#these asks are so warm and sweet and lovely to answer

[chexnluv]

ENHYPEN CHOOSES: DO THEY LOVE YOUR PERSONALITY OR LOOKS MORE? , (👾)

pairing: boyfriend ! enhypen × girlfriend ! afab reader, genre: fluff, headcanon, warning(s): pet names, kissing, not proofread, [NAV] [MASTERLIST]

LEE HEESEUNG ,

“If you had to choose my personality or my looks, which would it be?” you asked out of the blue, glancing at your boyfriend who was casually scrolling through his phone. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, clearly caught off guard. “Huh?” he asked, momentarily confused before quickly answering, “Your personality, of course.” Your lips curled into a playful pout. “So... you think I’m ugly?” you muttered, narrowing your eyes at him. The boy nearly dropped his phone in panic, eyes wide as he scrambled to fix his words. “No, no! That’s not what I meant!” He leaned forward, reaching for your hand in an attempt to soothe your sudden outburst. “You’re absolutely gorgeous to me. It’s just—your personality is what had me hooked from the start.” He gave you an earnest smile, his voice softening. “You’re beautiful inside and out. But it’s the real you that I love most.”

rest of the members below !!

PARK JONGSEONG [JAY] ,

“Jay? My personality or my looks?” you asked, hoping for a light-hearted, playful response. You were expecting some teasing, but instead, Jay turned to you, locking his eyes with yours, his gaze steady and sincere. “Personality, without a doubt,” he replied, his voice soft but firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation. You blinked, about to protest or perhaps tease him for being too serious, but he didn’t give you a chance. He gently took your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he continued, “Looks can fade, but the person you are? That’s what makes me love you more every single day.” His words were so honest, so straightforward, that they made your heart skip a beat. A smile tugged at your lips, and you felt warmth bloom in your chest. There was no need to question him further—his answer spoke volumes, leaving you smiling uncontrollably.

SIM JAEYUN [JAKE] ,

“Jake! Choose between my personality and my looks,” you asked, catching him off guard. Jake’s eyes widened slightly as he scratched the back of his neck, a nervous laugh escaping him. “Do I really have to choose, baby?” he asked, his lips curving into a playful grin. You nodded eagerly, crossing your arms as you waited for his response. He glanced at you thoughtfully, his gaze softening as he considered your question. After a few seconds, his face lit up with that signature warm smile that made your heart flutter. “It’s your personality,” he finally said. “That’s what I fell in love with.” You raised an eyebrow, playfully teasing him with a curious look, but before you could speak, he added, “But your looks? Definitely a bonus for me.” The sincerity in his voice, combined with the cheeky tone, made you blush, your heart swelling at the sweet, genuine answer. You couldn’t help but laugh as you leaned into him, feeling content.

PARK SUNGHOON ,

“Personality or looks?” you asked, your voice casual but curious. Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a teasing smile as he glanced over at you. He took a moment to think, clearly not taking the question too seriously. “Well, your looks definitely caught my attention first,” he admitted, his tone playful yet sincere. You raised an eyebrow, about to respond with a smirk, “So, my personality is crap—” but before you could finish, Sunghoon’s soft chuckle interrupted you. He shook his head, eyes sparkling with amusement. “But it’s your personality that keeps me here,” he said, his voice softening as he leaned in slightly, his gaze locking onto yours with that familiar warmth. He winked, trying to play it cool, but the way his eyes lingered on you with adoration gave him away. Your heart fluttered, unable to hold back the smile spreading across your face as you saw just how much he cared.

KIM SUNOO ,

“Sunoo… what do you love more? My personality or my looks?” you asked, your tone light but curious. The moment the question left your lips, his signature bright smile spread across his face. Without hesitation, he answered, “It’s your personality, obviously,” his voice filled with enthusiasm, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Your smile faltered into a small pout, feeling a little playful betrayal wash over you. “That’s it? I’m not pretty anymore?” you muttered, your bottom lip jutting out slightly as you avoided his gaze. Sunoo’s smile softened, his eyes twinkling with affection as he reached out, gently pulling you closer. “You’re so much fun to be around,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “And that’s what makes you beautiful in every way.” Before you could protest, he tugged you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around you as he whispered sweet, pretty names into your ear, making sure you felt as cherished as ever.

YANG JUNGWON ,

“Jungwon, my personality or my looks?” you muttered out of the blue, your voice quiet in the stillness of the night. He glanced over at you, confused for a second before realizing it was one of your random 3 a.m. thoughts that often popped up at the most unexpected times. He blinked, processing the question before answering softly, “Your personality.” Sensing you might overthink his words, he quickly added, “It’s what makes you special and unique. Looks are just a small part of what I love about you.” You squinted at him, feigning deep thought before smirking. “So, you wouldn’t mind talking to me while I wear one of those weird face masks?” He chuckled, trying to hold back a full laugh as he shook his head. “That’s definitely not what I meant,” he teased back, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he leaned closer, giving you a playful nudge.

NISHIMURA RIKI [NIKI] ,

“Personality or looks?” you muttered casually, eyeing Niki with a playful glint. He shifted slightly, fully aware that these random questions often spiraled into playful arguments, and he wanted to avoid that this time. “Do I really have to answer that?” he joked, a hint of mischief in his tone, hoping to dodge the bullet. “Answer it,” you insisted, your tone firm but teasing, a smile playing on your lips. He shrugged, pretending to think it over, but as he glanced at your expectant face, he realized there was no escaping this. With a resigned sigh, he finally muttered, “Your personality, for sure. That’s why we connect so well…” His voice trailed off as he added with a sheepish smile, “But, but, but… you’re definitely the prettiest girl to me.” Relief washed over him when he saw your smile widen, the playful tension dissipating as you leaned closer, feeling both cherished and adored.

© chexnluv | tumblr

[v-e-l-v-e-t-g-o-l-d-m-i-n-e]

Louis + his ways of saying "I love you" to Lestat

"Is this an offer, Louis? Have you come back to me, as lovers say?" His eyes darkened and he looked away from me. "I'm not mocking you, Louis," I said. "You've come back to me, Lestat," he said evenly, looking at me again. "When I heard the first whispers of you at Dracula's Daughter, I felt something that I thought was gone forever --" He paused. - The Vampire Lestat

There was so much I wanted to say to him, to ask him. Yet I couldn’t find the words really, or a way to begin. He had always had so many questions; and now he had his answers, more answers perhaps than he could ever have wanted; and what had this done to his soul? Stupidly I stared at him. How perfect he seemed to me as he stood there waiting with such kindness and such patience. And then, like a fool, I came out with it. “Do you love me now?” I asked. He smiled; oh, it was excruciating to see his face soften and brighten simultaneously when he smiled. “Yes,” he said. - Queen of the Damned

He grew reflective again and very sad. It almost hurt me to look at him. I wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, but that would only have made him furious. "I love you," he said softly. I was amazed. "You're always looking for a way to triumph," he continued. "You never give in. But there is no way to triumph. This is purgatory we're in, you and I. All we can be is thankful that it isn't actually hell." - The Tale of the Body Thief

I came towards him, planted my hands on his desk and looked into his face. "I was so sure you would understand this. And by the way, I wasn't born a monster! I was a born a mortal child, the same as you. Stronger than you! More will to live than you! That was cruel of you to say." "I know. It was wrong. Sometimes you frighten me so badly I hurl sticks and stones at you. It's foolish. I'm glad to see you, though I dread admitting it. I shiver at the thought that you might have really brought an end to yourself in the desert! I can't bear the thought of existence now without you! You infuriate me! Why don't you laugh at me? You've done it before." - The Tale of the Body Thief

"Have you suffered in my absence?" I asked, looking back at the altar. Very soberly he answered, "It was pure hell." I didn't reply. "Each risk you take hurts me," he said. "But that is my concern and my fault." "Why do you love me?" I asked. "You know, you've always known. I wish I could be you. I wish I could know the joy you know all the time." "And the pain, you want that as well?" "Your pain?" He smiled. "Certainly. I'll take your brand of pain anytime, as they say." - The Tale of the Body Thief

I stopped. I put my arm around him. I held him close to me. “I’m Lestat,” I said in a low voice. “Your Lestat. I’m the same Lestat you’ve always known, and no matter how I’m changed, I’m still that same being.” “I know,” he said warmly. I kissed him. I pressed my lips to his and I held this kiss for a long silent moment. And then I gave in to a silent wave of feeling, and I took him in my arms. I held him tight against me. I felt his unmistakable silken skin, his soft shining black hair. I heard the blood throbbing in him, and time dissolved, and it seemed I was in some old and secret place, some warm tropical grotto we’d once shared, ours alone in some way, with the scent of sweet olive blossoms and the whisper of moist breeze. “I love you,” I whispered. In a low intimate voice, he answered: “My heart is yours.” - Prince Lestat

I couldn’t believe I’d heard right. I stared at him as helplessly as I had in the hallway of the townhouse when I’d first seen him, trying to grasp what he had said. He leaned close to me, and he put his hand on my arm. “ ‘Wither thou goest, I will go, and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people’; and because I have no other god and never will, you shall be my god.” - Prince Lestat and The Realms of Atlantis

When I was finally led down the stairs, Louis came with me. In the darkened passage before my resting place, he embraced me and held tight to me, his lips pressed to my ear. I was aware of my hands moving over his hair, embracing his neck, drawing him ever closer, in a way I had never done in our long years in New Orleans. We joined in the posture of lovers, brothers, fathers with sons. “I love you with my whole soul, and I will always love you,” he confided to me. “You are my life. I have hated you for that and love you now so much that you’ve been my instructor in loving. And believe me when I say you will survive this, and that you must for all of us. You will survive because you always have and you always will.” - Blood Communion

[thecuriousbeauty]

You're on your period- Harry Styles Blurb

Word count: 1178

Synopsis: Periods really suck. But not so much when you have a sweet boyfriend to take care of you. (FLUFF!)

You felt like you were going to cry as you opened the freezer and saw that you were out of ice cream. You were looking forward to binge eating that ice cream and watching your favorite show when you get back from work. You had a particularly long day, or maybe you just felt like that because of the piercing pain from your period cramps and your hormones being all over the place. 

You shut the door of the freezer with a sigh, dragging yourself to bed. You curled up, clutching your stomach as another bad wave of pain hits you. You forgot to take some pain meds when you were downstairs, and you were just too tired so you just layed there.Your boyfriend, who you now remember, had helped you finish the last of the ice cream when you had a movie night last week wasn’t home yet, so you phoned him.

“Hey baby! You back home?”, Harry answers and you pout, just wanting to crawl into his arms. “Harry..”

“What’s wrong, darling? Are you okay?” He doesn’t like it when your voice isn’t sounding peppy.

“Nooo..”, you draw out, making Harry frown  as he gets in his car, being done with the studio for the day. “Why is that, baby? Anything I can help with?”

“We ran out of ice cream..can you get some for me please?”, you ask softly, making Harry’s heart melt. He loved when you asked him to get things for you, even if it was something small. 

“Of course, love. You aren’t feeling too good, are you?”, he coos, joining the dots as he remembers the date. He keeps track of your periods too. 

“Nuh uh. I’m having a war with my uterus right now.”, you tell him, making him chuckle softly. “I can’t imagine what that’s like. Anything else you need, baby? Stocked up for the week?”

You really have the sweetest boyfriend. “Yeah, I’m good. Just need you.”

“Aw, I’ll be home soon, my love. You get some rest, yeah?”

You hummed, closing your eyes already. “Love you.”

“I love you too. Oh, what flavor did you want?”

“Flavor?”, you smirk, and Harry laughs. “The ice cream flavor, silly.”

___________________________________

Harry didn’t just buy you ice cream. He got you your favorite packet of chips, some chocolate and some other snacks you liked. He kept it all in the kitchen and went upstairs to find you. You had dozed off while waiting for him, and he smiled as he took you in, walking to you quietly. He leaned down, gently brushing his fingers across your forehead, brushing away strands of your hair that fell onto your face. 

He thought not to wake you up and just slide into bed so he could give you a cuddle, but he spotted a stain on your shorts that would leak into the sheets soon. He didn’t mind, but he knew you would, so he gently kisses you awake with some kisses. 

You wake up to his feather soft kisses on your skin, a contrast to your aching stomach. You open your eyes and Harry gives you a smile. “How’re you doing, love?”

“Not good, it hurts.”, you mumble, sighing as he presses a kiss to your temple. “Oh, baby. You wanna take a warm shower, maybe? You’ve uh, got a bit of blood on your shorts.”

Your eyes widened and you quickly looked down to your shorts and around the bed. “Shit..I’m sorry babe, I fell asleep and didn’t realize-”

“-Hey, hey, it’s okay, sweetheart.”, he says, giving you his hand to help you out of bed. Thankfully, the blood hadn’t seeped into your sheets yet. “See, the sheets are fine. If it wasn’t, I’d change them, nothing to be sorry about.”, Harry tells you, and you smile softly, leaning to his side carefully, giving him a side hug. 

“I’ve got you some snacks too. After you’re feeling all fresh, we can cuddle up on the couch with a movie, hm?”

You nod, pressing your lips to his, giving him a kiss. “That sounds good.”

Harry lets you take care of your business and shower. He also got changed and set up all the food with a movie, bringing your fuzzy blanket to the couch. He got your heating pad and your pain meds ready as well.

You slouched over downstairs in one of Harry’s shirts and another pair of your shorts, making him smile at how cute you looked. Your hair was up in a messy bun, and you had no makeup on your face, but to him, you were gorgeous.

He opens his arms, and you fall into them, crawling onto his lap. “How was your day?”

“Good, good. Got some recording done, but I’ll probably do the same part again tomorrow. I missed you.”, he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek, holding you close to him with arm as he leans over to grab the pain meds. “Here, take these, love.”

You swallowed them down with the water he gave you and rested your head on his chest, snuggling up to his warmth. 

While you tell him about your day, he slides the heating pad under your shirt to keep it over your tummy, before adjusting you on his lap and bringing the fuzzy blanket around you. One of his hands slips inside to rub your lower back in firm circles, with just the right amount of pressure, making you feel relaxed. When you told him about your ice cream craving, he immediately grabbed the tub and gave you the spoon so you can start digging in. 

“Thanks for all this, you’re the best.” You kiss him. 

“Only the best for you.”, he says, smiling as he watches you scoop some of the ice cream into your mouth and hum as the cold desert with the luscious chocolate hits just the right spots. “That good, huh?” Harry laughs.

“Yes! Here, I’m willing to share.”, You fed him some too. “Mm, that’s good.”, he agrees. You watch the movie for some time.

“Is the pain going away?”, he asks, pressing kisses to your hair and you smile, kissing his jaw. One of his hands still stayed on your back, and the other was playing with your hair. “Mhmm. You make it better.”

“I’m glad.” He smiles, stroking his thumb over your cheek. “Hate to see my baby in pain.” You blush, looking up at your handsome boyfriend. “I really like you, you know?”

He scoffs out a laugh, pinching your cheek. “You really like me? Give that ice cream back.” He moves his hand to your side, his fingertips dancing over your skin as he looks at with a glint in his eyes. He adores you. 

You giggle, going to grab his hand as it threatens to tickle you. “Correction! I really love you.”

“Hm, you better.” Harry nudges his nose against your cheek, pulling you impossibly closer to him. You laugh, and he takes your chin, giving you a kiss. “Cause I really love you too.”

_______________________________________________

Taglist:-- @livypops12352568 @harrydeary, @harryswifee, @harrysbxtchh, @gracelovesethan, @kiwitsayedsugar, @angeldavis777 (Lemme know if you wanna be added to the taglist!)

[incorrectmarvelquotesss]

I absolutely love how you write Jason which is why I wanted to ask if you could write this (if not that’s all good), but I’m sick with the flu and was hoping u could write Jason looking after sick reader? And maybe him cooking her her comfort meal (like I’m from Europe so if he cooked a traditional European meal). Ik it’s rlly projecting but if u could write it that would be great :)

— honey and cherries —

Warnings: flu/cold/sickness, fluff

A/N: Thank you so much! I really hope this reaches your expectations! And I’m sorry it took so long.

The morning unfolded with a chill that seeped through the Gotham skyline, a lingering fog enveloping the air like a shroud of damp cotton. Shades of red and orange painted the sky as the sun rose, casting a honey-like glow that warmed the quiet apartment. The recent rain lent a crispness to the air, carrying the scent of wet grass and mud. Inside, untouched patterns of light danced across surfaces, undisturbed by the faint rustling that emerged from one of the rooms.

Jason furrowed his brow as he noticed your emergence from the bedroom, blanket wrapped around your fuzzy red pajamas. The aroma of bittersweet coffee and sugary cinnamon rolls hung in the air, though your stuffy nose likely dulled their sweetness. Despite your state, you made your way to the kitchen island where Jason waited with a mug of steaming tea.

“G’morning,” you croaked, settling into a chair with a weary sigh.

He nudged the tea toward you. “Drink up.” His voice was gentle yet insistent, a hint of concern coloring his features. Taking a sip of his coffee, he observed your tired state, noting the slight tremble in your hand and the warmth radiating from your feverish body.

Over the past week, Jason had observed the gradual onset of your illness—from sneezes to throat-clearing, followed by coughs and now a runny nose. Concern etched lines on his face as he assessed your condition, knowing you were in no state for work. His eyes followed the trickle of sweat behind your ear. 

“Do you have a fever?” He already knew the answer, feeling the heat radiating from you as he gently placed a hand on your forehead. He moved his hand to your cheek, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb as if to help with the discomfort. His lips tugged at the corners. “Stay at home.”

“I have a shift at work,” you protested weakly between coughs. You grabbed a tissue to wipe your runny nose, glaring at Jason over it. 

“You’re sick,” he countered softly, a tilt of his head implying the futility of your argument. His thumb kept stroking your cheek. “Debbie will understand.”

Your glare softened as you conceded with a sniffle, reaching for another tissue. “Fine, I’ll stay home.” The blanket rustled as you adjusted it. 

“I’ll text Debbie for you,” Jason murmured, pressing his lips against your knuckles as he took your hands in his own. “You rest, okay?”

You looked between his bright green eyes, seemingly deciding your answer from how concerned he was. You nodded in agreement, letting his tense posture drop. 

Relieved that you had agreed to stay home, Jason moved around the kitchen, tidying up the remnants of his breakfast while keeping an eye on you. The sound of dishes clanking and water running from the tap filled the air, along with a few sniffles and coughs from you. He saw you look at your phone a few times so he quickly texted Debbie before you could. He fetched a fresh glass of water and your medications, placing them gently on the counter beside you.

“Here, take these,” he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of concern. “It’ll help with the fever.”

You eyed the pills warily, but after a moment’s hesitation, you swallowed them down with a sip of tea. Jason watched you closely, noting your fatigue and the way your shoulders sagged with exhaustion.

“Do you need anything else?” he asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to make sure you were comfortable.

You shook your head weakly, sinking deeper into the chair. “Just maybe some soup later,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I’ll make you some,” Jason promised, moving to the stove to prepare a pot of chicken noodle soup. The rhythmic clatter of utensils and the soothing aroma of simmering broth filled the kitchen as he worked.

Minutes passed in content silence, broken only by the occasional cough from you or the stirring of the soup. Jason glanced over at you from time to time, silently thankful that you were finally resting.

Once the soup was ready, he poured a steaming bowlful and brought it over to you, placing it gently on the island. “Here you go,” he said softly, pulling out a stool beside you.

You smiled weakly, grateful for his care. “Thank you,” you whispered, wrapping your hands around the warm bowl. 

Jason sat with you as you ate, occasionally reaching out to brush a stray hair from your face or offer you another sip of tea. Despite his own weariness, he remained attentive, determined to make you as comfortable as possible. After you had finished eating, he helped you settle back onto the couch, fetching an extra blanket to tuck around you.

“Try to get some rest,” he urged gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You nodded wearily, closing your eyes as exhaustion finally caught up with you. Jason sat nearby, watching over you as you slept, his own fatigue momentarily forgotten in the quiet comfort of your shared home. It had been a few busy nights for Red hood and the other Bats. He barely remembered the last time he was home without your chatter in the background.

He smiled fondly. He already missed your mindless rambles.

A few hours passed, the afternoon sunlight casting a warm glow through the curtains. Jason kept an eye on you while he went around the apartment and dusted, knowing that your routine. He carefully cleaned the mess he had made on the counters and then mopped the kitchen after brooming. Once he finished, he sat down beside you, gently moving your legs across his lap, with a book in his hand. 

You stirred awake, blinking sleepily as you registered Jason’s presence beside you. 

He smiled. “Hey,” he greeted softly, offering you a glass of water.

“Hey,” you replied hoarsely, accepting the water gratefully. “How long was I out?”

“Just a couple of hours,” Jason answered, his voice soothing. “I grabbed some cherry-flavored medication for you. It should help with the cough.” He nodded at the table in front of you and went back to his book as you fully woke up. 

You glanced at the small cup on the coffee table, noticing the bright red liquid inside. “Thanks,” you murmured, reaching for it and taking a cautious sip. The sweet cherry taste was a relief compared to the bitter pills earlier.

Jason watched you closely, concern etched on his face. “Feeling any better?”

You nodded slightly, a faint smile playing on your lips. “A little. Thanks to you.”

He returned the smile, his gaze warm. “Good. Just rest, okay? I’ll take care of everything.”

You nodded again, settling back against the cushions with a sigh. Jason remained by your side, his presence a comforting anchor as you drifted back to sleep.

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter Map Twenty-Seven

TW: medical stuff, talk of dying, nsfw

The next time you go to see Detective Washington Linda is there. She’s always there, bless, and you think that maybe she could use a change of scenery. “Would you like to get a coffee with me?”

She blinks up at you, as though the thought of being anywhere but by her husband’s side never even occurred to her. You sympathize, maybe even more now than a few days ago. You know that if Tom was in that bed…you would be losing your fucking mind. You try not to think about how real a possibility it could be, with the dangers of Tom’s job. Of how it could be not if, but when.

You need caffeine.

You go to the little café, Linda following a step behind you. You order a super sweet frappe drink that barely masquerades as coffee. She gets a latte.

“So…how is he doing?”

“Better,” she answers, looking into the frothed milk atop her coffee. “Stable, now, thank god. But…when he wakes up, we’re still going to have a long road ahead of us.”

“Yeah,” you acknowledge, understanding all too well. “But he’s strong. And you are too. I can tell. You’re going to make it.”

“We were going to leave LA, you know? That money they found in the car? We sold our house. We were going to start over in the Bahamas.”

“Well, maybe you can still do that? After he recovers? I’ve seen people recover from gunshots really well.” You hope you’re soothing her, instead of breaking her psyche down even more, but in truth you’ve never really thought you were good at this human connection stuff. 

Linda gives you the tiniest of smiles, and it warms you up more than the steaming cup in her hands. “You could be doing anything with your break…Why are you coming to see me?” 

“I don’t take breaks,” you say, leaning over with a smile like this is top secret highschool drama stuff. “Well, not usually.” 

She laughs in a huff. “Well, thank you.”

“I wanna be there for you,” you tell her truthfully, toying with the plastic, icy cup in your hands. “I think you could use a friend if I’m not mistaken?” 

“You’re right,” she nods, looking down into her own brew. “Although I’m sensing you need the company, too? After all, the only person I’ve seen you around here with is Ludlow.” 

Oh….Oh. 

Yeah, you suppose it makes sense that everyone knows by now. Tom is a little hard to miss, and you’ve been pinned to his side since the grocery store shootout. Every piece of you wants to defend him again—from the venomous way Linda says his name—dust off his badge and put him on the pedestal he deserves, but this isn’t about Tom…or you right now. “I’m… sorry,” you say, unsure of what else to provide. You bow to her grief, her anger, her pain, because sometimes that’s just what you have to do.

“Can you just tell me something?” She asks, her sorrow suddenly forefront.

“Of course, anything.”

“Tom…didn’t try and hurt him? Did he? He didn’t help the shooters?”

“Linda… No. Jesus, no. Tom, he…” you rub a hand over your face, forgetting that you’re wearing mascara to work because you feel this new sense of pride and confidence and beauty thanks to the subject of your current conversation. “He tried to help him, just like me. He did what he could. I swear to you.”

“And if he didn’t? Would you still be with him?”

For some reason, and it’s a reason you’ll have to do some soul searching about later on, you hesitate to answer that question. Because you’re not sure. Not sure if you would have blacklisted Ludlow for being involved with Washington’s near death, or comforted him about it—“you did what you had to.”

It’s scary, to give all of yourself when you…fuck it, when you love someone. Push morals and decencies and laws aside for a person. Lose yourself trying to justify their behaviors. You’ve been here, what? A dozen times? With friends, family, lovers. Thinking that if you could just see something in them, some redeemable quality, maybe that would erase all their copious horrible ones. 

So, would you? Defend Tom if he had tried to kill Linda’s husband? You answer with what you truly believe: 

“He wouldn’t. Maybe he would try and fight him. Break something, even. But he wouldn’t kill him, Linda. I know he wouldn’t.” 

She appraises you with something in her eyes that resembles trust, and it makes you wonder what you did to deserve it. “I believe you,” she says, confirming your suspicions about her expression. 

“Look. I know…our boys have had their differences. I know I don’t know the details. What I do know, is that Tom is determined to find the guys who shot your husband. He’s…all in on that.”

You’re surprised when Linda frowns at hearing this. “And what does the almighty Captain Wander think about that?”

Now you’re frowning too, because her skepticism maybe puts some things into perspective for you. You remember what Tom told you, about going around the official channels to get things done. “Honestly? I’m not sure it’s official. I just know Tom is on it like a missile. He’s not going to give up.”

Linda sighs, looking down into her coffee. “There’s a part of me that just wants to sweep all this under the rug and start over. But the other part of me?” She looks up at you, a fierce fire in her honey-brown eyes that makes you feel like you just stumbled on a lioness on the prowl. “The other part of me hopes Ludlow kills them all.” 

***

It’s a long, hard day. The weather is getting colder, although it’s hard to call outside cold right now, especially considering where you’re from, but dropping temps, no matter how insignificant Kansians think they may be, still come with colds and sepsis and lung troubles, even here in sweltering LA. 

It’s easier to get through the shift, though, because you’ve made a new friend, and she’s pretty damn cool. Linda is fierce, loyal, beautiful; you would envy her if it wasn’t for admiration getting in the way. Even better, you just seem to click with her so naturally, the vibes between you are immaculate—you feel like you’ve known her your whole life, and that’s really rare to have with someone. 

You chart with a smile for once, because you really hate charting more than anything else on God’s green earth, but take a pause when your phone vibrates in your pocket. 

Hey, baby, am I still picking you up at 1930, or you gonna be late? 

Your smile sharpens and spreads, warmth flaring up your bones like freshly plugged Christmas lights, at Tom’s message.

I can do seven thirty if you stop distracting me.

But I miss you :(

Oh my god. Now you’re blushing and giggling.

C’mon, you know you’ve been thinking about me all day.

Nope. Forgot your name, actually. Who is this, anyway? 

I think it’s time we give you that spanking.

I can take the bus home….

You know I will stop that bus with my lights and sirens on. 

Fuck u, handsome.

Maybe after I turn that little ass red. 

You roll your eyes, scoffing just as hard as clenching. This man is going to kill you. He’s so goddamn sexy it should be illegal. And he’s making all your dirty little fantasies come true while simultaneously making your heart melt. You shove your phone back into your pocket, determined to go back to work so you can actually get out at the time you’re supposed to, but it vibrates again. 

I’m very serious about pulling that bus over. Don’t even try it. 

Yes, officer. 

Good girl. 

What a dick. You’re absolutely head over heels for him. Asshole.

How the hell are you going to betray his trust and let Julian have his way with you? How are you not going to feel crippling guilt every time you look into those coffee brown eyes? How. Furthermore, is Julian going to want to keep doing this with you? Training you like you’re some sideshow pony? You grimace at the thought. 

It’s wonderful, how when you see Tom all those bad feelings seem to go away—especially since he picks you up in full uniform, those delicious glinting handcuffs strung proud to his belt. You bite your lip when you see him, and he kisses the sting away. 

“Working late?” You ask, shimmying your thumbs into his belt loops and pulling him closer. It’s been long, hard hours without him, and you missed him more than you want to admit. 

He presses you up against the wall, just like you want, and tucks stray, wild hairs behind your ears. “Had a residential disturbance,” he says, “let me make you dinner.” It’s beautiful, how such mundane things sound so sinfully promising through his voice. 

“You are dinner, Officer Ludlow.” Because God, you really have just been aching to lean into this cops and robbers fantasy that he started on that dark highway. All you’ve been able to think about is getting on your knees and undoing this uniform and sucking him empty.  

Fuck Julian, and your job, and everything else when he kisses you with a growl, hands cupping the back of your head and threading through your hair so he can get you closer. He either really likes this feral beast you’ve become, or really doesn’t like it judging by this lip splitting dance of tongue and teeth that leaves you gasping for breath. “Careful, baby, might have to lock you up and keep you all to myself.” 

You do love the sound of that. 

***

You ask Tom to take you somewhere…somewhere high and airy where you can look down on the city of Angels. The city you both protect, with shining colorful lights that fight valiantly against the dark night. Tom holds you in his arms, chin on your head, and you don’t mind that all the shiny bobbles on his uniform poke at you. You feel so safe, right here, even though you’re alone in the woodsy hills of LA, and it’s because he has you securely tucked between his biceps. 

“Something’s going on with you,” he says, kissing the top of your head. “I can tell, you know that?” 

The fine hairs along your spine lift, and you hide your face in his arm, trying with all your might not to start crying like a baby. 

“I’m just scared, of those guys trying to get rid of me…” it’s not a total lie, although it, surprisingly, between Julian’s clutches and Tom’s freedom, is the least of your worries. 

He pulls you closer. “Listen, baby, I’m gonna protect you. I know you’re not used to that, to someone having your back, but I do. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere…not even if you want me too.” 

You chuckle. “Yeah, I know.” 

“I think I should probably ask you out properly, but I’ve been a little nervous.”

Your chuckle turns to confused laughter, and you look up at his sheepish smile. “The unbreakable Tom Ludlow, nervous?” 

“Yeah, that you’re gonna tell me to go pound salt…again.” He tries to smile his way out of that statement, but his eyes droop and the corners of his mouth twitch with the effort of nonchalance. And you are a fucking asshole for trusting Julian and snubbing Tom—that’s all you really know for sure. 

“Will you go out with me?” 

His grin turns authentic, and it scares you how much lighter you feel now that he’s genuinely happy again. 

“Yeah,” he agrees on the soft crown of your hair.

[gilverrwrites]

*raises hand*

me! me! I am very interested in more wally west content! especially with dick/reader!! but also just wally cause powers alone can be put to use, like could you imagine??

like, I know there was the dick/reader/wally piece that showcased a bit of what wally could do with his powers, but not even oral focused alone. you could make a joke he only lasts a couple seconds but he also makes those seconds the best ones of your life.

Right! And let's be honest, you might only last a couple of seconds, but he can and will keep going.

18+ | MDNI

Just imagine the first time things get hot and heavy with him. Skirt hitched up as you straddle his thigh, his warm hands itching to grope at your ass or your tits but he's playing it safe, holding your hips as you make out.

And he's fun to make out with, unable to keep from grinning and laughing against your lips. Those bright green eyes gaze back at you with fucking reverence when you peek at him. Every time you brush against his crotch he grips you a little tighter, rolling his hips and moaning into your skin until you're riding his thigh. Rutting your hot, leaky cunt on his jeans, moaning and whining, and kissing his soft, smiling lips like your dear life depends on it.

Wally is having the time of his life. So much so that he barely registers when his bouncing leg begins to vibrate. Not until he finally grabs your ass to stop you from arching your back right off of him. He watches in awe as your whole body shudders in time with him. As your quiet purrs turn into loud, animalistic cries. As you go from 0 to 100 in less than 30 seconds, dissolving into mindless babbling, riding wave after wave of pleasure as you cum over and over, drenching his thigh with your juices until you're clutching his shirt and begging him to stop.

“No more, mercy, Wally, please!”

“Fuck, but that was so hot, cmon just one more?”

Or telling him you've never reached climax from penetration only. You’ve basically just handed him his new mission in life; fixing that.

The first chance he gets to put you on your back he takes it. Keeping your legs together, resting them on one of his shoulders so you can feel every inch, every pulse of his fingers as he buries them knuckle deep in your pretty pussy.

Even though you're already twitching around him, his eyes are fixed on your face. On the way your lashes flutter when he presses another digit between your hungry walls.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” he asks between an impish grin, watching as you sink your teeth into your bottom lips, barely holding back a moan as he grows closer to finding your sweet spot.

“Only a thou-” You're cut off by your own sob, cunt clenching around his fingers, greedily trying to suck him in deeper as red-hot tension begins to coil in your gut.

“Is that it?” He’s not expecting an answer, already thrusting in and out of you at an impossible, frantic pace. Hitting your g every time. “Feel good, baby?”

He knows your climax is coming before you do from the way your body subconsciously prepares for it. His dick throbs as he senses your muscles growing tight and tense, as your eyes struggle to stay fixed on him and your toes begin to curl. Your mindless, “yesyesyes” chanting is mouth-watering music to his ears.

An’ to top it all off, as he steers you over the edge, he curves his hand just right, ensuring the stream of release that gushes from your cunt does so in pornographic, squelching, arch. Not only is he the first to make you burst from penetration alone, but he made you squirt. He’ll be riding that high forever.

“Holy shit, we’ve gotta do that again!” You’re already twitching and cooing, watching him through heavy lids as he slides the tip of his cock between your soaked and sensitive folds. Even though you’ve made no objections he feels the need to praise and plead, still awed that he got so damn lucky. “You gonna let me fuck this perfect little pussy? Please, babe? I’ll love you forever.”

Plus, if any body keeps trophies, it’s this guy. You let this man take your panties off of you, and you’re never getting them back. He’s not subtle either, keeping them hooked over his headboard for you to see the next time he gets you between his sheets.

And this is all just the sex. Wally is a beaut with a 5⭐ personality to boot.

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Heartful Confessions

Summary: Logan confesses his feelings

Warnings: Fluff!

WC: 682

Read on Ao3!

--

It was a quiet evening in the cabin, nestled deep within the forest. The glow from the fireplace cast a warm, golden hue on the rustic furniture. You sat on the couch, your legs tucked beneath you, holding a mug of hot tea. Logan had gone out earlier, doing his usual brooding walk through the woods, but you knew he’d return soon. He always did.

The sound of the door creaking open caught your attention. Logan stepped in, his leather jacket still slightly damp from the evening dew. He gave you a gruff nod as he kicked off his boots, then went to the couch, sinking down beside you.

"Long walk?" you asked softly, resting your head on his shoulder. His warmth enveloped you immediately, and the familiar scent of pine and the faint hint of cigar smoke comforted you.

“Yeah,” he muttered, his voice gravelly. He gently took the mug from your hands, setting it on the coffee table. His rough hand came to rest on your knee, and he rubbed his thumb absently against your skin.

You let out a soft sigh, content to be there with him. With Logan, words weren’t always necessary. His presence alone calmed your mind and filled your heart with a sense of belonging.

But tonight, something felt different. Logan was quiet, even more so than usual, and though his hand was on your knee, his eyes were distant, lost in thought.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" you asked, lifting your head to look at him.

He let out a low grunt as if debating whether or not to answer. But then, after a beat, he finally spoke.

"I’ve lived a long time, darlin’," he began, his voice low. "Longer than anyone should. Seen a lot, done things I ain't proud of… Lost a lot of people along the way."

Your heart ached at his words. Logan carried the weight of his past like a heavy burden; sometimes, it seemed like it would crush him.

"But then you came along," he continued, his gaze finally meeting yours. His expression softened, the usual hardness in his eyes replaced with something tender, something you rarely saw.

You shifted closer to him, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Logan…”

He caught your hand in his and held it to his chest. “You’re different. You don’t make me feel like I’m some kind of monster… You make me feel human. Like maybe, after all this time, I can still find a bit of peace.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. Logan wasn’t one for grand declarations, and hearing him speak so openly sent a warmth flooding through your chest.

"You are my peace, Logan," you whispered, feeling the weight of your own emotions bubbling to the surface. "You're my home."

A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He leaned in, resting his forehead against yours. For a moment, the world outside ceased to exist, and all you could feel was the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your palm.

“You’re my missing puzzle piece,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Didn’t think I’d ever find it… but here you are.”

Tears welled up in your eyes at his words. Logan, with all his gruffness and rough edges, had finally opened up in a way you never expected.

“I love you,” you said softly, your voice trembling with emotion.

Logan’s hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer until his lips brushed against yours in a tender, lingering kiss. It wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was slow, sweet, and full of everything he couldn’t say.

When he finally pulled back, his thumb gently wiped away a stray tear that had slipped down your cheek. "I love you too, darlin’. More than I ever thought I could love anyone."

You smiled through your tears, leaning into his touch as he pressed another soft kiss to your forehead. In that moment, in the warmth of the fire and the comfort of Logan’s arms, you knew you’d found your forever.

--

tags!

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

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

LOGAN/WOLVERINE:  @winterslove1917

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

Storm

Ivy and Claudine Feelings fic. Might add Ivy & Diego interaction later but I’m posting it now.

The rain drums against the roof and windows incessantly.

Sometimes, rain drops fall into the room through a crack of a window Ivy didn’t bother to close. She’s never did close that window, she isn’t sure it could even be closed anymore, but she doesn’t mind. She doesn’t mind the rain or the wind, she barely even shivers anymore as another gust of wind breezes through the room and rattles the ancient windows and doors.

The house is complaining about the storm, as it always does. When she was little, Ivy actually imagined it gossiping about the weather, in posh English accent. So horrible today, isn’t it?

She doesn’t do that anymore. Now, she sits curled up with a book that’d make an Auradonian princess choke on her own spit, and clinks ice in her glass.

…Yes,it is slightly too cold for ice, but Ivy wants her whiskey on rocks, you know?

Besides, she likes how the glass burns at her fingertips, ever so contrasting to the alcohol itself.

She flips the page and sighs as she realises she hasn’t the faintest idea what she just read. Really, this thing can get so boring in some passages – she’ll need to get a new one from Dulcia.

She sighs again and stares at the blank wall instead, contemplating her life choices or whatever.

A movement catches her eye. Tight, jerky movement where nothing should be moving but the wind, where her girlfriend is supposed to be asleep.

She’s not asleep, she’s sitting up with her knees brought up to her chest, having drawn up her hands to her ears just now, and Ivy really should have noticed sooner.

She stares at the girl, sucking at her cheek as she tries to find words of comfort that she can actually say – not that she cares for the Isle societal norms all that much, but she <i>is</i> a Villain.

Claudine catches her staring.

„Ivy–“ she breathes out, lowering her hands to her lap – back to her crucifix.

„Ivy,“ she says again before abruptly clambering from the bed.

„What’s it, sweetheart?“ Ivy asks and lowers her feet to the floor just as the girl comes to a halt before her and sits on her heels in front of the loveseat. From here close, Ivy can see the tears shining in her eyes – if she had a heart, it’d break a little.

„He is mad at me,“ Claudine whispers, confesses, as she takes Ivy’s hand into hers, holding on desperately. Ivy lets her.

„Who is mad at you, love?“

„He,“ Claudine says with as much emphasis as she can, „He sends storms to punish sinners and purge the earth of those unworthy of His love. He is mad at me, Ivy.“

Now, Ivy is starting to understand – well, more than anything, she’s understanding how much she’d love to kill dear old Judge Frollo, if he wasn’t already dead.

She’d make him suffer, for what he did to her.

But for the moment, she rises and takes Claudine with her, drawing her into a hug. Ivy can feel her trembling still, as she mutters: „Are you afraid of the storm, sweet thing?“

Claudine just nods mutely into her shoulder.

Ivy hums, just to fill the silence, and strokes her hair. Then she pulls away – just for a moment, just to grab her book again, for she never did put down her glass – and says: „Can you carry this for me? We’re gonna go somewhere where we can’t hear the storm.“

She waits for an answer, as patiently as she can, and Claudine takes the book, which is as good as it’s gonna get. Ivy kisses her cheek and leaves a mark, which she doesn’t care about, and offers her her arm as she leads the way through the labyrinth that is Hell Hall.

She navigates the dark halls she grew up in with ease, though, until they walk to a salon near the heart of the Vila. Much too close to her Auntie, in normal circumstances, but the storm doesn’t reach here.

Ivy stands down her glass now, and flickers her lighter few times before she lights the oil lamp by the sofa and the warm light shines around the room. She sinks into the pillows and waves Claudine over,  pulls her down, as she girl seems unwilling to do anything on her own accord.

„No one is mad at you, I promise,“ says Ivy, because it seems like the right thing to say.

She doesn’t know if she’s lying.

„I promise,“ she repeats anyway.

„But how can you know?“ whispers Claudine so quietly that Ivy can hear because she’s oh-so-close.

„I’m not mad at you,“ she says, as if that explained everything, which, really, it should.

„No one’s mad at you, you’re far too precious for that.“

She pulls away Claudine’s head a bit, just enough to kiss by the corner of her eye.

She can taste the salt of her tears.

„You think?“ Claudine breathes out. She’s not trembling anymore, not so tense, no. She’s almost relaxed in Ivy’s arms.

„Yeah.“

She lets her lie down, curled up next to her, and hopefully fall asleep now.

[the-kr8tor]

*trying to find an excuse to send an ask to my favourite creator but I technically have nothing to ask about and I think its incredibly awkward if I just write hi and nothing else also hi lovie what's popping*

-🍄

OMFG you're adorbs! Hello to you too, 🍄!! It's absolutely ok to just say hi! (I love it) I'm good, how are you?

[abyssmalice]

"Trick or treat!!" Tonia is, of course, going around with a little pumpkin-shaped basket today. "It's obligatory give me a treat before I throw toilet paper into your house day!"

[dutybcrne]

When Kaeya gives out hugs, they’re almost always a little too tight. If asked, he will answer it’s because he wants to test how sturdy they are or teasingly ask if his hugs are not to their liking and offer to never do them again. Really, he’s just microdosing on the sort of hug he craves without having to ask for it.

[sclepurpose]

Send me a🌻 and I'll tell you whatever the fuck I want.

@eyeknowmayhem // 🌻

" So, I never really told Megamind this, but I remember a lot from our planet -- at least, a lot more than he does. I was born a few years before him, around five Earth years, if I recall correctly.

From birth, I was pretty much taught how to be a caretaker. His species and my species were like humans and dogs -- although, we could communicate with each other very well, but that's beside the point.

One of my earliest memories is being about...two or three. Sir's mom, she was just pregnant with him. See, their species had a longer gestation period than humans, being around two years. My mother was her caretaker, and my father had been Sir's father's caretaker. Our families had been connected for quite a long time.

Sir's mother entered the room, and I was in my enclosure, a giant spherical tank of water. We had sand at the bottom -- though, it was a lot thicker than Earth sand, but it behaved quite the same. I was playing around in it, making it cloud up the water. She laughed when I said, in that obnoxious little toddler voice, ' I like sand, it's messy. ' She came up to the glass and summoned me over, lifting her shirt a bit and letting me see the baby in her belly -- at least, the bump. I saw it move, and man, I was the happiest fish on the planet at that point.

I told her I couldn't wait to meet my new best friend, and she said it would only be a little while longer. Of course, I didn't get to meet Sir officially until I was ready, she reminded me, and I only had a few years to go... "

He pauses, falling silent, suddenly listless eyes staring at a spot on the floor...before he shakes his thoughts clear. His eyes almost light back up.

" By the time I had a little bit left to go, the black hole showed up. And Megamind and I were put on the little craft his parents made, and that was the day I got to meet him...when everything else around us fell. "

[chrisbangs]

and fuck the hate anons 😤 you’re one of the best people on this site!!! No one loves bang chan as much as you!!! you are talented, showstopping, amazing, and things just wouldn’t be the same without you!! Keep being you!! :D

[jooyeone]

@ the rose anon 🌹

[silverskyeline]

'messy' 18+

oneshot (request) - logan learns that you can squirt, he indulges in that information (1.8k words) pairing - logan howlett (xmen) x f!reader tags - established relationship, fingering, petnames: babygirl, baby, good girl, praising, kind of overstimulation, squirting, lots of squirting, a little rough, he talks reader through it, wet mentions, reader orgasm, dirty talk, fingers in mouth, logan makes reader taste themselves.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

you're splayed out on his lap on the sofa just how he likes you to be, nestled on top of his plush, firm thighs. your knees are bent with your ankles resting over either side of his legs, your back flush with his warm chest, your whole body exposed, open, for him.

logan's thick, calloused fingers lazily stroke your clit, earning soft mewls from your lips as your head tilts back over his shoulder. his other hand is ensuring his middle finger pumps in and out of you at a slow pace, your body craving those broad digits stretching your tight walls.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

you're moaning, gripping his arm for dear life as you squirm in his lap, rolling your hips instinctively. it was beautiful, the way he could make you sing for him, the way he could make your body move for him with just a few simple strokes, almost like a puppet, pulling your strings. he would never consider himself your 'master', but god, you'd let him control you whenever he liked.

he smirks, nuzzling his fuzzy beard into the side of your cheek, his lips finding their place at your ear, "that feel good, baby girl?" logan asks, his voice a deep purr. he already knows the answer.

you gasp at his low-toned voice, gruff like gravel but sweet like honey, "yes. . ."

"mh, that's what i thought. . . think you can take a little more though." he huffs, slipping another finger inside.

your walls clench around the sudden new presence and you moan, loudly, craving the feeling of being filled by him in whatever capacity he's willing to give.

"that's it," he coos, picking up the pace, "good girl, gooood girl. . ." logan loves how easily he can slip inside of you, how he'd always find you dripping, cunt aching, core throbbing for him. his sensitive ears perk up at the sweet sounds of your wet pussy taking his fingers in, the wet schlick sounds filling the room.

your cheeks flush, looking down at the way his fingers are making light work of you, your shirt hiked up to expose your breasts. with the pace increasing, and the way he's so sweetly purring filthy words into your ear. . . you feel a sensation start to build.

it's. . . new, almost uncomfortable but not quite. not the same as an orgasm but almost. it pools low in your belly, just a little out of reach.

but his fingers pick up again, slamming deep inside of you, curling just enough. his fingers circling your clit remain slow in contrast, creating a dizzying combination of sensations that have you clenching around him and calling out his name over and over in some desperate plea. desperation for him to continue, for the building feeling, for him, full stop.

the feeling returns. fuck, it almost feels like you need to piss. your cheeks flush, eyes rolling back as you fight back the feeling, but he's rubbing you and touching you and fucking you too good for you to hold anything back.

"logan," you gasp, arching your back, "l-logan wait-"

but it's too late, before he even has the chance to slow down, you squirt. your juices coat his hands, his fingers, dripping down along his arm and onto the sofa below earning a gasp from both of you.

his eyes widen, stopping his movements immediately causing you to whine at the sudden lack of friction.

then there's silence, save for the lewd wet dripping from the sofa onto the hardwood floor.

your head is reeling, did. . . did you just squirt? fuck, you'd never done that before. heart pounding, you swallow hard, instinctively wanting to apologise for the mess, "shit, sorry i-"

"holy fuck. . ." he whispers shakily before you even have the chance to finish your sentence, "where were you hidin' that from me?" you can hear the smirk in his voice clear as day as he talks into your ear.

"what?" you whisper.

he smirks, kissing your ear, "you didn't tell me you could make cute little messes like that, baby."

"i didn't know i could. . ." you admit, biting your lip as you feel the cool air of the room brush against your dripping sensitive core.

logan's eyes widen, the implication of your words nestling deep in his brain, and groin. he was the first ever to make you squirt, the first to make you feel so good that you couldn't help but make a mess for him. pride swells in his chest, manifesting in a low rumbling smug chuckle at the back of his throat.

". . .think you could make another mess for me?" he hums, his fingers on your clit slowly resuming their movements.

you whimper, the new sensation you experienced was foreign but surprisingly welcomed. you had no idea it felt that good, that you could ever do that. but logan has a way of coaxing everything out of you, cock and fingers playing you like an instrument he's mastered.

"don't know. . ." you mumble, suddenly feeling skittish.

it's then that his fingers start fucking you again, gliding in and out easily, your fluttering hole welcoming the movement. "you can, i know you can." he encourages, nibbling at your ear, "you'll be a good girl, you'll make another mess for me, won't you?"

fuck, his words. his fucking words. every single time they had you acting crazy, letting out sounds you didn't know you could make. and he drinks them in, drinks up all those sweet little sounds from that pretty little mouth of yours that he loves so much.

you simply nod, feeling his digits pumping rougher, curling to find that sweet sweet spot once more. you're not sure if you can even do it again, but logan seems pretty fucking set on making him gush for you at least once more.

he scissors his fingers slightly, stretching you, the motion making you whine with pleasure. but when he pushes in a third finger? that's when you really start screaming for him.

"that's more like it, huh?" he grins, breathing deeply through his nose from how hard he's working you, "just needed a bit more, cus' i know you like it thick baby, don't you? like it thick like my cock?"

you want to gasp, to react to his words, but your eyes are rolling back again, mouth stuck open in an 'o' shape as you feel that sensation build once more. your body is tensing, thighs clenching, back arching, eyes squeezing shut. subconsciously you hold your breath as if that'll help. he's got you right where he wants you, right where he knows you want to be.

seconds later you're gushing, more this time - it lands on the hardwood below with a crude splash and coats his hands nicely. logan laughs, a deep dirty laugh as you writhe. he gives a gentle slap to your clit, then a firmer one, causing more to spill from you along with some squeaks.

"there we go, good girl, what a good girl. . ." you can hear the smirk in his voice, the wide grin he's wearing, the smugness lacing every word that leaves his lips, "feels good to make a mess for me, doesn't it?"

you're breathless, panting, overwhelmed in the best way. and then he speaks again.

". . . i think you can handle one more." logan purrs, movements suddenly fast and hard. his fingers fuck deep into you, curling to hit your g-spot with each calculated thrust. the fingers on your clit speed up, rubbing in practiced circles sending sparks of electricity throughout your body.

you want it too, you'd give it to him over and over again, create messes all night long if your body let you.

god you'd do anything for him, especially in that moment, and how could you not? the way his fingers play with you, toy with you, slide into you. . .

"d-don't know if i can!" you admit, huffing, trying to get more air.

but he shakes his head, "yes you can." is all he says, firmly.

and he's right. moments later you feel it pooling in your belly once more, the accompanying orgasm approaching that threatens to throw you overboard. you're lost in a sea of sensations, stars in your vision, his voice in your ear the only anchor you have to reality. you let it guide you, until you're drenching his fingers and jeans once more, voice ringing out within his bedroom as his voice coaxes and praises you softly.

his fingers on your clit come together to slap down against you, each smack against your sensitive bundle of nerves causing more to spray. you're making such a big mess, his jeans are damp. he doesn't care. this is what he wants, and fuck, if you don't feel the best you've ever felt in your entire life. . .

he keeps going, his fingers steadily pumping into you roughly, desperate to get every last drop as he feels you clamp down around his fingers. you're moaning, gasping, gripping onto his arm for dear life as you ride out your orgasm. it's too much, but it's also perfect. logan watches on in deep satisfaction as you writhe on his lap, his bulge pressing against you above him, cock twitching and rock hard just from touching you.

as your body relaxes, so do his movements, slowing down. he glides his fingers in a few times, enjoying the slick sounds they make before pulling them from your still-fluttering hole. he lazily drifts his damp digits along your tummy, leaving a trail of wetness up to your chest until it finds your mouth.

you part your lips gladly, turning your head to look up at him through hooded lids as you take his fingers in your mouth. diligently, your tongue laps at his fingers, reeling at the taste of yourself on him, dripping from him.

"good girl, you're always so fuckin' good for me. . ." he smiles, kissing your forehead as he watches you, his free hand resting on your tummy. you enjoy the feeling of his large palm against you, making you feel comforted whilst also grounding you after that whirlwind of release.

you pull his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop, instead kissing along his fingers and down across the sensitive skin of his knuckles. a silent thank you, for making you feel so good.

logan watches keenly, growling quietly at the stirring in his groin. his eyes flash with something. you'd call it mischief.

your eyes flit up to his, knowing what he's thinking before he's even said it.

"wonder what else you can do. . ." he smirks, "keeping any other secrets from me?" logan asks as he rolls his hips against you, prompting you to feel how hard he is for you and you exhale, relaxing back against him.

it was funny, how he could always push you right to the edge when you think you're spent.

and yet have you craving more. . .

you grin, biting your lip, "wanna find out?"

[satoruxx]

you're sweating when you wake up, skin sticking painfully to your bedsheets as your bleary eyes dart around, attempting to make focus of your surroundings. the room is still dark, barely touched by the slight bit of moonlight that attempts to peak through the closed windows—defiant. it takes a minute to realize that the sounds that are breaking the silence are actually coming from your own throat—breathy, wheezing gasps of terror.

your stomach drops when your fingers grip cold and empty fabric. he's gone he's gone he's go—

"what are you doing up, pretty?"

your head snaps to the doorway. satoru stands there, sweats hanging low on his hips even as his hand remains curled around a glass of water. his hair is tousled with sleep, but his cerulean eyes are sharp and lively.

as soon as he sees the panic lacing your expression, his eyes widen, long legs practically tripping over themselves as he stumbles towards you.

"what happened?" he asks sharply, frantically placing the cup on the bedside table to take your face into his palms. shades of blue dart back and forth across your features as he perches one knee on the mattress and peers down at you. "are you okay?"

his touch sends electricity through your veins—a splash of ice water pulling you away from that painful reverie.

your heart both clenches and soars, the idea of what you saw being terrifying, and yet finding out it wasn't true being that much more relieving.

"i just—" your voice comes out choked, and satoru's fingers twitch against your skin imperceptibly. "had a bad dream."

you think your brain must be cruel for conjuring up a dream in which satoru could suffer to such abhorrent extents.

"oh sweets." satoru's sigh is sympathetically soft, thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek just barely. "it was just a nightmare."

"i know," you swallow, voice shaking. there's an uncharacteristic wetness pooling at your waterline. "i-it just felt so real."

"baby..." satoru immediately pulls you against the steady planes of his chest, thick arms snaking around your waist to eliminate any measly amount of distance between you two. you prop your chin on his shoulder, sighing as you feel his snowy hair tickling at your cheek.

"it wasn't real, sweetheart," he says, pulling back just slightly to push a piece of hair from your face. his thumb then drags under your eyes, wiping away the unshed tears. "see. you're here, i'm here. everything's all good."

"yeah." you're nodding, unable to take your eyes off of him because he's real and alive and so breathtakingly perfect. "yeah, you're right."

he gives you a lopsided smile, eyes bright and glowing. "i don't like to brag, but i usually am."

you snort out a laugh, missing the way his expression turns pleased at the sound. "hilarious. you love to brag."

"you got me there," he shrugs, grinning as you stick your tongue out at him. the lighthearted banter solidifies the fact that satoru is fine and unharmed and completely yours, but you can still feel the apprehension coursing through your veins. chills run up your spine—you try not to show it.

but of course, satoru has always been able to see right through you.

his teasing smile goes soft, and he inhales deeply.

"was it about me?" he asks, climbing into bed next you. you lay back down carefully.

"yeah," you mumble, watching him tug the blankets over your body and tuck you both under a cocoon of warmth.

"hm." something in his tone tells you he's not unfamiliar with the feelings you seem to be experiencing—his body shifts closer to yours. ocean eyes carefully asses you, deep and calculating and so concerned even as he smoothes a warm palm over your shoulder blades. "wanna tell me what happened?"

the truth is you do want to, because satoru has always understood you better than you've ever understood yourself—you have no doubt he'd be able to comfort you just as well as he normally does.

and yet...

"no," you answer, pressing your nose into his neck. a deep breath in, the lively scent that is so inherently your gojo satoru filling your very soul. "it's okay. i think i'll be fine."

when you shut your eyes, images flash behind them—of bloodied bodies and stitches and swapped souls. yet a chaste kiss to your forehead pulls you back to where you're supposed to be, warm and grounding.

"i know you'll be fine," satoru murmurs, lips tickling your brow as he speaks. you think you can hear the gentle smile as he says it, and your grip on him tightens—never letting go. "i'm right here after all."