks over to the door. 
“There has been an emergency,” Charles says the second the door is open. “I need you to go on a mission immediately. This is a dire situation.”
Logan looks across the room to you. “Okay,” he says, his eyes still trained on yours. 
Charles nods and heads down the hallway. “Meet me downstairs. Hank is readying the jet now.” 
“I have a bad feeling about this,” you confess, fighting the tears brimming at the corners of your eyes. You can’t quite place where the feeling is coming from—why you’re suddenly so nervous about Logan leaving. A month ago, this sort of thing would’ve felt routine, normal. There’s always a crisis somewhere. 
Logan swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I’ll come back,” he promises. “And we can talk then.” He strides over to you, wrapping you in his arms, and pulling you into his chest. “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.” 
“Logan?” Charles calls from downstairs. “We need to leave at once!” 
Logan squeezes you tightly before letting go. He works his jaw, his teeth gritting as he backs out of the room and down the hallway. Your heart drops as you listen to his footsteps echoing against the stairs. By the time you muster up the courage to follow him, it’s too late. The door to the mansion slams just as you make it to the bottom of the steps. 
You can still hear Heroes faintly playing from Logan’s room. 
And the guns, shot above our heads (over our heads) And we kissed, as though nothing could fall (nothing could fall) And the shame, was on the other side Oh we can beat them, forever and ever Then we could be Heroes, just for one day
You sit on the bottom step, your head falling into your hands.
“Oh, sugar,” Rogue whispers as she walks into the foyer. She settles next to you. “I didn’t know you and Logan…” She trails off, shaking her head. “He’ll come back. He always does.” She hangs her arm around your shoulder, tugging you into her chest. 
You hope she’s right. 
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The next morning, Logan is still gone. You’re forced to teach the class alone. As you’re starting roll call, a young boy raises his hand. 
“Yes, Jimmy?” You call, arching your brows. 
“Where’s Professor Logan?” He asks curiously, tilting his head to the side. 
You swallow harshly, inhaling deeply. “He has something to take care of,” you explain. “It’ll just be me teaching today. Is that alright with you?” You try to sound light, jovial, plastering a fake smile across your face. The kids buy it, giggling and nodding. Jimmy smiles widely and nods, too.
But Claire—the little girl who can seemingly see into the future, stares at you sympathetically. It sends a chill down your spine. It’s like she knows how you’re feeling—can see it in her mind’s eye. You shake the feeling off, proceeding with the lesson. The material is distracting enough—the U.S. voting system, carefully explained so that the children can understand. 
The rest of the class goes off without a hitch, and the bell finally rings. The session felt longer than usual without Logan, and certainly harder to get through, but not impossible. The class picks up their belongings and files out. You grab your papers, readying to leave, assuming that everyone is gone. 
“He’s going to come back,” a small, familiar voice whispers. You look up from your materials, and there’s Claire, standing in front of the desk. Her deep, brown eyes twitch back and forth. She closes them tightly and smiles. “You don’t have to worry,” she assures. “He’s safe. He’ll always come back to you.” She pauses. “All I see is happiness.” The veins in her temples grow thicker, and you can tell she’s working too hard to look to the future.
“Claire,” you say, your hand grabbing her shoulder. “Don’t hurt yourself, my love. You don’t have to do that for me. I’m okay.”
Her eyes fly open, and she smiles widely, as if nothing happened. She steps away from the desk, your hand falling from her shoulder. “Didn’t hurt at all!” She calls as she skips out the door. “See you Monday!”
You shake your head. Resilient, you think to yourself. So goddamn resilient. 
The rest of the evening is slow. You try to keep yourself busy—grading papers, listening to music, going for a run, training in the Danger Room. But all you can think about is Logan. 
After dinner, you get ready for bed, changing into a pair of panties and an oversized t-shirt. You sit alone in your room, on your bed, reminding yourself of what Claire had told you this afternoon. 
He’s going to come back. You don’t have to worry. He’s safe. 
You lay back on your pillows, bringing the covers up to your chin and closing your eyes. You repeat her words over and over again in your head as you fall asleep. He’s safe. He’s safe. He’s safe. 
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You wake up a few hours later, your bedside lamp still on. Your alarm clock reads 1:45 AM. You groan, rolling over and shutting your eyes tightly, trying to force yourself back to sleep. But it’s no use—you’re awake, thinking of Logan already. 
You push yourself to sit up, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, and pressing your feet into the cold wood floors below. You walk to your door, twist the knob, and head out into the hallway.  A lap around the mansion might make you tired—might relax you. 
You walk down the hallway slowly, noticing instantly that Logan’s door is closed. You can’t help but pick up your pace, striding towards Logan’s room. 
You stand in front of his door, your hand on the knob, ready to twist and push. You stop yourself, wondering if this is crossing a line, tearing down a carefully constructed boundary. But all you want is to see him breathing, lying on his bed. You need to know he’s in there—safe. 
You knock once, but there’s no answer. You swallow nervously, twisting the knob and pushing the door open. 
Your heart stops. There he is. He’s home. He’s safe. He’s breathing. You let out a sigh of relief, smiling softly as you start to close the door. 
But then his head snaps to the side, and he grunts. “Logan?” You call, opening the door slightly. He doesn’t answer. He grunts again. You quickly notice the way his fists white-knuckle his sheets. 
You step inside his room, closing the door behind you. “Lo,” you whisper into the darkness. He tosses and turns, his head whipping from side to side. He must be having a nightmare, You think to yourself, your heart breaking in two, watching pain wrack his body, his mind. 
You meet his side, placing a hand on his shoulder and shaking him softly. “Logan,” you say, your voice louder, stronger this time. “You need to wake up.” But he doesn’t. He groans, his brows furrowed, sweat beading his forehead. 
“Come on,” you plead, climbing into the bed, and straddling him. You hold him down by his shoulders, stopping him from writhing. Now that you’re closer, you can see the tears streaming down his cheeks, can see the agony etched into the lines of his face. “Logan!” You yell. “You gotta wake—”
His eyes fly open, and you feel cold metal pierce your leg. Your jaw drops as pain stings sharply in your thigh. “Oh fuck,” Logan curses, sitting up and retracting his claws. Tears brim in the corners of your eyes as the pain worsens. “Shit!” He cries out, grabbing at your thigh, blood spilling into his fingers. 
You close your eyes as your powers take hold. Your skin slowly stitches up, putting yourself together again. You groan, and Logan wraps his arms around you, holding you tight against his chest. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbles into the side of your head, pressing soft, gentle kisses there. “I love you, I’m so sorry sweetheart.”
What did he just say?
“W-what?” You ask, the pain fading away as those three words echo in your mind. 
Logan’s breathing only quickens as he realizes what he said. “A-are you okay?” He asks, ignoring your question. 
You nod. “It’s already gone,” you whisper, nodding to your thigh. “But what did you just—”
“I love you,” he interrupts, saying it again. You pull back a bit to look at him. You can see the seriousness in his eyes, the adoration, the honesty. “I love you.” 
You bite your lip, your eyes widening as you process what this means. Logan loves you. It’s everything you ever wanted. Everything you could have asked for. It just makes sense.
“I love you too,” you confess, choking on your words. “I was so worried. I didn’t know when you’d come back, or if you’d come back at all. I saw your door closed, and I just had to see you. I needed to know that you were okay, that you came home.”
He presses his forehead to yours, his eyes closing. “Before I left,” he pauses, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I was going to tell you why I didn’t want to work together.” His eyes open again. “I was scared to get close to you,” he explains. “I knew I wanted you the second I saw you. Knew I had to have you. I’ve never felt that way before. You opened something inside me that I thought I didn’t have. Turns out it was just locked, waiting around for you.”
“Logan,” you breathe, his lips just inches from yours. “I wanted you too. Wanted you this whole time.” You need him to kiss you—to take you right here and now. “I thought you didn’t like me,” you admit, giggling softly. 
He shakes his head, smirking. “I liked you too much,” he rasps. “Didn’t know what to do about it. You were driving me crazy, sweetheart.” You can feel his erection straining in his boxers, and you can’t help but grind down on him, your core rocking against his cock. “Fuck,” he groans, gripping your hips. “Slow down, pretty girl. Are you sure you’re okay?”
You nod emphatically. “Already healed,” you assure him. “Just need you, Lo.”
“Need you too, sweetheart,” Logan groans, rolling your hips against his, tugging you down his length. “Can feel you soaking through those panties already,” he grunts. And he’s right. The heat pooling between your legs is uncontrollable. 
You groan as your clit drags across his erection. “F-fuck,” you stutter, his fingers digging into your hips. You bring your hands to the waistband of his boxers, tugging at them. But before you can get anywhere, Logan is flipping you onto your back and crawling down your body. 
“Next time, sweetheart,” he coos, hiking your shirt up and smirking when he sees you aren’t wearing a bra. He palms your breasts, tweaking your nipples before sliding down further. “Wanna take care of you this first time.”
Your heart flutters in your chest at his words. You can see the hunger in his eyes as he kisses down your stomach, going past the hem of your panties, stopping at your clit. He takes a deep breath. “Can smell that pretty pussy. Know she needs me, darlin’.” 
He hooks his fingers into your waistband, and tugs the thin lace down your legs, revealing your aching cunt to him. He settles between your thighs, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your clit. 
“L-Lo,” you choke. “Please.”
He smiles against you, breathing you in again. “Please what, princess?” He asks, looking up at you under hooded eyes. “Tell me what you need.”
“You,” you beg. “Need you. Always gonna need you.” 
His smile meets his eyes as he licks a long stripe through your folds, his tongue pushing through your entrance, tasting you, savoring you. He hums against you, the vibration of his voice rocking your core. “Tastes so good,” he mumbles, licking another long stripe. “Perfect pussy. Knew you’d be this sweet.”
You watch as he laps at you, drinking you in. Logan’s tongue finds your clit, drawing tight circles into the bud. “F-feels so good,” you stutter. 
“I know, beautiful” He soothes, his fingers trailing up your inner thigh, drawing closer to your heat. “You look so pretty when you let me eat you out,” he praises, his fingers prodding your entrance. “You want more?” He teases, slipping just past your slit and quickly pulling out. 
“Yes,” you whimper, pleasure coursing through your veins. “Need your fingers, Lo. Please.”
He wastes no time—suddenly thrusting inside you, his long, thick fingers splitting you in two. Your walls flutter around him, sucking him in, taking him deeper. “So tight,” he coos, pulling out and sliding back in. “So fucking wet.”
Logan wraps his lips around your clit, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks, hard. He releases, his teeth grazing the bud lightly. Your walls clench around his fingers at the sensation. “Fuck,” Logan curses, smirking against you. “You like that?” He teases. “Like when I’m rough with you?” His tongue flits out, lapping flat strokes across your clit. 
You moan a soft Yes in affirmation, your back arching off the mattress. You’re already close, ready to let go. But Logan isn’t letting up, his fingers slamming into you, taking your clit back into his mouth and sucking harder, rougher this time. He swirls soothing circles into the bud, pushing you to the edge. 
“Logan,” you whine, your hips squirming as he drags his tongue harder against your heat. “I’m so close.” 
Your muscles contract and release around his fingers as he hits that sweet spot inside you, pump after pump. “I know, pretty girl,” He soothes, his free hand wrapping around your hip and holding you down to the mattress. “Look at you,” he praises between harsh sucks. “So beautiful like this.” His tongue circles your overstimulated clit. “Already fucked out, aren’t you?” 
“Yes,” you mutter, your hips squirming helplessly against his grip. It’s all too much, his hushed whispers, his praises, the way his tongue flits against you, his deep thrusts dragging along your walls. “Logan, I’m gonna…” 
“That’s it, pretty girl,” Logan coaches, his tongue still lapping at you ravenously. He’s starving, unwilling to stop. He needs more. “Should keep you in my bed so I can taste you whenever I want.” He grunts against you. “Want you to come on my fingers, darlin’. Wanna taste it. Let go.”
It’s all blazing, white-hot heat, raging through your body, searing your skin. Your eyes stay trained on Logan as he works you through your orgasm—ravaging you, lapping up every last drop of your release. His fingers pump in and out, slowly, before he pulls out completely. But his face stays buried against your cunt, his tongue pushing through your folds. 
“Logan,” you whine, lacing your fingers through his hair. “Need you up here.” 
He looks up from your heat and licks one more long stripe before climbing up your body. He tugs his boxers down his legs, his eyes not leaving yours. His cock springs free, bumping against his stomach. 
Logan settles on top of you, balancing on his forearm as his free hand wraps around the base of his cock. You instinctually spread your legs, as if it’s second nature, as if you’ve been here before. “Such a good girl,” Logan praises, sliding his tip through your folds. “All spread open for me.” His cock nudges against your clit and slides back down. “You need me, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” you choke. “More than you can—”
And then he’s plunging inside you, bottoming out with just one thrust. “Fuck!” You cry out. He stays inside, unmoving, letting you adjust to the size of him. 
He presses his forehead to yours. “You okay?” He asks. His cock throbs, pushing against your walls, searching for more. His hand slips between your bodies and finds your clit. 
“Y-yes,” You stutter, sighing in relief as his fingertips draw gentle strokes into the bud. “S-so big.”
“I know,” Logan soothes, sliding out only to shove himself back in, down to the hit. Your back arches off the mattress, your chest coming flush with his. “Gonna work you open.” His voice is gentle, calm. “I’ve got you. Relax for me, sweetheart.” 
Logan pulls out and thrusts in again, his lips swallowing your moans with a kiss. His fingers swirl around your clit as pleasure pulses through your every nerve ending. “Feels so good,” you murmur as he picks up his pace, his hips rolling against yours. 
He grunts. “So perfect,” he praises. “Fucking made for me.” He pumps in and out of you harder, faster now, letting himself go. He pinches your clit, rolling the bud under his fingertips. “Never gonna want anyone but you, you know that?” He twitches inside you, and your walls flutter around him. 
You curse under your breath. “Yes,” you cry out. “Only gonna want you, Lo. Only you.”
“Doing so good for me,” he husks between hard thrusts. “Taking me so well.” His hips snap against yours, his fingers circling your clit rapidly, adding more pressure. His lips find yours again, biting, kissing you bruisingly, fitting against you like a puzzle piece. 
Your chests heave together, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing against the walls of the room. “You’re so perfect,” he whispers, his lips suddenly at the shell of your ear. He bites down on your pulse point, his tongue flitting out to lick the pain away. “So fucking beautiful.” 
Your walls contract around him, squeezing him as he sinks deeper inside you, hitting exactly where you need him most. You’re so close, ready to come undone. “Fuck, Logan,” you whine as he pounds into you. “I’m gonna—”
“Me too, pretty girl,” he rasps, twitching inside you. You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him close as he plunges deeper. He lifts his head from the crook of your neck and presses a chaste kiss to your lips. “Don’t wanna stop. Don’t wanna…” He trails off, his cock throbbing inside you again. You know he can’t hold back.
You tighten your legs around his waist. “Don’t stop,” you beg. “Stay inside.” 
He groans, his forehead pressing to yours. “You want me to fill you up, sweetheart? That what you’re asking for?”
“Y-yes,” you stammer, his fingers pinching your clit and stroking relentlessly. “Please,” you choke, begging, tears brimming in the corners of your eyes. 
“Fuck,” he curses. “Wanna feel you come on my cock, sweetheart. Wanna make you mine.” 
“Already yours,” you whisper, your muscles contracting around his length again, your legs trembling as stars flood your vision. Logan moans your name, and you can feel him spilling inside you. You come together, your orgasm crashing into you, more intense, more powerful than the last. 
“Love you so much,” he whispers as he finishes, painting your walls. 
“Love you too, Lo,” you say back, your heart beating out of your chest as you come down from your high. 
His fingers drag against your clit, swiping gently before running up your body, slipping under your back, and pulling you into his chest. His hips are still, his cock unmoving inside you. He finally pulls out, and rolls off you, taking you with him. He tugs you into his chest, holding you tightly.
“Are you okay?” He asks softly. “Need anything?”
“J-just you,” you stammer. His fingertips trace patterns along your back, soothing and gentle. 
“Let me clean you up, sweetheart,” Logan whispers, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead and moving to sit up. But you stop him, wrapping your arms around his torso and holding him down. He smirks, letting you pull him back. “I’m just gonna grab a towel, yeah? Wanna take care of you. I’ll come right back.”
You nod, letting him go. He slips out of the bed, strides over to his bathroom, and grabs a towel from inside without turning a light on. Within ten seconds he’s back in bed, just like he said he would be. 
Logan brings the towel between your legs and wipes you clean. His touch is gentle, soothing, careful not to be too rough. Once he’s done, he throws the towel to the floor and reaches over to his nightstand. When he turns back to you, he has a glass of water in his hand. He extends the glass out, bringing it to your lips. The water feels cool as it slides down your throat. You drain the glass, and Logan smiles as he pulls it from your lips. 
He places the cup back down on the nightstand and pulls you into his arms again. You bury your head into the center of his chest, listening carefully to his heartbeat. It’s even, steady, constant. Just like him. 
“Never felt like this before,” he whispers into the silent darkness of the room. 
“Like what?” You mumble, your voice muffled against his chest. 
You can hear the smile in his voice as the words leave his lips. “Happy. Safe.”
Tears—happy tears—free themselves from your eyes, sliding down your cheeks. 
“Can’t let go of you,” he hums, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Don’t wanna go back to before.”
“You don’t have to, Lo,” you pant. “I’m yours. Always.” And you know you mean it. You know it’s true. It’s already been decided, already played out. Already etched into the future. 
Are you two married? Claire had asked. 
He’ll always come back to you. All I see is happiness, She had promised.
And she was right. 
“I love you,” Logan husks. 
“I love you, too.” 
tags: @afw5 @wolviesgirl @the-ruler-of-death @Ifdybadgirlsdiw @xtwistedchaosx @wittyjasontodd @wolverinesslut @galacticglitterglue @silversprings-mp3 @zxaera @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @alastorssimp @alsoprettyinpink @prettyseaveins @ilysmdovie12 @evasmlp @derbygracie @rammakela @honeyfewr @ricefordays-blog1 @manipulatour
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bunn-iiii · 8 months
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what mutual am i (made by me cause I thought it would be fun) ASK GAME
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[Picture ID: A drawing with 12 circles all different colors and labeled different things, bullet points follow under them.
the first circle is a deep purple with light purple glitter particles. It's labeled "purple glitter" and the bullet points under it say: "fabulous", "I love your aesthetic very much", "you do have an abnormal amount of microplastics in your blood though".
the second circle is a neon green with a lighter green wave around it. it's labeled radioactive. the bullet points for it are "some sort of creature", "you give bioluminessence vibes".
the third circle is a medium pink with dark green leave and a stem on the top. it's labeled starberry. the bullet points are "I think we should bake together", "flower crowns possibly".
the fourth circle is a light seafoam green labeled seafoam green. the bullet points are "maybe a little snobby", "calm yourself", "I don't know why I still follow you tbh", "Maybe I'm just reading you wrong".
the fith circle is multiple colors, in order from top to bottom: very light blue, sky blue, yellow, red, black, purple, pink, to light pink. it's labeled do you like the color of the sky. the bullet points are "you're always on tumblr", "hits post limit daily", "you should go watch some tumblr history videos if you haven't already".
circle number six is a brick pattern labeled throwing bricks. the bullet points are "you're my resource for all of the things happening in the world", "probably really punk or at least an Anarchist".
circle number seven is a red panda's facial fur pattern labeled red panda. the bullet points are "so soft", "very small", "you're so cute", "my favorite silly".
circle eight is a light off white color labeled cu- I mean creme. the bullet points are "Hey there", "I mean you wanted to-", "slash jay".
circle nine is a deep gold color with a light shine to it labeled stay gold. the bullet points are "book reader", "how do you read so many", "pretty cool", "also a nerd".
the tenth circle is a medium purple with a light purple heart in the center. it's labeled my favorite purple. the bullet points are "you're my favorite person on this hellsite", "why are you here, you're so nice", "are you a people pleaser".
the eleventh circle is a bright pink with pastel pink stars labeled barbie dream house. the bullet points are "nostalgia.", "do you live in the past I swear you do", "are those rose tinted glasses comfortable bub".
the final circle is a black color with a red blood splotch. it's labeled Gerard Way in the 2000s. the bullet points are "popular mutual", "I think you're pretty neat and also kind of scary", "probably really sweet but I'm still intimidated". /.End ID]
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esoteriamaya · 2 months
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Astro Notes : Short N Sweet <3 Neptune's Revenge
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Neptune 1st House - Popular energy. Very well known for their beautiful, majestic energy. Could have a lot of haters but admirers at the same time. Energetically sensitive to alot of others emotions. Sometimes, it can be a lil confusing holding so much power. Because their energy can be mixed up with someone elses if they don't know how to tell the difference. They usually have a strong sense of self, its just other peoples opinions can get in away of that if they arent careful.
Neptune 2nd House - Could use some help on the financial train. They're organic to the way they use their money. I mean, they could be super horrendous spender, spending each and every dime on any and everything. While still some how always having more in their wallet. Or they could be pretty good at saving and are a little bit of a cheapskate.
Neptune 3rd House - Whimsical voices. Poetic writers. Creative thinkers. Very talented when it comes to the hands as well. Could be excellent drawers & painters. Neptune in the 3rd has an ability to travel to very interesting places that aren't too far at home. They may go on lil adventures here and there. But its always a treat. Its kinda strange how well they can be at finding good eats as well with all the travel they do. Could work abroad or go to college somewhere out of their comfort zone a lil.
Neptune 4th House - Has a lot of secrets when it comes to the inner child. Very free, sweet loving children. Can open a door to different realms like we're in Narnia or something. Angelic creatures who enjoy alone time near their favorite place. If they ever share that special place with you consider yourself lucky. They normally keep the things they cherish hidden for a long time.
Neptune in the 5th House - Artists who seek deep into the art and become it. Very creative & a one of a kind with the way they carry the emotion in what it is they do. Can have you thinking hard on what it is they are trying to convey, they are a master at making complexities more harder to figure out. Just be there in the audience and watch the show. You'll never leave the same again.
Neptune in the 6th House - Fun loving pet owners, they go hard for the planet and the creatures that come from it. Real advocates for change and don't take too kindly to insensitive people. Could need to sharpen their boundaries a little more with people. Also, are incredible writers and should tap into this side a bit more. You might end up surprised with what talents you have that could make you some money, or could be a really cool job.
Neptune in the 7th House - Romance is the thing that just keeps on given to these individuals. May need to put the rose colored glasses down. that man might not be for you, love. Don't forget to put more time into your own needs versus the needs of someone else. Your compassionate energy may run dry if you're not using that waterfall of emotion for yourself. People are drawn to 7th house neptunes alot more than you think. They are capable of seeing thru the veil, you just don't notice.
Neptune in the 8th House - Psychologically understands the reasons on why the universe is the way that it is and why the people in it behave the way that we do. Could be honest about a lot of things, dishonest about what they know. The world doesn't need to know everything, which is why the divine gifted them with certain antidotes. Only they can use this so bring healing to a certain nation (or individual) but not everyone can find this secret the way they can. This is normally given to them by spirit guides, ancestors, or thru drreams.
Neptune in the 9th - Impracticality is almost their birth right. They see things in a way that doesnt make sense at all but to them it means something. What I mean is that these people see the world bigger than what they people tell them. They could have big drams and not understand why they have them, but God put them their for a reason. So you can figure them out. You may want to travel and study abroad, or just move somewhere different and don't know how. Thats where all the magic happens, finding out and taking the risk. The sagittarian way.
Neptune in the 10th - Majestic auras. The highlight of the moment. The star. The siren. The energy healer. Do I keep going? Very special creatures who touched this earth to make their dreams come true, even if they have to figure it out themselves. Empathetic to the people around them and are big on helping out with anything whenever they can. The Queens & Kings of the law of attraction. Can attract what they want if they just believe it in it more.
Neptune in the 11th House - Community leaders. Ancients who know they way to what the true reality is meant to be like. Literally can change the world with the way they move, think, and go around helping others. Sweet and lovely people to be around. Needs healing in their own friend groups. Can be a little out there, but thats why people love them.
Neptune in the 12th House - Practical minds in a world that tells them their crazy. No they arent crazy, they just have multiple psychic gifts. And these gifts have a way in showing them things people aren't usually equipped with handling. They need more time alone and in nature to keep themselves grounded. Other wise, they will go crazy from the world telling them that their crazy... When really they know a little more than what they led on. The imagination is a fun place, but also a place where the most hidden becomes entirely to open. Seers of the daylight & the night.
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undreaming-fanfiction · 6 months
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My brain refuses to sleep, so more drabbling! Probably modern-ish AU?
Steve makes a career for himself as a re-decorator (or de-decorator, as he loves to call himself). His clientele are those celebrities who rose to fame so quickly they have plenty of money, but they don't have time to make their houses feel like home. They just bought penthouses and mansions and now live in homes that are fancy, but they feel like hotels.
Steve is there to fix that.
One of his clients is the hard working rockstar Eddie Munson whose life path went from a trailer park to couch surfing to living with 4 people in a tiny apartment, then suddenly tours, hotels and boom! He has a house that looks like an IKEA prop.
He doesn't hide his distaste at the pristine condition of the place (yes, Eddie has a cleaner). "Oh god. A beige carpet?" he scoffs and he sounds so bitchy Eddie decides he likes him already.
He likes him even more when Steve puts on reading glasses. Damn.
Over coffee, they discuss what Eddie wants. Except Steve doesn't just...tell him. He doesn't give him any hints. He just keeps asking about Eddie's favorite colors, what movies he likes, does he have hobbies apart from music? Can Steve see some of the items that bring him comfort?
And Eddie's surprised. "Shouldn't you, like...be telling me what I'm supposed to want?" he asks the gorgeous man who almost wails when he sees the vase with fresh flowers ("This is the third place in a row that has this fugly thing! Is it like a status symbol? Uh, tasteless.").
And Steve just stares at him. "Uh, Mr. Munson?"
"Eddie."
Steve nods. "Eddie. Why should I have any say in what you want? If you ask me what's practical, easy to clean, what bounces off light well, that's another thing. But in matters of taste...you're the boss. You live here, I don't. (Pity, Eddie thinks) Now, let's change this place into somewhere you actually like staying, hm?"
They spend the whole afternoon talking. Eddie opens up about what he loved before the touring and expectations from his agent took that from him. He talks about the Lord of the Rings, Dungeons and Dragons, fantasy in general, and Steve listens, makes tons of notes and asks questions that make Eddie's heart bleed, such as "and who is your favorite Lord of the Rings character?" and "you mentioned elves, dwarves, orcs, wizards...so what is your favorite group?" and "which DnD class would you be then? I guess a bard? Is that too obvious?". Now, Steve doesn't know much about these things, but learns quickly and works with the info he has.
They walk through the house again, with Steve making notes and wincing at transgressions against humanity or at least against his taste in things ("Oh ew. EW. Glossy finish on a kitchen counter? What is this, a future crime scene?") and Eddie feeling equally amused and curious. Eddie orders dinner for them, it goes something like:
"I don't know what would be appropriate, any preferences?"
"Eddie, there's no time or space when pizza is not appropriate."
"What about a funeral?"
"It puts fun in a funeral."
"Touché."
They follow up on a bunch more things. Steve notices Eddie fidgeting and asks him like the mindreader he is if perhaps the place is too clean for him. "Minimalism is what everyone's trying to push," Steve says, not without sympathy, "but it's not for everyone. I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but you seem like a person who'd love a more....personal, cluttered space."
And god, Eddie feels so seen. He tells Steve about all his favorite books and trinkets that he lost during a horrible earthquake in Indiana, so when he moved to the city it was just some clothes and his two guitars. Steve makes so many notes. "I've seen quite a lot of collectibles for your beloved trilogy," he says with a hint of a smile. "Is that something you'd like in your home?" Eddie can't nod any faster.
They talk about the budget (Eddie just scoffs at that, for the first time in his life money is not an issue), Eddie's absolute no go things ("No more vases, please! PLEASE. Also maybe the one room that can stay as it is is the studio, there's no decor"), if he has issues touching any materials, if he wants to keep any areas in the house neutral for visitors (he doesn't). Then finally, he asks Eddie if he wants to be more consulted or surprised.
And Eddie, tired and surprisingly relaxed from talking to Steve, just grins and says: "Surprise me, big boy."
Steve just smirks and makes one more note. "Oh, I will, Eddie."
...
Eddie goes on yet another tour for a couple of months, which is the ideal time for Steve to start working on the house.
Steve sometimes texts Eddie random choices, such as "Rohan or Gondor or both?" or "what's the best pub in the Middle Earth?" and Eddie usually trips over his feet trying to get to his phone after concerts to see if maybe he has another message from Steve. He learns bits and pieces about the man as well - he has a younger brother, Dustin, who is into the same stuff that Eddie is. Sometimes it goes like this:
STEVE: What's the best battle in the LotR movies?
EDDIE: The Ride of the Rohirrim, duh!
STEVE: Dustin says you're wrong, it's the last stand at the gates of Mordor.
EDDIE: The disrespect to king Théoden!
And finally, the big day comes. Eddie meets with Steve at the door. From the outside, the house still looks boring, but that's what they agreed on. At least for now.
But there's one notable difference and Eddie gasps when he sees it.
"I know we said no changes on the outside," said Steve sheepishly, "but I took the liberty to make one slight change."
Where the door used to be bland and white, it is now carved with silver etchings. It replicates the Doors of Durin. Eddie loves it.
Steve smiles at him. "Speak friend and enter, right? Dustin told me. Anyways, are you ready?"
Turns out, Eddie wasn't ready. Steve took all of the shiny and sterile surfaces and turned them into something beautiful.
The kitchen is now in warmer colors, brown and green, imitating the Green Dragon inn, plaque included.
Guest rooms have been changed, each to represent a group or a nation of the Middle Earth. Eddie thinks his uncle will love the Rohirrim one.
No more vases are to be seen, but Steve got potted plants ("almost immortal, as long as your housekeeper waters them once a week or so").
Eddie howls in laughter when he sees that Steve somehow managed to disguise all his security cameras as tiny eyes of Sauron.
The bathroom is inspired by the Rivendell, with soft tones and nods to Elvish architecture.
Eddie's bedroom resembles the Shire, with round shapes and homely motifs.
But Eddie's absolute favorite is the living room.
The only things that remain there that he bought are the massive TV and his stereo system with records. The rest though...
Gone is the ugly and sharp couch that looked like a geometry exercise. The new one is large and comfortable, with a couple of armchairs to finish the cozy feel. The coffee table and TV stand are more rough looking, with decorative ironwork. And then, around the room and on the walls...
"Oh wow," whispers Eddie and Steve beams at him.
There are collectibles and figurines that young Eddie Munson would have killed for. A replica of the Narsil hangs over the TV. It's cluttered but tasteful, still easy to clean, but Eddie always has something to touch, to play with.
And then he spots the bookcase and actually sobs. "What the fuck, Steve?" he asks, but there's no anger, just awe. "How did you know?"
The bookcase is full of Eddie's most beloved books, all that he told Steve about and more, but it's not just that. These aren't just pristine new prints - Steve managed to get both those and well-loved used copies. Most of them are the same editions that Eddie had before the earthquake. He runs his trembling finger over the back of the Hobbit and it feels like home.
"That was the hardest part," says Steve and leaves Eddie to rummage through the books, the old DnD guides and used comic books. "But I assumed you're sick of new and shiny. In fact, most of the collectibles are already used as well. They have some history. As for the books, uh..." He scratches his neck, embarrassed. "I will be honest, I don't read much. Dyslexia and some issues with the eyes, although audio books are making it more possible for me now. So I had to ask Dustin for help. We looked for editions published before the earthquake. I hope we got some of them right?"
Eddie just mutters "Sorry, I'm about to do something really unprofessional now" and pulls Steve into a bear hug. And Steve reciprocates.
"Fuck, this...this is everything," says Eddie into his shoulder. "How did you do this? Are you magic. You must be magic."
Steve grins. "I take it the surprise was a success then?"
Eddie finally pulls back. He would have loved to keep embracing Steve for a bit longer, but boundaries. "A total one. Wow. I mean. It's a lot, but so good. SO GOOD. How can I repay you?"
"You already paid me, Eddie."
"You know what I mean!" Eddie points and the books and apparently also a DVD collection he now owns. "This must have been so much more work than you normally do, no? I doubt every client has you memorize the members of the Fellowship."
"Not just that, but also why Sam is the best," Steve smiles at him and fuck. Eddie might be in love. "It was more than usual, but I loved it, Eddie. That's why I like my job so much, helping people find themselves again. You don't owe me anything. Although, if you're offering..."
"I'm listening."
Steve runs his fingers through that majestic hair. "So, I didn't tell Dustin that I was decorating the house for you, but he's a huge fan of your music. Like, massive, has every album, has been following your career from the start. And feel free to tell me it's too much, you are my client after all, but...he'd love to meet you. Over a pizza, maybe? The plain ham and cheese one you like so it doesn't have too many flavors?"
And Eddie melts. Because Steve still remembers his pizza choice from months ago, even though this definitely wasn't in his notes. He decides there and then that Steven Harrington is a national treasure.
"Sure, big boy," he smiles at Steve, and hopes he didn't imagine Steve leaning into the touch. "How about you invite him over for a movie night or something? With pizza of course."
It looks like Steve could kiss him, but he doesn't. Not yet. That only happens a week later, when they bump into each other in Eddie's kitchen when they scramble to make more popcorn for Dustin.
Steve stays the next night. And maybe a few after that. Always in a different themed bedroom.
They travel for work a lot, but when they are both in Chicago, they always meet in the Green Dragon kitchen, cuddle in the bed that would be far too large for a hobbit, and in the night, Eddie wraps himself around Steve and whispers: "My preciousssss."
And Steve can't really complain, because it's his fault that his boyfriend has re-discovered his dorkiness, so why would he mind?
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tom-whore-dleston · 8 months
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Side Effects of Soldier Boy
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Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x f. reader
Word Count: 391
This fic contains: smut, literally PWP, drug use, unprotected sex, dirty talk, swearing, degradation, Soldier Boy doesn't pull out
Summary: Soldier Boy tries to keep you quiet during sex.
Notes: Wake up babes, Jordan discovered a new hottie to write about lmaoo Anyways, I know Soldier Boy is a walking red flag but unfortunately, I see the world through rose colored glasses hadshghsdl This is another submission for @flashfictionfridayofficial's prompt no. 239: Seal it Tight. Lowkey, I've been on a role with these quick fics, I don't want it to stop.
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Sex with Soldier Boy was addicting. You would say it was more addicting than the cocaine that coursed your system. The blow was essentially the gateway drug to Ben.
The side effects: uncontrolled moans and orgasms that made your soul leave your body.
The two of you found yourselves in a rundown motel room, where Ben plowed you into the mattress at superhuman speed. His strong hand clasped over your mouth, in hopes to seal your cries of pleasure from the outside world. Considering how cocky of a bastard he is, it was bold of him to assume that simply covering your mouth would keep you quiet.
“Mmm, baby, those moans are so pretty, but so loud.” The supe grunted through clenched teeth. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as Ben’s pulsing cock stretched your walls. You gushed around him, causing each thrust to echo through the dainty room.
“God damn, even this pussy is loud,” Soldier Boy chuckled, making you throb. “Think you want the neighbors to hear me fuck the shit out of you, huh?” 
His dirty talk was no help to hushing your moans. Yet, it did push you closer to that sweet release you craved. With Ben being the instigator he is, he knew damn well what he was doing. 
The pit in your stomach was growing and it was only a matter of time before it exploded. You pumped your hips up to meet his and he took this as a signal to deepen his strokes until his balls slapped your ass. You were one step away from the edge when Ben removed his hand from your mouth to throw both of your legs over his shoulders.
“Fuck it, let the neighbors hear you. Let ‘em know how much of a slut you are for me.”
That euphoric bliss finally washed over you like a crisp ocean wave. You could have drowned under the wave but a kiss from Ben brought you back to shore. The handsome supe slammed into you one last time before filling you with his seed. He crashed onto the empty side of the bed, fingers lazily tangling between yours. The two of you laid there, staring at the cracked ceiling while catching your breaths. Just as you were coming down your high, you already itched for another hit.
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Navigation | Fanfic Masterlist | Soldier Boy Masterlist
header credit: @saradika | divider credit: @firefly-in-darkness
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pigeon-behavior · 2 months
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Please, don't pick birds up off the street if you do not have a plan to get them medical care. Hell, just don't. So many people grab birds that are young and simply waiting for mom and dad to come home. It's so easy to be wrong.
And if you don't have a plan to get a seriously ill bird medical treatment by a professional, please know what that means. Do not apply an anthropomorphic lens. Extending the life of a bird that is going to die, no matter what you do, doesn't give it some extra meaning or enrich the memory of the bird or make it poetic or however you might be viewing it with rose-colored glasses.
It's an extension of suffering. It's not beautiful. It's wrong. Don't pick up a bird you are not prepared to deal with paying a vet to euthanize. Or a rehabber, if you're lucky. You HAVE to have access to a humane end for these poor things before you pick them up and drag their pain out another 3 days.
I know people just want to help. I beg you to recognize when that is possible and ethical, in the best interests of the creature you want to help.
This is just a general plea. I see a lot of picked up pigeons and a similarly large quantity of poor decisions surrounding those pickups.
Have a plan, a plan that is RIGHT FOR THE BIRD, or keep moving.
Sometimes decisions aren't easy.
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littletism · 4 months
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what my life is like as a permaregressor, and common misconceptions!
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cw: long post!
being a permaregressor i think is sometimes viewed as a want by a lot of people in the community. i see many posts of people saying they wish they were permaregressors, how awesome life would be to be one, etc.
and that's fine! im not here to tell you i hate my life as a permaregressor, far from it. but it's definitely not all sunshine and rainbows, at all.
for those who don't know, i am a teen permaregressor. bodily i am 20 years old, but i am permanently regressed to about 13-16. this means i never really leave this headspace. i never grew up.
so, what's it like? not really all that different from the life of any other adult, really. i'd say the big major differences are that i don't feel like i relate to any other adults around me, and i have a more childlike/naive view on a lot of things than other people my age. i'd say it pretty heavily affects my stress levels though. i am also wildly more immature than people my age.
do i have the ability to act my age? absolutely. masking is a thing permaregressors are more than capable of doing. i have to mask in order to get through life, especially as someone who works full time to provide for myself and help out my family with bills and such.
it's really hard being a permaregressor in the real world, though. i have a pretty busy life outside of tumblr, i work, i take care of my pets, i see my family often, i go out with friends often, i do the grocery shopping for the house by myself a lot of the time, etc! its really quite stressful to do all of these big adult tasks when you feel smaller than everyone around you.
one big problem i see permaregressors who are bodily adults face, is the constant Infantilization we receive, often from other regressors. because we never fully leave our headspaces, we're told we can't do adult things because we can't consent (ex; to things like alcohol or drugs or other adult stuff). this is horrendously untrue, and many of us do not want to be treated like we're actual children. many of us WANT to lead normal adult lives. of course i want to be treated like im little when im regressed to a toddler or a kiddo, of course i wouldn't want to do adult stuff in THOSE headspaces, because they aren't permanent! i'm stuck like this for the rest of my life, and i shouldn't let it define me or force me to be a certain way. im bodily an adult and therefore i expect to be treated like one when in my permaregressed headspace.
i truly do believe this community should be a bit more educated on permaregression. i think people definitely look at it with rose-colored glasses. i also hope no one, especially other permaregressors, found this post to be too pessimistic! i love being a permaregressor, and i think everyone who is one should be allowed to love being one as well.
xoxo
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star-suh · 3 months
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Livin’ La Vida Loca
Bang Chan x Male Reader
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cw: top chris, stripper reader, anonymous sex, protected sex, marking, pulling the thong to the side, chest play, riding, in the desk, against the door, hungry sex (like it's something chris was craving for so long), facial.
“finally, it's saturday” chris hummed, it was a tiring week full of work, so a free day was refreshing to him. he was walking down the street filled with street food stands, shops with colorful lights and neon signs when something caught his attention.
“little shop of eros… what a curious sign” he obviously knew what the sign meant but still curiosity got the best of him, “i guess a strip show wouldn't be that bad to relieve my stress” little did he know it would do more than that”.
“welcome gentleman, here let me take your coat” the man in the door extended his arms and chris handed him his coat, “welcome to little shop of eros, home to one of the best strippers in the country. you might want to use this mask if you don't want your identity to be known” then the man pointed to one of the seats near the bar, "please take a seat, the show is almost starting" he adds.
chris accommodates himself in the seat asking for a whiskey on the rocks when suddenly all the lights are gone, “what” he muttered quietly. then the lights are turned on again but this time they're all red. the figure of a man appeared, he was wearing very short shorts that left nothing to the imagination, some straps that went from the front of the shorts to the back of it and it covered his nipples, a little bow tie and a mask.
he started to dance on the silver pole, going up and down of it with swift sexy movements, movements that caught chris’s attention. the stripper kept on dancing and started to discard his clothes, it's not like he has a lot of them anyway. first the straps, they fell and revealed his nipples, they were hard and with a red mark due to how tight the straps were. then it’s turn for the shorts, he unzipped and unbuttoned them, they went down slowly, he was teasing the spectators, to make them eager to see his almost naked body.
“so sexy”; “fuck! i need him”; “i want to touch it” and more things can be heard in the public, they all were watching yn dancing again in the pole but this time with just a thong the front part covering his bulge while the back part, a fine strap of fabric, was in between his ass cheeks.
something rose in chris's pants, a big bulge was forming after seeing him, his suggestive movements, his sexy body. chris would be a fool if he doesn't so something to meet yn. “i see you're quite interested in him” a man near him says, staring at his bulge, “you can meet him backstage” the unknown man chugged the remaining alcohol on his glass “he's the one who decides if he accepts you or not tho” he adds and then leaves.
seeing the opportunity he quickly drinks all the glass of alcohol and went backstage looking for his room. he knocks but no ones opening the door, he knocks again until he hears a “coming” from the other side of the door. “hello stranger” he greets. chris saw him without the mask, he's even prettier. “umm hello?” yn asks again “how can i help you?”.
“i wanted to meet you” chris replied quickly. “i see.. what's your name?”; “chris” he almost yells it, causing yn to laugh a little, “okay mr. chris please come in”, yn opens the door completely letting the masked man enter.
it started as a gentle kiss session, they're mouths connected to each other, chris’ plump lips tasted like strawberry due to the lip balm he was using. their tongues intertwined with each other, saliva being shared and lips being bitten. “you taste so good mr. chris” yn said with clenched teeth biting the other's lower lip, “i say the same” he replies.
chris takes a small package out of his pocket and opens it using his teeth, taking out the condom from it. "wow, you came prepared for this, didn't you?" yn spits and sucks chris’ shaft for few seconds and then slides the condom little by little. “so heavy and thick” yn blurted out while massaging it a bit and kissing chris’ neck. the top accommodated himself on the chair in a comfortable position and yn sat on top of him, pulling his black thong to the side, letting his hole swallow that juicy dick. “hngh… i missed this feeling" mentions yn "a delicious cock stretching my hole”. chris moved his hips in a slow sensual manner, opening those insides. “you're so tight” he cooes and kisses yn’s chest, swirling his tongue in his erect nipples and leaving some bite marks on it, while yn ride him, loving the burning sensation he's feeling inside.
the both were enjoying the slow, almost sensual, pace but chris wanted more. he hugged yn tightly, his thrusts were gaining speed “i want more” he said, neediness in his tone “i want more of you, may i?”.
“shi…” yn murmurs, the pleasurable sensation kicking in “just don't break me, man” he joked giving chris the green light to let him do whatever he wants.
chris lifted yn from the chair with his cock still buried deep inside him. yn rode him like that, trusting that chris’ strong veiny arms would not let him fall to the floor. “is so fucking good… mr. chris” yn whimpered, his ass cheek clashing against chris’ heavy cum-filled balls. “your hole is top tier yn, the best hole i've ever had” he praises.
chris sat yn into the desk and make him lean so he can receive his cock properly. yn's sweaty back steaming the mirror. the thrusts become so harsher that the desk started moving. “i… told you not to b-break me b-but that doesn't mean y…ou can break my… my things” yn managed to say while his sweet spot was being brushed by chris' tip.
chris white shirt was starting to get wet, it sticked to his body making him look way sexier. the sight of the sweat beads rolling down his toned chest made yn hornier. he unbuttoned the shirt enough to see the other's chest, ‘so sexy’ he thought. the mirror was completely fogged up, the sex session was being a success. both people fulfilling their needs in such a passionate and sexy way, it felt as if they were the only ones in the world right now. yn pinched his nipples, gripped his tits so hard it let his handprints on it “i love how they jiggle while you pound my hole”.
once again chris lifted him and made him stand facing the door, yn was being pushed against it while chris rails him and covered his mouth to muffle his moans. “i’m gonna cum” he said. he grabbed the strings of the thong grabbing it and then letting it go, adoring the sound it made when it clashed against the other's ass. chris grabbed both ass cheeks, gripping them hard, to make yn meet his thrusts. it was like yn was his toy and he wasn't complaining, he hadn't felt that good in such a long time. “mr. chris i have a request” he breathes deeply “i wanna see your face while you cum in mine”. chris hesitated but then agreed, as a way to make him know he was grateful for that amazing night he is having.
yn was speechless, chris was so pretty, beautiful, gorgeous. those words weren't enough to describe his looks. “what?” chris asked with some concern. “nothing.. it’s just that you're so beautiful, i-i-i really mean it” chris can almost see stars sparkling on his eyes, ‘cute’ he thought.
with just a few more strokes chris came on the other’s face, some of it landing on his tongue so he swallowed it, “i like your flavor mr. chris” he clean his face and kissed him.
“thank you so much for tonight” chris bowed to yn, “i’ll never forget it”; “me neither” yn replied with a smile adorning his face, bowing back.
since that day little shop of eros was like a second home to chris, he went there almost every day just to see and chat with yn, sometimes they even had sex too. a cute relationship was born since that first night, that unforgettable sex night.
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accioscarheadthings · 2 months
Text
ULTRAMINE ~ CHAPTER 8
kenji sato x reader
summary: kenji gets his girls taken from him and is determined to get you and emi back.
pairings: kenji sato x fem!student!reader
warning: none, violence, use of missiles, fluff, lil bit of spice
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masterlist !
you stirred from your sleep as you felt a hand gently caressing your cheek, followed by a trail of soft kisses on your neck. you slowly opened your eyes and found your lover hovering over you, a sleepy smile on his face. the outline of his body in the soft light.
his lips continue to explore your skin, moving down your neck and across your collarbone. his touch was soft and sensual, igniting a fire deep within you.
"mornin', beautiful," he mumbled against your skin, his gruff sleepy voice evident.
you hummed in acknowledgment, hissing in delight when he bit down on your skin gently, "how did you sleep?"
"surprisingly well," he laid his body on top of you, wrapping your legs around his torso under the sheets covering you both, "and you?"
"same," you admitted, holding the side of his face.
kenji's eyes fell on the wound dressing on your chest and trailed his fingers over it, "does it hurt?" he kissed your open palm, snuggling his face.
"no," you replied, raking your hand through his bangs.
"good," he sighed at your touch, lowering himself on top of you, lips hovering over yours.
"kenji," you pressed a finger against his mouth, pushing him back lightly, "can't kiss yet, i got morning breath,"
he supported hiself on his elbows beside your head giving you a look, "think i care 'bout that?"
"i care,"
kenji intertwined his fingers with yours and pinned them above your head. color rose to your cheeks.
"we've done filthier things together, babe," he ground his morning boner against your clothed core, "do i need to remind you again?"
he nosed up the side of your neck, nipping your earlobe,
you gasped at the contact, feeling the warmth of his cock, "kenji, but it's still disgust-mmphh!" the rest of your words came out as a muffled squeal.
kenji pressed his lips against yours, not wanting to hear any of your words. he devoured your mouth, tilting his head for better access.
he rutted his boner harder against you, groaning at the feel. your chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, "k-kenji,"
his pelvis grazed your clothed clit with the right amount of pressure, while he slipped his tongue into your mouth, relishing the pretty noises you made, "mm i love hearing you make those pretty noises for me,"
he pulled back, smirking proudly when you chased after his lips needily.
you glared up at him in mock frustration, "jerk,"
he smooched your forehead, his chest rumbling as he chuckled in amusement.
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the two of you spent most of the day in bed, only getting out at noon. you checked in on both professor sato and emi, but in vain.
you swiped through the holograms of info displayed in front of you, trying to see if anything would give you any insight of emi's pupal stage.
the radio was distorted in the background, "it’s the first game of the series and it appears that sato is a no-show. he was absent during yesterday’s practice and team management has been silent on the situation. we’re all hoping he’s okay..."
kenji sat hunched over in the chair beside his father's life support cradle, elbows on his knees, "mina, any change?"
"no, ken. he’s stable but his internal injuries were severe. i’m sorry,"
he stood up, strutting over to where you had your holograms in front of you, "and emi?" he rested a palm against the pupa.
"it’s hard to tell, ken. my sensors can’t seem to penetrate the cocoon," the ai replied.
you shrugged, crossing your arms in front of your chest, "i got nothing. i don't know what would trigger her to get out of her cocoon. I'm going through every material i have,"
kenji sighed, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against your temple, arms wound around your body.
a distant kaiju roar was heard, causing you both to freeze momentarily. you both made your way towards the sliding glass doors.
you squinted your eyes in direction, having an idea of what it may be, "is that...? how is it even possible?"
"no. no, no, no. it can’t be," kenji shook his head, joining your side, "mina, where did that sound come from?"
"it originated from the east, a mile away," the ai responded.
a low pink glow emitted from the cocoon, your eyes widening in alarm, "kenji..."
he turned around to follow your line of sight, "oh, my god."
the pink cocoon slowly started to crack, a soft pink glow emanating from within. the pupa hatched, the chrysalis breaking apart.
tiny wings unfolded and fluttered at the sides to reveal emi waking up from her hibernation. her eyes half-open and still bleary with slumber. she stretched and yawned, adjusting to her surroundings.
"wings!" you gasped, "OF COURSE, IT'S WINGS!" you hollered in a cheer.
emi chirped at you happily, beak opened in excitement at the sight of you.
the very same kaiju roaring was heard once again and emi turned towards it, her ears perking up and she crawled towards the noise and made her way to the balcony.
"huh?" kenji stammered, "emi,"
the kaiju baby screeched, watching the setting sun, wondering where that sound came from and why it sounded so familiar to her.
"no. no, emi. no!" you and kenji ran after her.
"no, girl. emi, look at me," kenji attempted to get her attention, "look at mommy and daddy,"
"this is not good," you mumbled nervously, "emi!"
"mina, i need an analysis. what do you see?"
"scanning, ken," the ai hovered over to you both, "something’s approaching, entering the bay."
this time when you both turned toward the horizon, you could make the silhouette of a kaiju, wings spread at the sides, looking very similar to emi. the very same kaiju that kenji watched die.
kenji gasped, "that’s not possible,"
your mouth slackened, mind spiraling with all the information you had gathered from the kdf. everything they handled regarding the kaiju.
then it clicked: project surrogate.
you froze, "shit. shit,"
emi chittered, dashing towards the edge of the balcony and dove head first down the cliff.
"emi! no!" kenji yelled in terror.
"emi! no, stop!" you tried to stop her.
just before she hit the water below, emi fanned her wings at her sides, swooping through the air as she flew towards what she thought to be her mother.
"mina, take care of dad," kenji held up a fist to change into his ultraman form.
"danger. take evasive action," mina warned.
you looked up to see several missiles shooting towards the mansion, targets locked.
kenji quickly grabbed you, rushing in towards his father's cradle, "mina! shield!"
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the smoke and dust settled after the explosion, and the mansion was in eerily silence. kenji began to return to his senses just as mina pulled the debris off of him, her mechanical arm moving the slab of wood from his body.
"kenji. ken?" her voice was distorted. the top of her robotic body was blasted off in the missile attack. she looked like she might collapse at any given moment.
"are you…" mina groaned, her mechanical arm whirring weakly, "ken, are you okay?"
kenji struggled forward on his foot, falling to his knees, "oh, god, mina."
"my systems are compromised. i’ll be offline soon."
kenji stumbled forward, clutching at his chest as he tried to catch his breath. "dad?" he called out hoarsely.
as he reached the edge of the balcony, he saw the wires of the life support cradle hanging lifelessly, a stark and ominous sight in the chaos. but the cradle itself was nowhere to be found.
"mina, is he gone?"
"i’m sorry, but my scans don’t detect life,"
but the heavy dust swirling around him muffled his words, and he found himself coughing and gasping for breath, unable to call out for you.
"kenji," mina spoke slowly, sparks emitting from her side, "i couldn't find her. the kdf took her,"
kenji's heart dropped to his stomach as the ai's words sunk in. he fell to his knees, the weight of her words crushing him. "no...no," he mumbled, a weak cry escaping his lips and he covered his face in remorse.
"ken?" mina dropped to the floor, losing almost all of her power.
kenji rushed to her side, holding her in between his palms.
"i’ve observed you since you were young. i know you have doubts about following in your father’s footsteps, but i see him in you. both of your parents. your mother’s sense of humor, her directness. and your father’s quiet strength. your love for y/n, in the same way, your parents loved each other. it is beautiful. you are an amazing baseball player, kenji. but you were meant to be ultraman,"
mina displayed several holographic videos one after the other, whatever she could reach:
kenji as a child giggling and playing with his parents. both of them sandwiching and hugging him tight in between their bodies.
the holographic video ended and mina cut them, "one more thing, ken. emi’s tracking device is still active. professor sato had a tracker on y/n's suit and i converged it with emi's. you can save them,”
kenji pursed his lips, her words touching him deeply, "mina, i don’t say this enough. thank you,"
"you’re welcome. now go save our girls," mina's voice cracked. she shut down completely, while one of emi's lullabies played from her speakers.
kenji exhaled sharply, resting his head against mina for a second.
his watch beeped, displaying the location of where you and emi were currently at. it seemed to be somewhere in the middle of the ocean.
fueled by a mixture of grief and resoluteness, kenji stood and took a few steps back into the rubble.
with a final glare at the destruction around him, kenji charged forward with a powerful yell, launching himself off the edge of the cliff.
he plummeted toward the water in a free fall, his body tense and focused. he changed into his ultraman form mid-air, shooting through the horizon. determined to get his girls back.
schuwatch!
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TAGLIST !
@earth-to-mee @sassy-cat-in-town @breaddippedinorangejuice @nuhteyam @gameboigyu @byunpum @jennypenny-19 @doublebunv @moonjellyfishie @m00nd0v3 @despacito-uwu16 @reivelmin @seyoran @warlike-morning @crimson-mage-02 @b3e-sat0 @miffysoo @t4naiis @lovingyeet  @imsimping4life @mmeerraa @btszn @jusmango-shak @yobriisstuff @goldenpoison @fruchtgeschmack @iateurdad16 @bandolls @lovingyee @reivelmin @f-ergj @arrozyfrijoles23 @aise-30 @simp-hub @armycaratlover @taleiak @ellie-x0xo @femmefqtqle @mp-buezo @bakugouswaif @berryjuicyy @f-ergj @aise-30 @marshhbs @star-flecked-soul @bontensbabygirl @vynwan-cbq @scarasw1f3 @bakugouswaif @deimmortales99 
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astraystayyh · 1 year
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The wedding and the morning after
inspired by that cute twitter trend :,) very soft bang chan fluff. use of wife and husband a lot but they just got married so they get a pass!!!!!
if you guys enjoy reading please leave a reblog or comment it means the world to me <3
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Your wedding ceremony with Chan was a simple one. You weren't one for extravagance and neither was he. So you opted for an intimate setting, only inviting your favorite humans in there.
You felt as if everything was more vibrant that day- the colors of the flowers you both hand-picked, the smell of food that wafted through the air, the twinkling lights you had installed because they reminded Chan of your eyes (or so he insisted).
But you knew it had a lot less to do with the decorations, and more with the man you married. Being with Chan was like looking at the world through rose-tinted glasses.
You felt grateful that you were alive because you got to experience being loved by him.
There was music, lots of laughter, and admittedly, tears. You can blame Chan's vows for it. His words rang in your ears throughout the night- how he vowed to love you until his last breath, and long after that.
But he didn't need to make those promises, they were just honorifics. Chan has shown you time and time again that he was in love with you.
You knew by the way he tore down your walls, gently, at your pace, your hand tightly clutched in his. How he deeply cared for you, on your happy days but especially on your saddest.
You and Chan weren't perfect, but you complemented each other like two halves of one heart. You found in him a home, a safe place for you to exist and be loved.
"You are so beautiful", he whispers in your ears while the both of you sway on the dance floor. You could faintly hear the cheers of the boys who were watching you, but you paid no mind to them. All you could focus on was Chan's warm hands on your waist, holding you close.
"So are you", you beam at him. When you looked at Chan, you didn't simply see his beautiful features- his brown eyes, straight nose and plump lips. You saw a warm coffee shop, where you seek refuge on a cold day; you saw a sunset slowly casting down into the sea; you saw a field of tulips stretching into the horizon.
Looking at Chan reminded you of beautiful sceneries, of the smell of earth after the rain, of a hearty soup that fills your insides when you are ill. You saw in him every beautiful feeling you've ever experienced in your life.
"I don't know how I got so lucky", he kisses your forehead gently and you close your eyes, savoring the feel of his lips on your skin.
Chan's forehead kisses held a special place in your heart. You always felt them deep within you- as if he was kissing beyond your skin and into your soul.
"I'm the lucky one", you reply, standing on your tiptoes and pecking his forehead back. Chan blushes at your gesture, eyes crinkling closed like half moons. It made your heart sore, how affected he was by your touch even after four years of dating. You liked to believe you'd be seventy and still a giggling mess around each other.
Chan then twirls you around, your laugh echoing around the venue. He thinks to himself that he'd do anything to make you laugh this way for the rest of your lives.
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
"My feet are killing me", you whine to Chan as he parks in front of your apartment. You chose not to rush into your honeymoon, because you wanted to savor the quiet after your wedding, just the two of you. And you couldn't think of a better place to do so than your apartment.
It wasn't a huge one, but it had a makeshift studio for Chan, and a little balcony where you read. You painted the walls blue together and he bought you plants that you water everyday.
It was messy at times, but it was still your home. You knew that no matter what happened throughout the day, you can leave your worries at the door and head inside into each other's safe embrace.
Chan quickly hops to your side of the car, and opens it for you. He takes your heels off, throwing them into the backseat, before scooping you up bridal style.
"I've been dying to do this on our wedding night", he giggles excitedly and you smile, loosely looping your hands around his neck.
"Well now you can, husband."
"Say it again", he smiles as he leads you up to your apartment.
"My husband", you repeat and he quickly leans down to steal a kiss.
Chan opens the door to your apartment, finally placing you on solid ground. He loosens his black tie and you lean against the wall, admiring the view.
"Like what you see?", he teases and you smile mischievously, "This is what I married you for."
"So you are only with me for my looks?", he pouts. You would have thought he looked so adorable if not for him slowly unbuttoning his white shirt.
"I am", you smirk and suddenly, you are thrown over his shoulder. You laugh as he runs towards the bedroom, with you perched on his back.
He then gently places you down on the bed, caging your body with his arms; any hint of playfulness gone from his eyes. His gaze is so intense, you feel a blush creep up your neck. He notices, of course, and he smiles softly at you. "Is my wife getting shy on me?"
"Shut up", you glare playfully at him, and he grins, "Make me."
"You are so cheesy", you giggle as you grab his tie, pulling him down to meet your lips in a feverish kiss.
°°°°°°°°°°°
"Morning, my love", Chan smiles at you, his hand threading through your hair gently.
"Morning, honey", you smile back, stretching slightly.
"Did you sleep well?", he asks, snuggling closer to you.
"Mhm, like a baby."
"I must have tired you yesterday", he smirks and you glare playfully at him, "Cocky much?"
"And you love it."
You're about to reply when your stomach grumbles loudly. "Is my pretty wife hungry?", he teases and you bite his arm in response.
"I'll take that as a yes", he chuckles, pulling you up with him, "Let's go make you breakfast."
"Make who breakfast?" you singsong and he smiles softly at you. "Make my wife breakfast."
°°°°°°°°°°°°
You are clad in Chan's oversized t-shirt and he's only wearing a pair of black shorts. The view of Chan's back muscles is so enticing you'd almost skip breakfast if you weren't so hungry.
When you are both done cooking, you happily dig into the breakfast while recounting the weddings events- how Hyunjin and Minho got so drunk they ended up confessing their love to each other, how Felix cried during your vows, how Seungmin and Jeongin surprised you with a song cover during your first dance. You can't help but sigh contently at how simple yet loving it felt.
You then wash the dishes while Chan dries them- an easy routine you both fell into as soon as he moved in with you.
You've been married to Chan for a day but you've loved him for what feels like forever.
When the kitchen is clean, you high-five him but he doesn't let your hand go. Instead, he intertwines his fingers with yours, bringing you closer to him.
"I love you", he whispers as his thumb slowly caresses your palm.
"I love you more."
"Impossible."
"But-", Chan silences you with his lips on yours, and you both can't help but smile into the kiss.
When he leans away, he bows down slightly, offering you his hand, "May i have this dance?"
You giggle as you curtsy back, "Yes you may."
Chan twirls you around the kitchen and you feel light as air. You then spin him around and you almost lose your balance, but Chan is there to steady you with a gentle grip.
As you catch your breath, you take a moment to look around you. The kitchen is bathed in warm, golden light, and the aroma of freshly made coffee fills the air. You can't help but wonder what you'd look like to an outsider, waltzing in the kitchen with no music on.
But as you gaze up at your husband, you don't find it in you to care. You've come to learn that with Chan, even the silence can sound like the most enchanting melody.
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cute-sucker · 4 months
Text
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note: inspired by @lionasvault diner!jj x deer!reader ! <3
short masterlist: part two here, part three here, part four here, part five here, part six here !
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being a single mother with a rafe camerons child was never easy.
the little girl hung on your shoulder giggling as she held onto you, and you tried to hide the squeezing pain that you felt in your heart. she knew nothing about her situation completely obvious. 
you were a kook. all through, the short bikinis, strutting upon everything you owned, winning pageants, and academic awards. it was your life. you were a soccer player on the side of it all, a crazy defender. you had enjoyed your life, knowing that you were going to marry someone. 
rafe. 
that's who the person was going to be. the sweet boy who gave you roses on your anniversary, telling you was better than any kook girl he had met. and it was all fun and games, sneaking away to be with someone older, someone bad, someone playful and someone who treated you "well." it helped that he was kook too, smug about his place in the world, and a callous hand dragging you across to show you around at parties. 
school ended on a good note for you, and you headed to university, with high dreams and a cute boyfriend at that. sure he was brooding, sure he was mean, sure he dropped notes about you not needing a higher education because you were wife material. but your parents had told you to go and be independent. 
so that's what you were doing. now, escaping from his clutches, a six-month-old baby girl gurgled at you as you tried to ignore the unfamiliarity of the whole new place you had rented. it was a cute town you thought, the little painted signs, and you found yourself staring at the flat. your landlord's little painted key felt warm in your hand, and you found yourself tearing up. 
finally, you set down your small brown suitcase, willing yourself to be stronger. willing yourself to look at the bright side of things, the fact that the apartment had 1 room for the two of you, and the fact that the sink had pretty roses on it, and the fact that you were finally free. 
you gazed back at your baby, her sleepy smile, as her eyes blinked and when it found a familiar face - gurgled with happiness. you felt as if your heart was going to burst with happiness, and with that, you decided that you should explore the town
˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚
the town was better than you thought it would be, there was a small ballet studio across the street, meek book stands nearby, and a farmers market that sold you the ripest strawberries known to mankind. so yes, when you saw those strawberries you bought a carton. immediately your baby girl made grabby grabby hands, and you smiled down at her, brushing a curl of hair away from her face. 
"what, baby? you want one too?" you cooed, before giving her a red strawberry. she squealed before taking a big bite out of it, mushing it in her claw hands, giving you an inquisitory look. you sighed, and continued to push the stroller. 
jj's diner. 
that's what it read on bright rusty red letters, it was colored a gorgeous gray, and the glass windows showed a homely setting. grandparents sat with one other, sipping on coffees, you watched kids take big bites out of syrapy pancakes and stripes of bacon. this was a scene to beyond, and you couldn't help but yearn for it, as you opened the door of the diner. 
a sweet smell wafted by, as if fresh blueberry muffins had just been made. it felt like home, like a safe space, and before you knew it you were dragging in your stroller, and sitting down near the window. finally you found yourself smiling with joy as you looked down at the laminated plastic menu. 
"i'm jj, what can i get 'cha?" a gruff voice muttered, and you pursed your lips before looking up. it was a guy with dirty blonde hair, a backward hat, and white tee with what looked like mustard to you? "c'mon mama, i don't got all the time in the world." 
he looked at you pointly as if annoyed. the name 'jj,' seemed to flash in your mind. that was the diner's name? this was his diner, wasn't it. clearly they were short on staff. 
you flushed quickly, and you picked up your menu, "yeah i'll take the pancakes? extra syrup, and maybe some..." you crinkled your nose before looking at your baby girl who had a menu in her mouth, giving you a gumless smile "can i have mashed banana?" 
he looked baffled, chuckling while putting a hand on his hip, "mashed bananas? i don't serve that." once again you felt like an idiot stammering out your words. finally it was as if he looked at you properly, your creased clothes and messy hair. you had been up all night worrying about this move. 
he shook his head, and then swiped a hand to pick up the menus, "yeah. it's alright. mashed bananas and pancakes. got it." and somehow when he gave you that half smile you felt your heart lift up. 
˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚
by the end of the trip to the diner, you had gotten up to clean your hands asking a kind lady to look after your baby for a second - and when you came back jj was sitting next to your baby cooing. 
he gave you a confused look when you came back, as your baby chewed on his finger, giving a delighted shriek. you found yourself trying to figure out what was happening. 
"she yours?" he asked, and you gave him a quick nod before trying to pull her into your arms. you avoided his gaze. you didn't want him to say anything about it. after all, you had enough people judging you. 
instead you zoned on your baby who gave a final cry before letting you pick her up. she still reached her chubby arms for jj's, eyes welling up as if she was going to cry. 
you sighed, "really sorry about this. i know it's not okay." 
jj looked at you again, reaching for his hate before waving his hand to console you, "nah. i don't mind." 
you gave him a tightlipped smile, and then put your baby in your stroller to head out, "thanks for everything." 
"don't mention it." 
somehow you felt as if you had made a friend. 
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gyusimp · 11 days
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𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨 [𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭]
ᴹⁱⁿᵒʳˢ ᴰᴺᴵ! | ᔆᵐᵘᵗ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ | ᴬʳᵗ ᵇʸ⠘ ˢʰᵃᵈᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᴸᴼⱽᴱ ᵒⁿ ᵀʷⁱᵗᵗᵉʳ
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Kenji will always be very sweet. No matter how stupid he made you after sex, he will treat you gently and help you get back on your feet. He will clean you up first and then himself and he will be happy to take a shower together if you are okay with it. Although he is a bit of a fussy person so it is 100% certain that he will not go to sleep without changing the sheets for new ones. For your comfort and his, and he might put some air freshener in the air lol.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
I feel like Kenji is very proud of his entire body, but especially his arms and torso. Have you seen that broad back? That man is to die for and he knows it, that's why he loves sleeping shirtless and teasing you. As for you, he loves everything about you, but he definitely has a fixation on your thighs and touching your ass whenever he gets the chance.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He's open to possibilities as long as you are too. Besides cumming inside you, he likes to do it for some reason where a few drops get on your strands of hair or a few drops run down your collarbones. He has a habit of teasing you by kissing you after taste you, so you'll taste yourself on his lips.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He's fantasized about doing things with you in his Ultraman form, why? Because yes. It's really nothing more than a fantasy because not even his pinky finger could fit inside you, but imagining you so small and needy in the palm of his hand has made his thoughts go beyond the limits he thought he knew.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Nothing. Kenji has no prior experience, not even a little. As famous and handsome as he is, we know that he suffered from bullying in his childhood years which affected his social skills so if I can't imagine him with friends, much less having encounters of that kind. His first time with you was an adorable disaster but you took care of making him feel safe always and over time he managed to improve his technique quite a bit.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Any one where he can see your face but is also addicted to you riding him or if he's too needy he'll let you on top and spread his legs for you to do whatever you want.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
It depends on his mood. He usually acts normal but if he wants to tease you or is really excited he might tell a couple of dirty jokes to make you blush.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
This man is a total grooming person. I can see a shelf in his shower full of hair products, aftershave, skin moisturizers and all that stuff so yes, Kenji pays attention to detail and if he isn't completely shaved there will always be a neat, impeccable trim. You're never going to see a mess down there. Ever.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
There are times when you two are too horny to get romantic but that doesn't mean it's just sex without love. But, when he's truly focused on making love to you in every sense of the word, he's the most romantic man in the world. He makes you feel like you're on cloud nine with his soft caresses and kisses, his words are so deep that when you both finish, you end up seeing everything in rose-colored glasses and even loving your insecurities after he completely praised you from the bottom of his heart.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
I don't see Kenji doing this kind of thing, he's a mature adult and quite busy too so if he ever did it, it was in puberty out of pure curiosity. Now he has you so if he's horny he knows you can always help him and if he's lonely he'll just get moody.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
I think after taking care of Emi and researching parenting and fatherhood issues he had some praise kinks left, but nothing serious. He doesn't show it anywhere other than the bed and you discovered it little by little on your own when he told you things like how he was eager to fill you with his seed and how excited it made him to think of you carrying his baby in you one day. Whenever you bring it up he doesn't completely deny it but it's because he's a little embarrassed to admit it.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Nothing like the comfort of his bed or yours but he's open to new places to make it more exciting. Places like his basement or the stadium locker room when the team has left have been the perfect spots for a quickie.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
He likes you touching him, your hands are his weakness. Also for some reason when you are dressed up nicely, like clothes he is not used to seeing you in for example a skirt and heels to go to work or a nice dress for an event. He always thinks "is that my girlfriend?" and feels the need to rip your clothes off already.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
He doesn't agree with the idea of hurting you so he's against BSDM. If you were to ask him to do something related (like asking him to hit you or call you names) he would try to do it at first to fulfill your whim but after a while he would feel uncomfortable and maybe not want to continue. Maybe what he would tolerate a little longer would be to call you names just by seeing your intense reactions and they would be mild words like "slut" or "bitch".
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
As I mentioned before, he is inexperienced in person until after a couple of times. He likes to receive but he prefers thousands of times to give. The feeling of your folds against his tongue and your pussy between his lips is indescribable for him. He loves to grab you by the thighs and wrap his arms around your legs while he gets lost between your crotch for hours being blessed with the sound of your voice before his actions.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
It will also depend on his mood. A happy, romantic, sweet Kenji who longs to spend time with you after a long week at work will be deep and slow but careful. But a Kenji who is stressed out from losing so many games, fighting with players from other teams and tired of being a baby kaiju's single mother and breaking his back being Ultraman will throw you on the mat face down and grab onto your hips to pound you like there’s no tomorrow and then flip you over to put your knees on his shoulders because you’re dumb enough to do it on your own (of course you’re okay with all of this).
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He is a fan of quickies, he couldn't live without them. He tends to have mental breakdowns more often than you think and between so many games, interviews and training sessions he sometimes comes home too tired to do it slowly and formally, so you can also offer him several quickies a week so that they are little breaks for him and he can de-stress and continue.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He has a slight interest in doing it where he can get caught, like the time where his hands got too far with you in the stadium locker room before a game and his teammates were feet away getting ready in the hallway outside.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
He is a professional athlete who is used to hours of training, cardio and all that stuff. His average is 3-4 rounds when he feels mentally stable and physically rested. You usually ends up with pain in your lower back and the back of your knees.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
He doesn't have any toys and he wouldn't use them on himself. If he ever bought one it would be to use it with you so you could both experience something new together.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He likes to embarrass you but in a good way. Maybe he'll mention things about how desperate you are or how abundant your release was today with just a few touches. This man's ego is big and it expands to the sky when he can see you under him sweaty and moaning his name repeatedly so it's the perfect setting for him to joke around in more egotistical and arrogant ways with you to make you blush.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
If you're in a completely safe and alone place, Kenji will never shut his mouth. He's unconsciously very expressive in that aspect and will say whatever he wants and needs to say, even if something bothers him. His tone of voice is thicker and more desperate as if he's throwing little tantrums asking for more from you. Sometimes it confuses you when he claims that you're too tight around him. Is he complaining or is he grateful for it?
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
He loves to make dirty calls with you when you are at home and he is away from you. He feels very proud of himself knowing the power he has over you and how he manages to make you wet even when he is not present, calling you with some dirty nicknames that he saves just for you.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
He's not too far from average. When the baby is asleep he's pretty normal sized although still noticeable in tight jeans or his Ultraman form. But when the baby wants action he's maybe an inch or an inch and a half taller than average. Kenji is a tall, thin young man so his strengths would be more length than girth.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
In the middle, not too low or too desperate. Although sometimes his thoughts are the ones to blame for making him feel horny and that's when he asks you for help to solve it, but on a scale of 1-10 I'd leave it at 7. He knows when it's more prudent to let himself go and when not to.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He won't fall asleep until you do unless he's had a bad day and all he wants to do is sleep in your arms right after he's cum. If he's tired enough to sleep on the same sheets you two made out with earlier.
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peachsukii · 5 months
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Hiii omg I love your writings so much!!
May i request texting katsuki while reader is drunk in a bar (maybe bc reader just broke up with her previous boyfriend or sth. It’s up to you but please make it spicy 🔥) (also 18+ please 🥹)
ohhhh the things swirling in my head about this!!! thank you for the request nonnie & hope it delivers! 💜
on the rocks
『 ♡ 』  k.bakugo x fem!reader ꒰ pro-hero au | age 24 | friends to fwb ꒱ ⇢ your week couldn’t get any worse. between a screw up at work and getting dumped out of the blue, you needed to desperately let off some steam. thank goodness the girls were more than happy to take you out for the night in the city and spoil you with a good time. everything’s fine until you receive a text that spirals into an unpredicted hookup.
꒰ tags & warnings ꒱ 18+ MDNI mentions of alcohol, mild/implied smut, suggestive texting, friends to friends with benefits, heavy flirting, sexually comfortable reader, reader went through a break-up, soft bakugo, fluffy ꒰ cross posted to ao3 | wc; ~2.6k ꒱ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist
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The bartender hands you the drink you ordered, nodding a thanks when you smile at her. You’re not drunk, per se, but you’re definitely buzzed - that warm and fuzzy feeling dancing through your veins, letting you relax for the first time all week. Tonight's goal was to think about absolutely nothing, to let go of all the shit weighing on your shoulders. Even if it's just for one night, anything to shake away the pain you've been carrying.
But the alcohol seems to be betraying you, forcibly shoving those thoughts to the forefront of your mind instead of burying them.
Memories of your ex begin to haunt you as your mind wanders aimlessly, the dam bursting that was keeping it all at bay. You try and shake your head to rid yourself of the feelings, but they just wouldn’t go away.
God, fuck him and every false promise he made to you.
Some people would consider three months a short amount of time, but to you, it felt like an eternity. He seemed so sweet, caring and kind when you first met, but once he forcibly ripped off your rose-colored glasses? He was nothing but a walking pile of shit.
Suddenly, your phone dings on the bar, lighting up to show a text message notification.
'Who the fuck is texting me so late?'
You blink a few times, re-reading the contact name before it registers: Katsuki Bakugo.
That's rather...odd. He's notorious for going to bed by 9pm - it’s almost midnight. You two were friends, sure, but never the 'text you in the middle of the night' type of friends. Curious to know what he wanted, you open the text to reveal nothing but a picture. When you squint through your hazy vision, you realize just what you're looking at.
It's a picture of Bakugo from the neck down, laying on his bed in nothing but grey sweats that are tugged down and nestled at the bottom of his hip bones. The pose accentuates the delicious deep V below his abs and shows the blonde trail disappearing underneath the hem of his sweatpants. The shadows trace each well-earned muscle, perfectly outlining them in the dim light of his bedroom.
Was this meant for you? Did he send it to you by accident? Your mind goes blank, stopping your previous train of thought about your stupid ex.
…did he send it to you on purpose? Your core pulses at the thought, causing you to cross your legs defensively.
Right on queue, another text pops up, your phone vibrating in your hands.
[katsuki] fuck, sorry. that was an accident
That was a bold face fucking lie, and you knew it. Bakugo's not that stupid to send the wrong text by mistake, especially a selfie. There's no way in hell he would even take a picture like that for someone unless he wanted it to be seen.
Liquid courage does you a favor when you reply, loosely teasing him about it.
[you] damn, katsuki. who's the lucky girl?
You don't notice Mina approaching you with how intently you're staring at your phone screen, startling you when she taps your shoulder.
"What are ya doing over here?! Come dance with us!" she pleads, pulling on your arm. She notices how you're clutching your phone like a lifeline and the coral tint on your cheeks. She quirks an eyebrow at you. "Who are you texting?"
Oh god, find a lie - fast! She'll see right through your facade if you don't.
"No one, just a spam text."
Mina stares at you - shit, she knows you're lying.
"You're a shit liar, babe. Who is it?"
"I got a random text from Katsuki," you admit, the flush in your cheeks deepening at his name. Are you into him, or is it the alcohol in your system? It's no secret that he's attractive, he's always been effortlessly handsome. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't checked him out a few times, but never acted on it. The two of you were friends and you’d assumed he didn't think much else of you.
Mina grabs the phone from your hands, entering in your passcode (how did she know it?!) and reading the texts. Her eyes blow open, pinching the screen to zoom in on the photo. You scramble to grab the phone back to quit her oogling as she's squealing with glee.
"Holy shit!" she yells. "Accident my ass, Blasty. Damn, that's hot."
"Mina! Keep your voice down," you beg, locking the screen to prevent anyone else from seeing.
"No one is listening over this music," she squawks, punching you lightly in the arm. "Come back to us soon you minx!"
And with that, she leaves you at the bar, returning to the dance circle with the rest of your girlfriends. Your phone vibrates a few more times in your hand and recaptures your attention.
[katsuki] thought you'd like a distraction [katsuki] shit, if this is weird, just tell me and i'll fuck off [katsuki] i should've just asked instead
So it was on purpose. You swallow hard as you shakily type out your reply, trying to keep your cool.
[you] it's not weird, what made you think of me? [katsuki] mina wouldn't shut the fuck up about you earlier. sent me pictures of you in the dress you have on, couldn't get it outta my head
When the fuck did Mina do that?! You had thought she was taking pictures of herself earlier at your apartment. That sneaky bitch!
[you] goddammit mina, i'm sorry about her. why would she send them to you?
You see the typing indicator pop up and disappear a few times before his response arrives.
[katsuki] you know how she is, playing matchmaker and shit with everybody [katsuki] honestly? i'm not mad about it [you] oh? [you] so that's why you sent it to me. hell of a pickup line kats [katsuki] fuck off [katsuki] i can't deny that you're gorgeous [you] yeah? feelings mutual
Your face is burning hot, sitting at the bar in disbelief that Bakugo's flirting with you. And it was all because he was infatuated with what you're wearing? He couldn't get it out of his head?
You're still debating on whether you want to yell at or thank Mina for igniting this fire. [katsuki] where are you right now? [you] sitting at the bar, some club in the city
Another picture is delivered to you on screen and has your jaw dropping to the floor.
The picture is closer to his face this time, cut off at his cheekbones and barely illuminated as Bakugo's fingers are parted over his mouth. His tongue is lazily hanging above his bottom lip with a string of salvia attached to one of his fingers.
Your legs twitch as you bite your lip, imagining his face slotted between your thighs.
[you] holy shit, katsuki...fuck [katsuki] find a bathroom or some dark corner [katsuki] there's more where that came from. just say the word, princess
The pet name is doing things to you that you didn't think was possible. Your overloaded with a sudden rush of arousal, heat twisting in your belly at his promise. Grabbing your bag from the chair, you bolt to the nearest bathroom and lock the door behind you. Luckily, this club's on the nicer side, the bathroom not being as scummy as you thought it would be. You set your things on the counter and grab your phone, turning the camera on and pointing it in the mirror.
If that's how he wanted to play? You could play right back.
[you] that deserves a reward
The photo attached shows your breast pushed closed together, daring to spill out of the top of your dress and wearing the poutiest lip you could muster.
Bakugo’s response is immediate.
[katsuki] goddamn, your tits look amazing in that dress [you] would you believe me if i said they look better out of it?
You turn the camera back on and click the record button, sensually slipping the top of your dress down and letting your breasts loosely lay over the bust. Your nipples are pebbled from the rousing desire flowing through you, making them standing perfectly at attention. You give the camera a wink and squeeze one of your breasts playfully. Once you're happy with the video, you send it with no hesitation and readjust your dress. [katsuki] holy fuck [katsuki] you alone? That's not the response you expected, but you roll with it. [you] yeah, one person bathroom
- Incoming Call: Katsuki Bakugo -
You stare at the contact screen for a few seconds before picking up.
"Hey Kat," you greet, nervousness wracking your body, the thrill of the situation making your heart flutter.
"I wanted 'ta hear your voice instead," Bakugo groans, heavy breaths following his words. "I never thought you'd...want to do this with me."
You can't help but laugh under your breath. "Never thought you wanted to, either."
You're thankful that your not drunk off your ass after all - you want to remember this. You're tipsy, but coherent.
And turned on to high heaven.
Bakugo breaks the silence before you cut him off. "I know you're fresh outta-"
"Katsuki, he's not worth mentioning. I'm focused on you right now."
"Yeah? Tell me more."
"I'd love to see what you're hiding under those sweats, Dynamight. I'm practically a puddle just thinking about it. How do you think my lips would look wrapped around you?"
You can hear Bakugo exhale into the phone and groan. He tries to hide it, but fails miserably.
"Cat got your tongue, huh? Too forward?"
"N-no. It's fuckin' hot. Shit," he whispers with baited breath. "God, what club are you at again?"
"The one near Shibuya station. Crystal Crown, I think. Why?"
There's a pause before you hear various clicks and a beep or two from his side before he answers.
"Changed my mind, this ain't happenin' over the phone the first time. You're 15 minutes from my place, I'm comin' to get ya."
You can feel your panties soak from your excitement, clenching at the thought of him just ravaging you in his car and not being able to make it back to his apartment before touching you like a man starved.
"Coming to sweep me off my feet or to fuck my brains out?" The words spill from your lips before you can stop them, but you don’t regret it when you hear Bakugo moan in response - loudly.
"Fuckin’ - have you been stockpilin’ this shit ‘ta say to me?" He laughs. “You’re gonna kill me before I leave the damn apartment.”
“Didn’t think you’d be so easy to play with,” you joke playfully, twirling a piece of your hair in your fingers. “Better get here before I change my mind, find some other rebound in this stupid club.”
“I’ll be your fuckin’ rebound any day of the week, sweetheart. Ain’t no guy in that building better than me.”
His confidence makes it difficult to bite back the moan in your throat.
“Guess you need to prove it. Get your ass over here, I’ll be out front. You better be wearing those sweats.”
You’re about to hang up when you hear Bakugo say something quietly, too muted for you to make out right away.
“Kats?”
He clears his throat before repeating himself, his voice soft and low. “You sure y’want this? I don’t wanna fuck anythin’ up or whatever.”
“You won’t fuck anything up, nothing wrong with friends fucking with no strings attached. I already flashed my tits at you, no turning back now.”
You subtly hear him let go of the breath he was holding and a hollow chuckle, sounding relieved at your answer.
“Good. See ya soon.”
The line ends with a click, leaving you with your thoughts while staring in the bathroom mirror. You didn’t realize how badly you’ve been shaking until you attempt to walk, unexpectedly stumbling like a baby deer on your heels. Once you gather yourself, you exit the bathroom and hurry over to the dance floor. Mina spots you, rolling her eyes and placing her hands on her hips when you approach the group.
“Where the hell have you been?!” She shouts over the music. “I was starting to think you died in there.”
“I’m heading home,” you say while waving your hand, brushing away her worries.
“Oh…oh my god. Is Bakugo coming to get you?!”
“Mina!”
Jiro and Uraraka turn in your direction, yelling in unison. “Bakugo?!?!”
You palm your face, desperately attempting to hide your flared cheeks as the girls squeal and cheer for you.
“Stop it! We’re still just friends!”
Mina clicks her tongue. “Uh-huh. That’s what I said about Kiri a year ago, and now look at us!”
“You gotta let us know how it goes,” Uraraka winks, elbowing you in the rib. "Rumor has it he lives up to his hero name in bed."
Before the interrogation continues, you back away from the group with a smile and turn for the entrance. You slide through the doors and slip out onto the sidewalk and see Bakugo parked out front, smiling as his eyes spot you on the busy street.
Has he ever smiled at you like that before?
He gets out of the car and walks around to greet you.
“Hey Katsu-”
Before you can process what’s happening, Bakugo’s got one hand on your waist and the other on the back of your neck. He gently leans you against the car as he swoops down to place a featherlight kiss to your lips. You squeak before melting into him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Sparks are flying through your whole body - a sensation you haven’t felt for a long time. When the two of you part, his eyes are half-lidded, cheeks flushed and lips parted with shallow breaths.
“Ready to go?” He asks, removing the hand from your neck and stroking your cheek with his thumb. Your heart is in your throat, strangling any words you try to say, so instead, you just nod ‘yes.’ Bakugo walks you to the passenger side and opens the door for you, just like any other time you’ve hung out. When he shuts the door and goes to walk to the drivers side, you finally notice he’s wearing the damn grey sweatpants.
The entire drive back to his place, Bakugo’s hand doesn’t leave your thigh. His fingers danced over your skin, playing with the hem of your dress and gingerly squeezing the plush surface every so often. You return the favor, walking your fingers up the inside of his thigh a few times, stopping short of the growing tent in his sweats. Pulling up to his apartment complex seems to take the breath out of both of you. He turns the car off and you sit idly in silence, it's only a minute or two, but feels like a lifetime.
Bakugo gets out first, jogging over to your side to open your door. He takes your hand as you stand, closing the door behind you and swiftly sweeping you off your feet into his arms, bridal style.
"Wow, do all the girls you bring home get this treatment?" you tease, planting a kiss on his warm cheek.
"Never had the pleasure of bringin' a princess home, so no."
That shuts you up and makes you quiver in his hold.
"I'm honored, sir Dynamight. Take me to your castle!" You swoon, dramatically leaning back with a hand over your head.
Bakugo shakes his head and grins, starting to jog through the parking lot and up the stairs with you. You hold onto his shoulders while giggling uncontrollably, ecstatic to see where the night takes you.
One things for certain - you haven't thought about your ex once. And you look forward to keeping it that way.
tags; @slayfics @maddietries
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ash-says · 6 months
Text
Tips for Dysfunctional Family Girlies Part 2:
1) Get your basics straight. Education. Boundaries. Financial independence. Further breaking it down and linking it if you get proper education at some point you are bound to get an awareness of this world, if you are able to adapt and improvise yourself and develop your emotional intelligence and get your boundaries straight you will save yourself a lot of unnecessary drama and problems. Education (formal and informal) both will help you in gaining opportunities and if you are financially independent, you are holding the power to make your own decisions.
2) Develop thick skin. Your mom is calling you names. Slut, whore and what not. Your dad doesn't trust you and abuses you physically. So, what now? Are you going to let them define what you are or internalize the anger and use it as a fuel to become successful? Choice is yours.
3) They say you don't owe an explanation to anyone. Sorry to burst your little bubble. Actually you do. We live in a society and have relationships that we need to maintain for survival. This hyper independent stuff is only good to read. We have responsibilities that we need to fulfill. If you don't owe an explanation to anyone then don't cry about a closure from someone too. If you can live by this go ahead and practice it.
4) Stop isolating yourself. That's it. That's the point.
5) First kill the fear inside you. Being a rebel outside the house is no good. Be disciplined. Know how to manipulate your family members in your favor and if you can't just find the weak points and threaten. I know it's difficult to implement but you learn through trial and error. Plus something is better than nothing.
6) Stop glorifying people who treat you with kindness and love. That's the bare minimum. Just because you didn't get it served in a silver spoon doesn't mean it is not served in a silver spoon. People can have ulterior motives and even if they don't fix it in your brain that's normal. No rose colored glasses allowed.
7) Don't be afraid of indulging in your sexuality. No I am not saying go and have sex with people. I mean it in a deeper sense. Connect with the repressed sexual side and try to find healthy outlets. Don't dim yourself to fit in others'expectations or to ease someone's insecurity. Be unapologetic about your wants and desires. Know yourself. It's a powerful energy source if you know how to use it positively.
8) Cry, cry and cry. Wail like a child. No need to keep it all in. No need to act like a macho woman BUT only in front of your god or your belief system. Max in front of your truly trusted people.
9) Question everything as easily as breathing. Doubt every thing. Every action. Every person. What proof do you have to not doubt ? Stop giving benefit of doubts. Stop looking for excuses on how they could be good and instead look for ways in which they can harm you. That's your lottery to be poised and composed. It's just what it is.
10) Obsession. We have it in loads. That's natural to us. So the trick here is to be obsessive. Hella obsessive but about things, topics, goals, subjects, inanimate things,etc. God forbid but never be obsessive about a person. Not even over your dead body. Why? For that I need to make another detailed post I think.
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clockwayswrites · 7 months
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Masked in Amity
CW: Sam doesn't come off great in this, but not Sam bashing. She just has a lot of growing up to do still and knee jerk reacts badly. (I also don't want to listen to any Sam bashing please and ty.)
Sam’s room still looked the same as always. Danny supposed that’s what happened when someone moved out for college but still came home again— especially to a home like Sam’s. There were only a few posters, a few photos, and a knickknack or two that had changed between high school and now. Danny sat on the edge of the bed like always.
“So how’s school doing?” Danny asked into the awkward silence. Silences never used to be awkward between them, or was that just looking back with rose colored glasses?
“Ugh,” Sam gripped and flopped back onto her bed next to Danny. “Why would you even ask me that? You know I hate it.”
“Because it’s what you’re doing right now? It’s a huge part of your life, you can’t just… avoid it.”
“Watch me,” Sam said, bitterly. Her snarled lips looked weird without the dark purple lipstick. “I’m going to get my stupid law degree my parents are paying for and work at some stupid corporate firm Dad has connections at and when my trust fund has made enough in interest I’m going to quite and go open a non-profit and sue all those fuckers I was forced to work for over how they’ve fucked up the environment.”
“Okay,” Danny said. He didn’t want to argue about this. He just hoped this plan worked better than the last three Sam had had before her privilege knocked her down a peg.
“Can I ask about, I don’t know, your time in Chicago at least?”
“Chicago is amazing,” Sam said, wistfully. “Being in Chicago, I mean, I’m sure you know how it is, it really makes it clear how backwater Amity Park is. The things people worry about here are so small compared to what’s out there!”
Danny just hummed in response. He didn’t exactly know what to say to that. It didn’t feel completely wrong, but it wasn’t right either. Worries weren’t a competition like that.
“And the bands!” Sam continued, thankfully changing the topic. “I have got to see so many amazing bands. The local scene alone is amazing and no one knows about them so you can be right up close and a lot of times even talk to the band after. You should come for a show sometime.”
“I can try to,” Danny said. Sam’s music wasn’t usually his thing, but something like that might be fun. It would be different at least. Danny gave her a little smile. “Maybe Tucker could make it out too.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “You know he won’t. When was the last time you talked to him not on the computer or the phone? He’s only here at Christmas when you aren’t.”
“You know how I feel about Christmas, Sam,” Danny said, holding back a sigh. Sure Tucker had been busy lately and that had made him more distant, but he was still one of their trio. “And if we plan something then Tucker can schedule for it. Don’t count him out just because he’s busy.”
“Alright, fine, we can plan something for a bigger show with Tucker,” Sam agreed, “but you still need to come out to something local. They’re really better anyways. We’ll go out to eat first and hit up a bar or three after. I know some really great places— places like you’ve never seen.”
Sam reached up and wrapped her hands around Danny’s neck, pulling him down a little. “It can be a date.”
Something in Danny balked at that. It was an innocent enough comment. Sam and him had dated and then not and then dated again or just had fun together. They’d known each other so long that it was easy to just ebb and flow out of the different levels of a relationship like that.
This time, though, Danny found himself resisting the tide. “Or we can just hang out.”
The almost dreamy smile Sam had crumpled into a frown. “What? I mean, sure, it can, but why? Are you seeing someone?”
“Yes? No? I mean, I’ve been… sleeping with someone, but we’re not dating or anything.”
“That’s okay,” Sam said easily. “I’m not going to make you be exclusive. I don’t want to be either right now; we’re not around each other enough for that and You know that I’ve been sleeping with my roommate sometimes and I’ve met a cute person in study group now too with amazing fingers.”
“No, I know, just…” Danny gave a frustrated noise. Nightwing and him weren’t even close to being exclusive. Someone like Nightwing could have anyone they wanted and with how much he liked sex, Danny was pretty sure Nightwing did have whoever he wanted. Danny was just… convenient for the hero side and Danny didn’t begrudge the other that. It was convenient for Danny too. It was just…
Danny didn’t want to keep living the same cycle with Sam where he was her world for a few weeks or months and then just back to an occasional phone call. He didn’t want to keep being pulled back to Amity Park. Maybe meeting her in Chicago would be different enough, but Sam was still so tied to Amity and always would be by her parent’s money.
“Maybe we shouldn’t do this again,” Danny said slowly, feeling the words out as he said them. “Maybe it’s time just to leave us dating in the past?”
Sam dropped her hands and sat up. “Excuse me?”
Danny rubbed at the back of his neck. “Just, we’ve tried being together in a lot of different ways and we always end up in the same place.”
“So you want to leave me in the past?”
“No!” Danny said quickly, trying to get ahead of this before Sam spiraled too badly from making assumptions. “I’d love to come to Chicago and see a band with you! Just… not as a date.”
“Because you want to leave that in the past,” Sam snapped and got up off the bed.
Danny scrambled off also.
“That’s not a bad thing. I enjoyed it and I know you did too. Just more, okay, maybe that wasn’t the best phrase? I mean maybe we shouldn’t go down that road again when we know where it’s going to end.”
Sam crossed her arms. That was never a good sign. “Right, because I’m always going to be a dead end, is that it? Not like you who’s off playing hero with the big names?”
“What? What does me being a Titan have to do with this?”
“Don’t play dumb, Danny, we both know you’re not. You left to go be a famous hero and hardly looked back at Amity Park or me or Tucker or your parents. What if the town needed you?”
Danny threw his hands up in the air. “Why would they need me? I destroyed the portal, came to an agreement with Vlad, made sure my parents couldn’t build another working one— it fixed everything!”
“And then left.”
“So I could help other people!”
“Sure it wasn’t so that you could be famous?”
Danny closed his mouth with a clack.
Sam winced at her own words. “Danny…”
“No.” Danny backed up a few steps from her. “No. You don’t get to— you of all people don’t get to come at me like that! I never wanted to be a hero, Sam! You’re the one who said I needed to protect Amity and you were right, sure, but it’s never what I wanted! You wanted it!”
“Danny, no—” Sam reached out for him and Danny stepped back again, hitting the wall.
“Yes you did, Sam! You did or I never would have had to die a second time after your wish! I lost everything again! I don’t have a future like you and Tucker, I just have being a hero. I just have being dead.”
“Come on Danny,” Sam tried. She moved close again, slowly, like Danny was some sort of feral animal.
Maybe he really was just a caged beast.
“I’m just— I better go. I’m just going to go,” Danny said. In a flash of light he was back to being Phantom. He let himself tip back and phase through the wall.
As he left Amity Park behind, he couldn’t help but think it really said something that he was far more comfortable being Phantom these day than Danny.
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AN: Here's yous all voted on treat for the day! This comes before Danny showing up at Dick's door, quite upset.
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