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#they are coming for you and your pantry
particlexxdealer · 8 months
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When you're the world's smallest hero, the best thing you can do...
is THINK BIG.
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stridersdiner · 1 year
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Rancher!Graves x gn!Reader
Quiet mornings with Phil.
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The ol' rambler house, on the ranch property.
For once, he sleeps in. Not by much, only just as the sky starts getting lighter. The sheets are crumpled over the both of you, legs tangled together and arms sprawled. He pulls you closer subconsciously as he slowly opens his eyes, grunting at the sight of one of the dogs staring up at him from your side of the bed.
He tries his best to slip out of bed without waking you, bless his heart, but it's difficult when he's just pulling himself off the mattress and you paw over his side, eyebrows furrowing when you don't feel him near.
"Sorry, sweetheart," he leans back down to kiss your forehead. "You can go back t' sleep if you want."
You pull at his shirt, trying your best to pull him back to sweet slumber, but his chest rumbles with quiet laughter.
"C'mon, baby, y'know I gotta get up." He runs a hand through your hair, thumb brushing over your cheek before his hand settles on the nape of your neck. "I'll make y' some tea, alright?"
He pulls away hesitantly, tucking you back under the blanket before he pads out of the room to brush his teeth. You drag yourself up eventually, clutching one of the brightly coloured throws around your shoulders as you make your way to the kitchen.
Phil can't help but smile as you waddle in, and he hugs you until the kettle starts whistling.
Mugs of tea and coffee in hand as you two sit on the big rocking chairs on the front porch. It's serene; gentle breeze brushing through the grass, birds chirping, dogs resting by their feet. He sighs, sinking back into the rocker as the sun pulls itself up from over the horizon.
He decides to take an easy day, making up his mind after making his rounds to check up on and feed the animals. The kitchen is warm, low hum of the radio as you work over the stove. He smiles as he kicks off his boots and pulls his gloves off in the mudroom, and he slips into the washroom to scrub his hands.
"Phil?" Called from the kitchen.
"Yes, puddin'?" He says, pulling himself around to the kitchen, wiping his hands on the thighs of his jeans.
You turn you head to look at him over your shoulder, and you smile at him. His heart melts.
"Made us some breakfast."
"Little late for that, ain't it?"
He slides up behind you, strong arms snaking around your waist and his nose burying in the crane of your neck while he watches you twirl the handle of the spatula in your hand.
"Better late than never."
"Thank you, angel."
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Babes that wanted to be tagged:
@mockerycrow @kivino
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myapathyhaspeaked · 3 months
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man some gender roles are just self fulfilling prophesies arent they?
(i am a white afab in america and can only speak for this perspective)
oh women are just naturally suited to domestic labor? guess we'll make our daughters cook and clean and take care of their little sisters while our sons take out the trash every once in a while. well wontcha look at that, the girls are so talented with the windex while our boys can barely remember to clean out the dryer lint. see ladies, this is why you ought to stay home and let the men work.
oh little girls are so much work, so demanding, just wait til their teenage years, i mean the rebellion and the boys! little boys are so much more easy going, even if they take a while to mature. and gosh, look at suzy, crying that she wants this dress and that toy because she's a child and doesnt know what money is yet, see she's such a brat, just keep telling her no and she'll learn to never ask for anything. oh timmy wants this bike? sure timmy, no need to cry, we'll take that dent in the budget, look how happy he is on it. emma don't get mad when your brothers bug you, they're not as mature as you. why dont you ever talk to us? why dont you respect us? what do you mean he harrassed a girl at school cus we never reprimanded him for breaking boundries and called him our handsome ladies man his whole life? no honey you cant have a boyfriend. sure son, go get her, oh look we placed him next to another baby but shes a girl look at them his little girlfriend. what do you mean youve been dating him in secret? wow, she's so timid and meek, never talks, so ladylike. and gosh he's so rambuctious, almost like he's never heard of a consequence.
oh little girls shouldnt play with science kits and medical toys, what little girls want to be scientists and doctors? boys dont want to play with dolls, give him an action figure or a toy car, and dont even let him look at pink. and wow, what do we see here? a huge imbalance in stem fields, the medical world, mechanics, and nerd culture. and men who will go up to the cashier and ask if there is "boy peptol bismol" because he doesnt want something pink.
girls care so much about their image, wonder if that has anything to do with mommy playing dress up with them and brushing their hair even when it hurts, screaming at them if they pull away cus they wont their little girl go out looking like a birds nest, and that society has deemed their looks as half of their value? boys are so into sports, wonder if that has anything to do with the fact that dad impressed his son into the little league team cus he used to be such a slugger it's in his blood, and that his dad always had his buddies come over and watch the game while mom brings him another beer?
time is a flat circle and society is an ouroboros that ceases to exist if the snake ever spits its own tail out.
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theinconveniencing · 2 years
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I miss my childhood house so much I would give anything to grab the knob at the end of the banister and jump from the third step and catch a million seconds of air while I whip myself around the banister and down the hall
#I also miss my treehouse and the pool table I would use for fashion shows and the smell of the “secret garden” under the stairs and#the way the house would settle and the planes overhead and that stain on the carpet from where I dropped an entire plate of mac n cheese#and the distinct smell of my mom’s closet and climbing down over the back bank and going to the entryway where the ceiling was two stories#high and throwing bouncy balls as hard as I could to get them to bounce off the ceiling and the rope swing in the backyard and eating#the buttercups that grew there bc I read once they were edible and the sound your nails made when they scratched across the counter and#using hot clue to peel off paint and make patterns on the workbench and the shed that smelled like gasoline and climbing the tree that#my dad installed handles into to make it easier and making umbrella forts and playing washing machine (spinning around and around in#circles with your arms out then falling to the floor and watching the room spin) and the mismatched rung on the banister from where#I broke it and the sound of the cat door and how the garage door was so heavy that it would slam if you didn’t prop it open and how the#smell of laundry would waft up into my room and how if you laid on the bathroom floor you could see a piece of the old yellow flower#wallpaper that my mom missed when she ripped it out and the sound of the sliding glass door that we could never quite get clean and#the sound that the bag full of bags would make when you opened the pantry door too far and how my neighbor always used to sing when#she brought her trash out late at night and the crunch sound the carpet would make when you walked on the edge and how raccoons would#always come to the back door and my cat would try to scare them away and being scared to go into my mom’s bathroom bc the shower#had been ripped out for years after my dad tried to power wash it so it left several gaping holes to the rest of the house but there were#spiders in there for all I knew or cared#carmen.txt
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faaun · 1 year
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i feel like i have rly strict boundaries w ppl eating my food but i feel like i shouldn't but i like . recovered from an ED and i hate having my food messed w / having less food than i thought but i feel like i shouldn't care/just get over it
#like imagine u rly care for smn but their house is kind of far so whenever u go there u stay for a few days#but they have nothing in their pantry to actually make a meal w except like. eggs and bread or smth#and they dont cook for u . but u cook for them all the time when they come over#and you are aware that due to this issue of like . never having food at their house they are often hungry#note : the food thing is less financial strain and more energy/they dont have the willpower to like. buy stuff to cook w ig ? but they also#dont order takeout so they just eat like. bread. and peanut butter. and eggs.#but anyway so ur like ok im gonna bring my own food this time so u do. they know abt ur ed thing. and u tell them youre hungry when#ur at their place so you brought this food for yourself. u are aware eggs and bread cut it for them and they feel full#but u are low on energy a lot bc ur not actually having a nutritionally balanced meal etc etc. anyway so as soon as u get ur food out they#start eating...ur food. and ur like . ok 😃 . like they dont rly ask they just grab a fork and they start eating#and ur like its fine theyre hungry they can have it . but u brought enough food for like a few days and now u have enough for like#1.5 days maybe. so u tell them..i feel like i miscommunicated but the food was...for me...sorry...but u feel HORRIBLE and guilty abt it#and then theyre like ok . and then they keep having ur food#and ur like#ok#:D anyway u made an extra bowl of the food and froze it for urself for when u get back home#bc u suspect u wouldnt have energy to cook . but u end up inviting them and they come along. and on the way#ur like i understand u were hungry but i made the food for myself so next time ig i can make 2 ppls worth of food so i wont have to like#worry abt skipping meals n stuff so much when im over at ur place . and theyre like. ok#and then u get homr. and then#they ask for that last bowl of the same food that u made for uself . and ur like 🫠 okkkk#obviously u give it to them but its like . oh my goddd pls just let me eat my own food i am HUNGRY TOO#and i made it for myself !!!!#but i dont want to be selfish and i rly rly dont want anyone to be hungry bc ik what it feels like and i hate HATE seeing ppl i love be#hungry but it feels like over this week theyve crossed this boundary like 3 times but its like#what if i fuck stuff up by telling them. theyre literally at ur place too w lots of ingredients u could have just made smth for them but#they chose that specific meal u made for urself for after u got back which is the same meal u made like 4 bowls of for when u were at their#place and its like . AUGHHSHDHDH
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sternbilder · 2 years
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the unspoken tenderness of having a particular way you like to show affection to others both noticed and quietly reciprocated back to you.................god
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slippery-minghus · 1 year
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whew. just spent what felt like forever packing one (1) very large box of kitchen things. doesn't feel like i did a lot, but it was just as much time and effort going through the shit and throwing out what i don't need as it was actually packing. so having only one box to "show for it" feels a little misleading lmao.
taking a short break now, and then one more spurt of packing before i call it quits for the day 💪
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fluoresentbulbs · 16 days
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Ant body pile
This is what you get for invading my house every damn summer
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harmcityherald · 2 months
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I cut my pony tail off.
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voulezloux · 4 months
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#proceed at your own risk i’m back again w/ more shit#had to text my therapist today bc i had like#come to the realization that i was craving the pain that i got when i used to sh#i’m not an active harm to myself i wouldn’t do it again and im not suicidal#but i just had this intense need to have the same pain i got when i sh’d#& scared my mom <3 & she told me to text my therapist <3#she told me to journal and idk how to fucking do that#so i have trauma workbooks coming in tomorrow as well as a copy of wreck this journal#i figured wrecking the journal would be the closest i can get to sh without actually doing it#idk my life fucking sucks rn and i want things to be fucking done i want to be future me not going through this#i feel like i’m being too dependent on bean for comfort and like that’s fucking dumb#i feel bad for just not being okay even tho i know it’s okay to not be okay especially rb#i also just knwo#that my dad is waiting for me to come back to him#hat in hand and tail between my legs to apologize for being mean to him :-(#bc obviously i’m the one who did everything wrong!#i hate being the 7 year old hiding in the pantry#i’ve been hiding in the pantry my whole life to make my dad comfortable#it also hurts to read back on the screenshots and see that my dad just doesn’t give a fuck about me#like i’m not purposely doing it but i have to remember detials when i talk about it to my mom#and it’s just a big ol reminder that my dad didn’t refute any part of my texts#that said i never felt like i was important to him or that i was an afterthought or i wasn’t a priority to him#like he cherry picked things he responded to#he focused on me calling my sister the favorite child and the park i chose instead of like#literally anything else#he apologized for making me feel like an afterthought but never told me that i wasn’t one to him which ig is nitpicky#but he never once in any of the messages tries to comfort me or reassure me that what i was saying wasn’t true#plus he threw in my face that HES been through trauma and he was just SHARING his childhood with his KIDS#like thanks dad! say it with your whole chest you don’t give a fuck about what you did to me! or the affect it’s had on me#he ‘didn’t want to trigger me’ but dude you fucking made things right with your EX WIFE and not your fucking SON
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miniimight · 5 months
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3AM sukuna underestimated just how much sleep he'd lose after having a kid (dad!sukuna x fem!reader)
the soft pitter patter of your baby's feet was enough to alert his senses. he didn't move—didn't even open his eyes—but his ears were tuned to the sound of your daughter's heavy breathing and the occasional babble.
he could hear her fiddle with the drawer handles, a soft rumble causing her to hum as she pulled the drawer out. a thud meant she bumped into it as she drew closer, messing around with the paper and cords inside.
he peeked one eye open. you were fast asleep beside him, and he was inclined to keep it that way. he didn't like to see his woman exhausted and seconds away from falling flat on her face because his little girl was, apparently, nocturnal.
"mama." she huffed as she finally turned her attention to the bed, fussing as she attempted to climb up.
he sighed. that was his cue.
he groaned as he rolled over, peering over your resting body at his daughter. she paused for a second, staring up at him with those shiny eyes that reminded him so much of you.
he raised an eyebrow.
she ignored his judgement and bounced in place, stretching her arms out to be picked up. "mama."
"mama's sleeping." he grumbled.
oh. oh, no. she didn't like that. she pouted, eyebrows furrowing in what seemed to be anger. her fingers curled into tiny fists and sukuna's lips twitched upwards in amusement. how adorable.
"mama." she said more adamantly.
he glared right back. "if you're coming back up here, you're gonna go to sleep."
whether she understood or not, she kept fussing to be picked up. he rolled his eyes and scooped her into his arms, rolling onto his back. baby was on his chest, leaning up so that she was sitting upright.
sukuna held onto her back, in case she toppled over and fell over like the bobblehead she was. "lie down."
"no." she chirped, looking out the window at the moon against the midnight blue.
"sleep."
"no."
he scrunched up his face. his life was much easier before she learned that word.
growing bored of the night sky, your baby rolled off sukuna's chest, scooting her way through the mess of sheets over to you. she glanced back at him as if to see if he was watching.
he gave her a look, observing her carefully. "don't you wake her up," he warned, propping his head up by his elbow.
her round eyes showed no trace of acknowledgment before she turned back to face you. there was a pause before her hand lifted in the air.
"okay." he sighed, catching the tiny hand in his before she slapped you awake. "come on."
she whined, writhing in his grip as he pulled her off the bed by the leg, dangling her in front of his face. "you really are little menace, aren't you?" he scoffed, flipping her over and holding her just like you taught him to.
she just babbled as her finger pulled at her mouth, the other hand resting on his shoulder.
he dragged his feet out the bedroom, into the kitchen. "what is it that you want, hm?" he rifled through the cupboards and pantry tiredly. "want a cookie?"
she squealed happily and pat his shoulder, a good enough answer for him to pull the package out. he dropped onto the couch, handing her one.
she nibbled on it, the chocolate staining her hands and mouth. he watched her fondly. to think he'd have a child of his own still confused him to this day. for all his wrongs, he must have done something right.
"wan' one?" she slurred, holding up the half-spit cookie to him.
"...no." he said plainly, though he did pick up a new cookie and took a bite out of it. might as well, he thought.
his eyes drooped until he felt his cookie being snatched out of his hand, replaced by the spitty cookie with most of its icing dug off.
"daddy take that one." she giggled, feasting upon her new cookie.
sukuna... what could he do? he ate that thing.
when you woke up the morning after, you just shook your head at the sight—your daughter resting on your husband's chest, cookie crumbs and chocolate smears all over the both of them. fast asleep. sugar coma.
you saved that picture for later <3
© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3
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You know how people sometimes get a cat by just having a random stray cat with no collar and no chip walk in and sit on the couch like "yo fucknuts I live here now", and the people just go "well fuck, guess I gotta go get a litterbox then."
Now consider: Humans doing that to the fae. Not being captured by the fae folk, not taken against their will but stubbornly walking in to their realm and refusing to leave before one of them agrees to take this damn creature. Faeries telling each other "naww come on, you can't make it leave, it already ate your food. Everyone knows you gotta keep them if you've fed them."
And another faery yells back "I did not fucking feed that thing, it climbed into my pantry and was eating flour straight out of the bag!"
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aayakashii · 1 month
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After a long time, I offer you the sequel to this fic here 🤲
Warnings: *BANGING POTS AND PANS* KUUYA IS A SUBMISSIVE PATHETIC LOSER YANDERE IF YOU DON'T LIKE MALE SUBS YOU MIGHT NOT LIKE THIS!!!! Also: NSFW and yandere themes from Kuuya and the reader; reader is gender neutral and AFAB; 9k words 💀
Kuuya is a @devotion-disorder OC and they gave me permission to write more abt their sad and wet cat <3 I hope you like it!!! The art below is theirs as well!
♡ cannibalism as a metaphor for love ♡
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The clock ticked a little bit past 6PM. You frowned as you watched the last rays of sun fade away in the sky, thinking about your house – how you could be wearing your comfortable pajamas, making some greasy popcorn while you watched a bad horror movie.
Instead, all that you had was that non-ergonomic chair, a coffee that had already gone cold and bitter and the glaring blue light of your computer burning your retinas.
You were working overtime.
It’s not a new concept for you per se, not in a black corporation such as the one you worked for. It’s just that on that specific day, it felt like everyone had left the building but you. Every cubicle was empty and the room was incredibly dim – it was anxiety inducing. You turned on as many lights as you could and put some background music to feel less isolated, but the setting simply didn’t help. You were locked in that little dystopian bubble all on your own and no amount of piled up work could make you concentrate properly when it felt like you were in purgatory.
Outside, a loud thunder made the window panes vibrate and you sighed.
“Fuck this” you murmured, getting up. You’d at least make some more coffee. Would you feel even more anxious? Yes. But you needed something to distract yourself with and brewing a new, actually sweetened pot of coffee would have to do.
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You briskly walked towards the break room, trying to avoid thinking about the oppressing darkness that surrounded you, staring at your feet. However, you soon slowed down – the door to the office kitchen was closed, and you could see the light was on from the crack under the door. 
Common sense would allow you to come to the conclusion that probably someone else was in the building with you, after all. 
But in that moment, all that blared in your mind were the sirens of dread. Your mind went from thinking that a serial killer was hiding in the pantry to imagining a deadly monster coming to whisk you away before you ever thought about some other colleague being in the building with you.
You crossed your fingers hoping it was just the (possibly hot) monster from another dimension coming to kidnap you and slowly opened the door, ready to run if needed.
Instead, you were met with the curved back and the mop of messy lilac hair of someone you knew oh too well.
“Kuuya?” you called, quietly.
“AH!” he flinched, crinkling the plastic cup he had in his hand and spinning around to look at you. The water he was pouring in his cup splashed on his button up shirt and he looked like a deer caught in headlights.
You raised your hands up, like you would do to a feral animal to show you mean no harm.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to spook you. I didn’t know there was someone else here. I thought I was alone.” you said, entering the room and feeling a little bit relieved to see another sign of life in that somber building.
Even if it was from your cute and creepy little stalker.
Kuuya hurriedly grabbed a napkin and began dabbing at his shirt, nodding silently and avoiding your eyes.
You sighed loudly as you began rummaging the kitchen’s cabinets for all the supplies you needed.
As much as you allowed yourself to indulge in your sick fantasies when it came to him, most of the time Kuuya just frustrated you. You wondered if he would ever try to talk to you. Hell, would he ever even look at you in your eyes for more than a second? It was maddening.
You knew he was far from innocent, no matter how reserved he acted around you. Didn't he literally follow you to your home just to jerk off in the bushes by your window? Where is all that courage when you're right next to him?
You wouldn't mind actually taking the initiative, but most of the time you honestly felt like you were crazy. Maybe you were so horny for that sad wet cat that you were hallucinating. 
Maybe he never went to your house and it was just the wishful thinking of your deeply, deeply perverted mind.
Maybe he actually wanted to run away from you whenever you were around, but you were just too insane so you kept imagining him fisting his cock just because you breathed near him.
Although they do say that insane people never think they're insane.
God! If only he gave you A DIRECT SIGN! A green light! Something that would let you know you can take charge!
No matter how adorable his bashfulness was, he still made you feel like you were kicking a baby animal whenever you addressed him directly. And honestly, that didn't really help his case.
“Are you… okay?” his quiet voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you noticed how you were crouching and staring at a dead empty cabinet for way longer than necessary. You closed the door and got up quickly, clearing your throat.
“We’re out of coffee.” you said, pulling your phone out of your pocket. “I'm gonna order something to eat. Is there anything you want?”
Kuuya was one step away from being malnourished, you noticed. You wouldn't mind putting some food inside that scrawny body.
“Um… No, it’s not necessary… I don’t really have… um… money…”
You waved your hand dismissively as you scrolled through a delivery app.
“That doesn’t matter. I’m paying.”
Kuuya shook his head frantically while waving his hands.
“N-no, I can’t accept that!”
You side-eyed him and he visibly flinched under your glare.
“Even if you don’t tell me what you want to eat, I’m gonna order something for us. We are quite literally stranded here, I’m not going to let you go hungry.” you shrugged.
He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. God, he was so cute. Why did he act like you would straight up kill him if he said something wrong, though? Were you that intimidating? Well, not intimidating enough to keep him from masturbating right by your bedroom and stealing your stuff, apparently.
“Also” you continued “It’s going to rain soon, apparently. I don't want to make some delivery guy go out in the rain to deliver us food once we’re actually hungry, so I'll just do it now.”
Kuuya opened and closed his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but nothing would come out. He looked like a little fish, you thought, as you waited for him to say something. When he didn’t after a whole minute, you just shrugged.
“Is chicken sandwich and fries okay with you?”
He nodded, hesitant yet still licking his lips unconsciously at the thought of some good actual food. You figured he was probably very hungry. In fact, you could picture it very clearly: Kuuya getting home and just eating the least nutritious instant noodles in the world, day after day. No wonder he looked so tired all the time. He was probably running low on fuel for way too long.
“Okay. So I’m gonna order those, and also some coffee and cookies. If I'm gonna stay here and be tortured by all the work I gotta do, I wanna at least have something tasty to console me.” you mumbled, more to yourself than anyone else.
And as you placed the order, you ended up missing the little lovestruck smile that quickly appeared on Kuuya’s face.
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You had gone back to your cubicle while you waited for your order. Knowing you weren't completely alone calmed your nerves and you managed to work properly for the time it took for your food to arrive.
Once you had all the bags in your hands, you walked back to the kitchen and the door was open just like you had left it. Kuuya was still there, sitting at the table, nursing a tepid cup of water.
“You didn't go back to your work station ?” you said, putting the multiple bags of food on the table, earning a startled yelp from him again. You raised an eyebrow and huffed out a laugh. “You're more skittish than I am.”
He pursed his lips into a thin line, avoiding your eyes.
“S-sorry…”
You shook your head.
“There's no reason to apologize. Here, the food arrived. Let's eat?”
He nodded, hurriedly getting up to help you set up plates and cups down, wobbling a little bit like he had to consciously think about how to walk properly.
You looked at him through the corner of your eye while he washed a few dishes. 
Kuuya always seemed like he was in distress. His shoulders looked tense like a violin string and there was always a little crease on his forehead. His eyebrows were almost always scrunched and raised up, giving him that kicked puppy look to his face that you found so endearing. It made you want to hold him in your arms and massage those little shoulders until they were soft under your fingers, and kiss those worry lines until he relaxed, even if just for a little while.
You clenched and unclenched your fingers, quickly busying yourself with putting the now clean plates on the table, otherwise you'd jump at him as soon as he looked at you with those pink doe eyes that you so deeply wished you could stare at for hours on end.
If only he wasn't so easily frightened.
Soon enough, everything was set on the table, ready for you to eat.
“Alright” you sat down and motioned vaguely towards the food “Dig in! Don’t be shy.”
Kuuya slowly sat down, eyeing the sandwiches like he had never seen food before in his life. Still, he kept his hands to himself and fidgeted on his chair.
“Is something wrong?”
“I- I feel like I should be paying for this. I promise I'll repay you once I get my next paycheck.” he mumbled, looking extremely embarrassed.
You tutted, shaking your head.
“Nonsense. You don't have to pay for anything. Now eat. It'll make me glad if you eat properly. That's how you can pay me back.”
He pouted for a moment, considering your words, then hesitantly grabbed the sandwich, giving it a nibble. His face lit up at the taste of the sandwich and his inhibitions then seemed to go down a little. He took a bigger bite, chewing happily. His chin was slightly smeared with sauce and you smiled.
So fucking cute.
As you ate, you noticed how he kept on shaking and nodding his head in order to move the long lilac bang that covered his right eye away from his mouth. After a few more moments just watching him struggle, you got up from your seat.
“Here, let me help you.” You reached inside your pockets and showed him a hair clip you always kept at hand. You reached out for his bangs, hovering your hand over his hair as if to ask for permission to put the clip on him.
He unceremoniously slapped his hands over his bangs and right eye, hard.
“N-no!” He yelled, sounding terrified.
You jumped, surprised at his uncharacteristic reaction, and raised your arms again, the second time that day.
“Okay, okay. Sorry, I won't touch it. You can put it on your hair if you'd like it, then. No pressure” you said, still offering the hair clip.
He slowly moved his hands away from his eye, shaking as he grabbed the clip from your palm. 
“O-okay…thank you and… sorry…” he mumbled, gripping the clip tightly inside his fist.
“It's no problem. Just… please pin it in a way that will keep your hair from touching your food” you grimaced “That's not really hygienic.”
He clumsily pinned his hair to his scalp, the bangs still completely covering his right eye, but somehow precariously pinned right over his ear. You gave him a nod of approval.
“I guess that's good enough.”
You two continued eating, a painfully awkward silence looming in the atmosphere, as the heavy rain that had threatened to fall all night finally pattered against the windows.
You figured you wouldn't try to break that silence, despite how uncomfortable it was. It was time for him to try and communicate with you too, and if he didnt, well. You wouldn't spread yourself thin just to receive a few nods and indiscernible  mumbles, no matter how adorable he was whenever he was flustered.
Kuuya politely thanked you for the food as he finished eating, right at the same time as you. He pushed his chair, the grating sound against the floor making the both of you flinch. He straightened himself up, as much as his hunched back would allow him to, and cleared his throat.
“I, uh. I have to go to the bathroom. I'll- I'll clean everything up, so you can leave it there. I'll be right- I'll be right back.” He stuttered, eyes flitting everywhere around the corners of the kitchen, except to you. He was tightly grabbing his elbow with his other hand, until he visibly relaxed when you nodded at his words, like he needed your permission, and scrambled out of the room.
You waited a minute or two after he left, before getting up and quickly walking towards the men's bathroom as well.
Yeah, right. Sure. Bathroom.
You might not have known Kuuya that well yet, but you knew one little thing: he was a terrible liar.
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You opened the door to the bathroom as quietly as you could, hoping it wouldn't creak and possibly rat you out. When you managed to close it behind you without a sound, you exhaled a breath you didn't even know you were holding.
Stepping slowly and carefully, you walked towards the bathroom stalls and stood still for a second.
Yeah. There it was.
Your mouth quirked up into a pleased smile when you heard the sound of heavy breathing coming from a stall to your left. Gasps and choked out little moans reached your ears and went straight into your core.
Kuuya was jerking off in that bathroom stall.
You licked your lips and kept moving slowly, much like a predator trying not to be seen. You slotted yourself into the stall right beside him and crouched on top of the toilet, effectively hiding your feet from him in case he looked down.
But from the sounds coming out of his stall, he was already way too cumbrained to notice anything around him.
You could hear the sounds of his hand rubbing his cock mercilessly as he groaned, probably a little louder than he should if he was trying to be subtle.
Your breathing became heavy.
You found yourself imagining his hand grabbing his shaft tightly, rubbing his thumb against the angry pink tip of his dick, smearing the beads of precum all over his length. His other hand would be lifting his shirt to pinch and pull at his nipple, eliciting those cute little gasps you kept hearing from where you were standing.
Begrudgingly, you undid your pants’ zipper and shoved your hand into your already leaking cunt.
His moans got louder, the lewd, wet sounds of him fucking his own hand going faster and you thought of how his cock would be twitching, balls heavy with cum tightening as a warning sign that he was about to come undone.
Your fingers circled your clit, eyes closed and mouth agape with a silent moan at how fucking hot he sounded and how filthy you felt for getting off to him without his consent – but it's not like he didn't do the same to you before.
A loud, shaky moan came out of him as he apparently came all over his own hand. You thought of how he would ride his own high, squeezing every last drop of his load out of his cock until the overstimulation would be too much and he'd halt his movements.
You heard him pant heavily, stopping your movements so he wouldn't hear the wet sounds of your pussy. You were so far away from your own high, but listening to his little mewls was more than worth the frustration.
Until he opened his mouth again to moan your name.
“I love you… I love you I love you I love you, fuckfuckfuck I love you so so much.. a-ah fuuuuck…” the sounds of him furiously jerking off reached your ears again and your eyes fluttered shut as you tried to control your breathing.
He kept moaning and whining your name over and over again, probably leaning against the stall's wall as everything began to shake in the same rhythm of his hips.
You bit your knuckle hard, trying to avoid making any sounds while you rubbed yourself, chasing your orgasm to the glorious sound of your pathetic stalker fucking himself silly in your workplace's bathroom.
His whiny, slutty voice sounded like honey, viscous and sweet – something that you would swallow eagerly, leaving your tongue heavy with his syrupy, nauseating taste. 
You bit your knuckle harder as you felt the frustration of chasing a release that would not come, because you desperately wanted to taste him; to glide your tongue over his skin and memorize the salty flavor of his sweat and the musky scent of his body. Anything else would not work for you anymore.
You could eat him whole, truly. You needed your hands and your stomach and your pussy to be full of him. Urgently.
You stopped toying with your clit, allowing the anger of not even having a sad, unsatisfying orgasm wash over your body.
Kuuya seemed to finish much quicker this time, your name in his lips loud as he came a second time.
You looked down and bit your lip, pulling your own hair in frustration – you could see a few drops of his cum drip onto the bathroom floor, pitifully wasted.
Closing your eyes, you forced yourself to breathe deeply and closed your eyes. 
First, you needed to get out of there without him noticing so he wouldn't have a mental breakdown and run away. And then, only after that, you could think of the next steps of your plan.
You allowed yourself to rest your head against the wall, waiting for him to clean himself up and leave.
It was so weird, this desperate attraction you had for Kuuya and how afraid you were of messing everything up. You had your previous crushes before, sure. But nothing was ever as strong as the desire you had to cradle that stupid man in your arms and keep him with you, safe. 
You knew things were different once you found out he was obsessed with you and it still didn't extinguish that little fire inside of your core.
Usually, you'd lose interest in people as soon as they began expressing interest in you as well – you knew it was wrong and you had brought it up during therapy sessions, but it never really bothered you.
Until Kuuya. 
When you confirmed your suspicions (that he was insanely obsessed and even went as far as stalking you) you felt a strange excitement bubble in your stomach – like you had achieved something.
It made you shiver in anticipation for those little moments in which your eyes would meet his and he'd blush furiously, or when you'd purposely brush your hand against his only to watch how he twitched and rubbed his thighs together.
You were addicted to him. You wanted him even more after finding out about his feelings, and that was new to you. That was something you weren't willing to let go.
And with that, came the fear that Kuuya might be just like you. What if he was an emotionally constipated mess like yourself? What if he lost all interest as soon as you gave him an opening? Just because he was different for you, didn't mean you'd be special to him, in the off case he had the same bad habits.
That was why you were so cautious, so slow in your movements. You didn't want him to run. You didn't want to lose the feeling of being reciprocated. You'd protect it the same way you'd protect a tiny flame against the whip of a merciless wind.
But after hearing him moan your name like a needy whore, you didn't think you could hold it in anymore.
Kuuya had already left for a good 5 minutes while you were lost in your thoughts.
You quickly cleaned yourself and walked towards the sinks to wash your hands. You looked at yourself in the mirror of the men's bathroom. Sweat stuck to your forehead and your face looked flush. You were out of breath and your heart beat fast and loud inside your ribcage.
You turned on the sink, splashing cold water against your face and, after you dried up, you stared at your reflection again.
Well. So Kuuya had loudly moaned your name as he fucked his own fist. And you had masturbated to the sounds of his gasps and mumbles of your name.
No matter how paranoid you were – you were very much sure you weren't fucking hallucinating any of that.
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“Walk me home?” you went to his desk after you finished the last of the details in your reports, fully intent on taking him with you to your home.
‘It’s now or never’, you thought to yourself.
“S-sorry?” he sputtered.
“Walk me home?" you repeated "The rain stopped, but it's kinda late. I don't want to walk alone. It's too dark.” 
He seemed to consider your request for way too long. Anxiety began bubbling in the pit of your stomach, and, for a moment, you thought it'd be better to just pretend you never asked anything, until he answered you.
“Okay… I can go with you.” he murmured, getting up and grabbing his shoulder bag.
You let out a breath of relief you didn't know you were holding, and smiled.
“Thank you, Kuuya!”
You didn't miss how he bit his lips and shivered at your words.
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The walk home was uneventful, as you expected. Kuuya walked by your side and insisted on staying on the road's side of the sidewalk. You praised him for being a gentleman and he became a blushing and stuttering mess, but besides that, he was quiet. 
You arrived at your door and Kuuya hovered right beside you, watching you fumble with your keys.
You weren't very good at hiding your anxiety after all.
Once the door opened, you stepped inside and held it for him.
“Come inside for a moment.” you murmured after clearing your throat.
You watched his throat bob up and down when he swallowed hard. He probably had many questions and, honestly, you couldn't blame him. You had no reason to invite him to your house.
At least not obvious reasons, that is.
He did as you told after a few seconds of hesitation, although he had confusion written all over his face.
“Why… why did you invite me in?” he finally asked while he watched you shrug off your coat and kick off your boots. You motioned for him to take off his shoes as well and leave them beside yours.
“Just something I gotta do.” you answered, observing him clumsily undo the knots on his shoes.
He cocked his head to the side, looking up at you.
“What?”
Once he was finished putting his shoes right beside yours, you beckoned him with your finger, and began walking deeper inside your house and towards your room, hoping he would follow.
He did, dumb shock plastered on his face, but still compliant.
You opened the door and motioned for him to enter. As soon as he was inside, you slammed the door behind you and locked it.
Kuuya's eyes were wide as he quickly turned to look at you. He seemed terrified, the poor thing, but this time you wouldn't back down. You couldn't.
“Shhh, it's okay. No need to be so scared” you shushed him as he opened his mouth, walking slowly towards him. You placed your hand on his chest and pushed him towards your bed.
When he plopped unceremoniously on the mattress, you looked at his pants.
He was already hard.
You smirked.
“Do you know why I brought you here?” you asked in a murmur while you leaned towards his trembling figure, wiping a few stray tears from his cheeks with your thumb and holding your weight over him with your other arm.
“N-no…?”
You cocked your head, actually surprised at his answer.
“Really? Are you really that clueless?” you traced his jaw with your finger, and he squirmed underneath you, rubbing his thighs together to get any friction on the bulge inside his pants.
“I…” he cleared his throat “I don't understand.”
“Well, I, for one, am not clueless you know.” your fingers traced the length of his neck, and you smiled when a few goosebumps pricked his skin.
He gulped.
“I know you jerked off to me earlier today.” you said flatly, with a sickening sweet voice while your finger now teased and rubbed his pebbled nipples through his shirt.
He gasped and you didn't know if it was from surprise or pleasure.
“I also know you followed me some weeks ago and jerked off in that bush outside my window.” you pointed to the window hidden behind your blinds and he followed your gaze, eyes watery and cheeks a bright red.
“And I know you steal my stuff and my trash so you can keep it.” he was still looking at your window when you palmed his bulge through his pants. He arched his back, moaning loudly, and you grinned maniacally at his reaction.
Pretty slut.
“Do you… D-do you think I'm disgusting?” he asked, shamelessly grinding his hips against your palm.
“Yeah, I do. I think you're disgusting and a creep.” he moaned at your words, but his eyes closed tightly, and a few more tears ran down his cheeks. He had a pained expression on his pretty face, like you had hurt his fragile feelings.
Apparently Kuuya knew how to tug on your heartstrings.
You moved your hand away from his pants, fully aware of the damp spot that had formed on the fabric.
“But so am I.” you completed and he opened his eyes wide, looking at you like you had just grown a second head.
“Seeing you so desperate and needy…” you shook your head in defeat “It does things to me, you know.”
“I-it does?” he asked, all doe eyed, blushing and hopeful. You sighed at the sight, trying to burn it forever into your brain.
“Mhm. Yeah. It makes me wanna eat you whole.”
Kuuya shuddered as you placed your hand back on his chest, gliding it towards his throat. You held his neck firmly for a second before you gently cupped his warm and reddened cheek. He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes like a cat.
“Will you let me, Kuuya?” you whispered.
“W-what?” He opened his still teary eyes, gazing at you expectantly.
“Will you let me eat you?”
A beat of silence went by and you almost felt the ugly head of shame peek into your mind, but then he nodded, a single tear falling onto your thumb.
“Y-yes.”
Like a thin thread snapping, you kneeled onto the ground and pulled his waist towards you, letting his legs hang limply on your sides. Your fingers trembled as you undid his belt buckle and you looked at him.
Kuuya was propping himself onto one of his elbows, his other hand covering his mouth as he watched you hastily take off his pants and boxers. His hard cock sprung free, leaking pathetically, and your mouth watered at the sight.
You were starving. 
It was time to eat.
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Kuuya felt like he was dreaming. Or maybe he died and his very own heaven (if he would even be allowed there) was having you suck his painfully hard cock.
He forced his eyes to stay open so he could watch you. The way your tongue swirled on his head and pressed mercilessly on his slit – you had barely put his cock inside your mouth and he already felt like he was melting.
He knew he was sounding pathetic. He whined and squirmed against your hands while you kept his thighs open. It was so good, it was feeling so good he was losing control of his body.
When you started bobbing your head, hollowing your cheeks to suck him harshly, he thought he would die. It had to be wrong, to feel this good. It was criminal.
Kuuya moaned like a whore and, deep inside, in the still conscious part of his mind, he wondered if you liked it. He hoped you did, he hoped his pathetic high pitched groans made you soak your panties because he couldn't control them.
Not when you were sucking him so good.
He bucked his hips against your mouth, the sound of your gag snapping him out of his daze for a moment so he could mumble a “sorry”, but then you moaned. 
You moaned and the vibrations of your throat went through his cock and he lost it, completely. He held your head firmly, thrusting frantically into your mouth as he repeated “'m sorry! 'm sorry! 'm sorry!” until the words lost all meaning to him. With a stutter, his hips bucked again and he spilled inside your mouth, his slurred words elongating into a pornographic moan.
You opened your mouth wide, relaxing your throat as soon as his cum began spurting, eagerly swallowing the salty taste of him while he rode his orgasm until he couldn't take the stimulation of your soft mouth anymore. 
As you dabbed the drops of cum that had spilled from your mouth, he suddenly wondered, in the back of his mind, if you already had any practice doing this kind of stuff. He panted, face warm and red, dick twitching while he looked at you wiping your mouth and licking your fingers. And he felt jealous at the thought.
He wanted to be the only one. He couldn't handle the thought of you touching anyone else like that. He hated it. Hated it. He had to be the only one you'd touch like that. God, he wished he could go back in time to prevent you from touching anyone else, just so you'd always be his alone.
A few angry tears pricked in the corner of his eyes and he tackled you to the ground, surprising you with a hug.
“K-kuuya?!” you squeaked, the air leaving your lungs went he laid all his weight on you.
Kuuya began rubbing his cheek against yours, sharing the sweat that stuck to his forehead with your face, making you grimace.
“W-what's wrong?” You asked in a murmur, after reciprocating his hug.
He whined wordlessly and began untangling himself from you, holding himself up by his trembling arms.
And, for a long moment, he just stared at you.
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You thought he looked beautiful. 
He wasn't exactly the most handsome man in the world, but to you, he looked angelic.
His lilac hair was disheveled and his face was flushed. His lips were a pretty red, as if he had bitten them too hard, and his eyes were half-lidded and clouded with lust and sheer adoration. It sent tingles down your spine. You wondered if anyone has ever looked at you like that, but you already knew that no one has ever held you in such high regard. It made your heart race and your core burn. 
You could sear the image of him under your eyelids and you would never tire of it.
He was gorgeous.
You tucked a strand of damp hair behind his ear and then cupped his cheek. Your thumb rubbed his skin gently and his eyes fluttered shut. He began leaning against your touch again, before he stopped himself and opened his eyes. You looked at him, puzzled, when he averted his gaze.
“U-um…” he began, after clearing his throat. You kept quiet, allowing for him to continue.
“C-can I… um. Can I eat you too?” He mumbled, closing his eyes tightly. You felt your face tingle at his words and his adorable embarrassment.
“Yes” you murmured and he opened his eyes wide “Yes, please.”
Kuuya quickly sat up on his knees, and looked around, apparently finally realizing you two were laying on the ground.
“Do you… want to move to the bed?” he asked bashfully, and you chuckled.
“Yes, it'd be more comfortable.”
He got up, holding out his hand to help you up as well. He didn't really have enough strength to pull you up, so you just held his hand tightly, not wanting to reject his help, as you gracelessly lifted yourself from the ground.
As soon as you were standing, you began pushing the waistband of your pants down, but Kuuya's hands quickly stopped you, holding you tightly. You widened your eyes as you looked at him.
“I… want to do that.” he said, bashfully.
Wow. Who would have thought he'd be so brazen for once.
You smiled, nodding, and laid on your bed, making yourself comfortable. 
You observed how Kuuya was already rock hard again and he had yet to touch you properly. He was insatiable for you and it made your pussy clench around nothing. 
He was going to be the death of you.
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Kuuya, in a sudden development, decided that it didn't matter what happened in the past. What happened, happened. All he needed to do was make you forget about it all.
He needed to be good. He needed to fuck you so good that you'd forget anyone you might have hooked up with in the past. He needed to make you addicted to his tongue, his fingers and his cock so you'd always go back to him for more.
Granted, he didn't know how he was going to do that since he was a literal virgin, but he hoped his enthusiasm would convince you to give him more chances, until he had mapped every little crevice of your body and all the little buttons that made you squirm.
Kuuya licked his lips, slowly pulling the hem of your pants down while he kneeled on your bed. The sight of your soaked panties made him gasp loud, and he had to grip the base of his cock tightly, hissing as he threw his head back. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down while he swallowed hard, concentrating on not allowing himself to cum.
He couldn't allow himself to cum untouched just by looking at your wet cunt. At least not in front of you. Not right there. He would, however, be filing this image inside the safest corners of his brain to become prime masturbation material later on, that's for sure.
He leaned in, warm and shaky breath hitting the damp spot on your panties. His tongue lolled out unconsciously and he licked a long stripe over the fabric of your underwear.
He was so sure he had died. That's the only possible answer for all the things happening right at that moment. Not only did you suck him, now he was tasting your pussy?
Oh god. He was tasting your pussy.
It was like something broke inside of him, allowing all of his obsession to spill over as soon as he pressed his tongue against you. He moaned loudly, ripping your underwear away only to grip it tightly in his hand as he, at last, dived into you.
He was going to keep it to himself as a prize. 
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Kuuya slurped and sucked and licked your wetness like a starved man. He wasn't focusing on the task at hand; instead, he was just getting drunk on your juices and your musk, moaning like someone who had just eaten the most delicious sweet. Oh he was so cute, all pussydrunk like that.
You hummed, gently holding a fistful of his hair as you grinded lightly against his eager tongue. You… probably weren't going to cum if he didn't suck you with a little bit more intent, but you figured you'd just let him enjoy himself for a bit more.
Just looking at his eyes rolling and hearing the sinful whimpers and grunts he was letting out was already doing something to you.
Soon enough, however, Kuuya seemed to discover that one little bundle of nerves. He gave it a few kitten licks before curling his lips against it to suck, and it was finally your turn to roll your eyes.
Your hand gripped his hair tighter and your back arched while he rolled his tongue against your clit; eyes wide when he realized he must have done something right.
One of his hands tentatively rubbed against your entrance and you cooed.
“Yes Kuuya, that's a good boy… Put one of your fingers inside me, baby”
He gasped against your pussy, the praise clearly making him lose his focus. A mean part of your brain thought about stuffing him with a butt plug just so you could make him wag a little tail whenever you praised him, but that would have to be an adventure for a later time.
He began pumping two fingers inside you, mouth going slack in awe once he heard the shlick of your wet cunt, and drool pooling at the side of his mouth.
He was so clueless and so, so cute. You couldn't help but think about actually making a mess of him.
“Kuuya” you said, not as a moan, but as a call. He stopped his motions for a second and looked at you – doe eyed, mouth and chin still glistening with your cum.
You licked your lips at the sight.
“I'll sit up a bit. I want you to lay down on the bed.” You said, as you shifted your position and rested your back against the headrest, making him crawl towards you to keep his head between your legs.
You watched as he slowly rested his body against the bed, a little yelp coming out of his lips when his hardened length pressed against the mattress.
“Good boy.” You praised him as you ran your knuckles on the sticky skin of his cheek and he whined.
“Now I want you to hump the bed while you eat me out.” you said, flatly.
Kuuya's eyes widened like saucers.
“W-what?” 
“You're hard, aren't you?” You ran your hand through his head, caressing his hair gently “I want you to fuck the bed while you eat me out. I want to watch you move your hips like a pretty slut. Can you do that for me?” 
He blinked, staying silent as you kept threading your fingers through his hair. The furious blush that spread through his face and neck was anything but unnoticeable.
“I can give you a pillow, if you'd rather hump it instead of the bed” you added, figuring he was probably already addicted to humping his own pillow like a dog in heat, so it wouldn't hurt to make him comfortable while he obeyed you.
“Y-yes… I would like a pillow then.” He whispered.
You mouthed an okay and gave him your favorite pillow – the one you usually hugged while sleeping. You wondered if he knew that. And by the way his eyes lit up when he saw the pillow, you figured he probably did.
“Take off your shirt? Please?” you asked him, after he positioned the pillow where he wanted it to be.
Kuuya pouted at your request, and as you were about to tell him he didn't need to do it if it made him uncomfortable, his trembling hands moved to unbutton his shirt slowly. You reached out to him, pausing his hands. He looked at you, sad puppy eyes glistening with tears.
“Do you want to take off your shirt? You don't have to if you don't want to.” you reassured him.
He sniffled, looking away.
“I-I don't mind.” he mumbled and you knew he was probably hiding his discomfort to please you and would never tell you the truth. 
Kuuya seemed thirsty for your approval in every little thing, to the detriment of himself. It made a little monster inside of you roar with the desperate need to keep him tucked away, safe with you, just like a dragon who hoards gold in a faraway cave.
Your thumb caressed his still trembling hands.
“Then just leave these buttons undone. You don't have to take it off.”
“But-”
“Kuuya.” You said his name firmly, making him flinch despite the gentle touch of your hand against his. You noticed how his cock twitched at that as well. “It's okay. Now please be a good boy.”
You went back to your position against the headrest and opened your legs, pussy still dripping and throbbing with the lack of attention. He gulped, licking his lips and nodded furiously.
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It was hard, coordinating his movements. All Kuuya had known his whole life was to jerk off or hump his pillow, but now he had to suck you, lick you, pump his fingers inside you AND hump your precious pillow. Not that he was complaining. He loved it. It was Heaven.
But he felt a bit self conscious about his abilities, or lack thereof.
Just like he was self conscious when you asked him to strip. He hated his body – he was so scrawny and weak-looking, he felt disgusting. What if you hated him? What if you wanted something else in a partner? He couldn't risk having you uninterested in him! Not when he got what he so desperately wanted!
Showing you his body would have to wait until he was either convinced you truly wanted him, or until he got you locked up in his apartment. The last option was the most tempting to him – having you shackled to his barred window would be a guarantee that you wouldn't run away after all.
But for now, all he could do was his best – all while suffocating you with his affections until you drowned in them.
The squelching sounds of your pussy as he pumped his fingers inside you were driving him insane.
Kuuya humped your pillow like a dumb dog in heat – his hips almost bounced against the bed with how hard and deep he was thrusting. He couldn't wait until he was balls deep inside your cunt, the leaky tip of his cock kissing your cervix until he filled you whole.
He felt dizzy. He half registered how loud his moans were; all he could think was about your cum all over his face and how he fucked your pillow, mean and fast.
“C-curl your fingers up, baby” you whined, pulling his hair, and this finally got his attention.
He acquiesced, because he was good. He was so good for you and he was going to learn everything you liked because no one else would ever touch your body ever again. 
Only him.
And he had to learn it all to keep you satisfied and happy, so you'd praise him and fuck the brains out of him as a reward. It was the perfect exchange! You'd be his and he'd be yours and nothing could ever keep his grubby hands away from you now.
He would do whatever you asked.
He felt a spongy texture against the pad of his fingers, and when you mewled, legs spasming around him, he knew he had found gold, somehow.
He halted the movement of his hips to focus on swirling his tongue against your clit and fingering your cunt at an insane speed. He would for sure be extremely sore the next day, but he only cared about your loud moans and how your thighs were squishing his head so tight and so good.
When you finally came, he groaned at the feeling of your cunt squeezing his fingers inside you, pulling them deeper inside with a vice grip, and the taste of your cum wetting his whole face. He reached his own peak at the thought of how HE was the one who made you curl your toes and soak your bed sheets like that.
And another proof that he was made for you was added into his mind.
But it was too fucking much. For the first time in his life, Kuuya felt drunk. He needed more or he would die. He needed more more more more.
Maybe more than you could even give.
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He didn't let you breathe at all.
As soon as your eyes fluttered open again, coming down from your high, he began crawling on top of you, panting like a feral dog. You watched as a sticky thread of his cum momentarily connected his dick to your now wet pillow and despite all that, he was still fucking hard. How was that even possible was beyond you, but you didn't have time to linger on those thoughts when he hovered over you.
“I wanna cum in you” he moaned, still moving his hips, humping your mound. His eyes were glazed over, like he wasn't all there with you, and his pupils were blown wide.
“I wanna cum in you” he repeated, panting, a little bit of drool spilling from the corner of his mouth “I need to cum in-inside you. I need to fill you up, please. Let me breed you? Please? I wanna be inside you and hnng- pump you full of my cum, please? Let me cum inside, please? Please please please let me breed you, please” he slurred nonstop, almost incoherently, while he frantically moved his hips like he couldn't control them.
He was so drunk with you that he was desperate and talking like he had never done before. 
It was pathetic. 
And so fucking hot.
“Shhh baby, it's okay” you cooed, petting his head to calm him down while your other hand squeezed his hip to try and still his movements “You can fuck me, it's okay. I'm not going anywhere.”
He whined, nodding his head and sniffling as a few tears ran down his cheeks, seemingly coming back to his senses a little bit.
“It's okay, love” you pulled his head towards you, cradling him on your chest. You kept on petting him, while your other hand softly scratched his back in order to calm him down.
Once his breathing was a little less erratic, you let him raise his chest again.
“You okay?” you murmured.
He nodded, rubbing his eyes. Then he looked down at his cock and back at you. You chuckled. He really was insatiable.
You threw your arms around his neck, eyes half-lidded.
“Then go on and fill me up” you murmured against his ear, enjoying the shiver that went down his spine.
You didn't need to ask twice.
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Kuuya was so nervous.
He was about to be inside his love! He was about to fill them up with his cum, but the thought itself was already throwing him to the edge. He would have to do his best to not cum once he felt your gummy walls squeeze his cock.
Easier said than done.
Kuuya threw his head back again, a guttural moan erupting from his chest as soon as he got the head past your entrance. He heaved loudly, focusing so hard on not spilling himself so soon, whimpering whenever your walls clenched around him.
“Y-you okay?” you asked breathlessly and all he could do was nod with a pained expression on his face.
“It's okay, take it slow” you added, gently rubbing his thighs. 
You were an angel, truly. Only you would have so much patience with someone as pathetic as him. He had to fuck you good! He had to show you that you could depend on him! This way you would keep pampering him like he so desperately needed.
Through pure determination, Kuuya pushed himself further, moaning pornographically with every inch that went inside you. Once you had taken him down his hilt, he exhaled, shakily.
“T-there you go…” you groaned “Filling me up so much, my good boy.”
Kuuya whimpered. He was torn between asking you not to say those things so he wouldn't cum, and lapping up your praise like a parched man.
He began moving, slowly thrusting in and out of your wet cunt, and he felt like he was melting all over again. He was going to be just a puddle, with how good it felt. You clenched tightly around his length like you were trying to milk him dry and he realized that he was probably going to be addicted to this from then on – there was no going back.
His nails dug into the plush of your hips as he began pounding into you, fast and erratic, the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass and the wet noise of his cock being drenched in your juices were so dirty and he loved it. He couldn't help the “Ah! Ah! Ah!” he kept letting out to the rhythm of his thrusts.
You were just so good, so made for him, so his.
With a sudden movement, Kuuya hooked his arms under your legs and pushed you. He always saw that position in those porn videos, and he always wanted to do it to you. The mating press. He wanted to push himself inside you as far as he could and then fill you up with his jizz. Ah, just thinking about it made his cock twitch inside of you.
He wondered if you could feel his fast and loud heartbeat in your pussy, since his cock was so damn hard. It would be almost painful if it wasn't for your glorious wetness sucking him in so good and taking care of him.
You grabbed one of Kuuya's hand and brought it to your clit, urging him to draw little circles on it to bring you over that edge. He rubbed it quick and merciless, looking down at how your pussy was swallowing his cock, so wet that a ring of white had formed around its base as he fucked you, and how your clit also twitched under his fingers.
Not long after, you felt your abdomen tighten and your walls clench around him as you reached your orgasm, arching your back while you desperately pushed his hand away from your clit to avoid overstimulation.
Watching you cum so hard because of his very own ministrations made Kuuya cross over that edge right away as well. With a high pitched moan, he spurted his load inside you – so much cum that it spilled down  to your bed and Kuuya mindlessly tried to push it back into you while he rode his high.
His chest was heaving and his eyes were glazed over, the look of pure adoration still visible in his pink orbs as he looked at you, sweaty and thoroughly fucked (by him! Not by a toy! Much less another man! Not ever again.)
He wanted more. He needed more. He felt like he could cum over and over again inside you and fuck you silly for hours on end.
But as he opened his dry mouth to say these words, a sudden tiredness took over his body and his eyelids got impossibly heavy.
Kuuya fell down into your arms, unconsciously snuggling your figure, his softening dick still inside you as he cuddled your body and placed kisses on your sticky skin. It wasn't long until his breathing became steady and sleep took over his body.
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You decided you'd let 5 or 10 minutes pass before you'd wake him up in order to drink some water, eat some protein bars and join you in the shower so you two could clean up.
But damn it, was he adorable while sleeping. He had a little pout on his bottom lip, but besides that, his face finally looked relaxed. The first time you've seen him like that in all those months you two have been coworkers.
Pride swelled in your chest as you thought about how you're the first one to ever see him like that.
The scared wet cat finally in your arms, ready for you to coddle, kiss, fuck, take care of and protect from any harm.
You unconsciously tightened your hold on him, feeling a wave of possessiveness so vile that it made you dizzy for a second.
It was a bit too much, what you seemed to feel for him. But you weren't willing to analyze that at that moment. He was right there in your arms, clutching you like you were his lifeline – and that was more than enough for you.
At least your anxiety and paranoia had been completely quelled. If he was so desperate to fuck you after you confessed you were a bit creepy for him as well, then maybe it was okay for you to be more upfront with your desires, just like he was.
Even though he truly would never guess he was being so obvious.
It was so cute, how he thought you really didn't know about anything he ever did. Not the stalking, nor the stealing. And not even the little thoughtful things he could straight up tell you because you'd genuinely appreciate them. 
However, regardless of him telling you or not, you just knew everything. Your poor little baby wasn't very subtle, after all.
Therefore, you very much knew Kuuya had stayed behind with you at work just because he knew you'd be there. He thought he was elusive, but you could pick up his intentions from miles and miles away. As soon as you first saw him idling alone in that kitchen, it all clicked perfectly in your head.
Kuuya was so silly and so dumb, sometimes. But it was okay because that made him so, so cute that you could eat him up.
Over and over and over again.
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sweetnans · 1 month
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Every time Bakugo goes to the grocery store, you send him with a list.
He has brains and, of course, a good memory, but it's your wife instinct that, after all, even when he's the number one heroe, he's a man.
It had happened before. He comes home full of bags in the back of his car, and when you're unpacking the bags, you realize that he forgot the salt and the bell peppers. Bakugo has exquisite taste, so that's very essential in your kitchen.
"Tsk, you don't need to write it down, I'm not an old man," he said, rolling the keys of his car in his index while you open and close the pantry trying to memorize what you don't have for the week.
"I know, but I don't want you to forget anything. With our schedule, we can't go to the groceries after work, " you say, writing down more things you'll need for the dinner you're hosting the upcoming weekend.
He knows you're right. You are always right.
When he walks on the aisles in the supermarket, he follows your list, doing a fast check on it every time he puts something in the cart.
He obviously adds the candies you like, your favorite chocolates, the new type of m&m's that you send him daily on tiktok and of course, even if he doesn't approve, a six pack of coca-cola (original flavour)
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drgnflyteabox · 2 months
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mdni - implied fat!reader x bluecollar!simon riley drabble - simon is a bit of a creep also lol
Bluecollar!Simon Riley whose house floods so he has to spend the next few days in a cheap, seedy motel
First morning there he's leaving for work just as the sun is rising. Its hot, humid, and he's a shitty mood because he'll be working all day and it's only gonna get hotter
Simon Riley who smokes a couple cigs before he goes, sitting on a plastic lawn chair on his concrete faux patio when he sees you
You're flustered, damp with sweat and skin sun-kissed. You've got a laundry basket on your hip and immediately he's imagining a baby there instead. His baby.
Simon Riley who's shameless about staring at you struggling with the laundry door, dropping your clothes and giving him a view of your wide hips and plush ass in very short pajama shorts
You're so flustered:(( nearly in tears while you pick everything up. The shorts are a little tight, a little worn, and the thin material gives him just enough of a view of your pussy that it sustains him the whole day :')
All he can imagine is coming back and sinking into you :') not even necessarily fucking right away, but keeping his cock warm and relieving the tension in his body. He deserves that, no?
He's not creeping, necessarily, when he takes note of the lotion you use. Vanilla. He just happened to be having a smoke and walking right by your window, where you've got one foot propped on a chair rubbing it into your skin.
Your room is tidy. Despite the stained walls, cracks in the ceiling and overall dingy-ness, you've managed to make it look cozy.
New sheets, a fluffy blanket, string lights strung across the wall. Beside you, lotions and creams and washes - he snorts a little to himself. The bathrooms here don't have any counter space or mirrors to set them down on.
But his house does. In fact, most of his shelves are empty everywhere. His pantry, his closets. The only thing he's got are work clothes and beers in the fridge. Maybe a stray heel of bread.
Simon Riley who decides he'll have you move in before he even talks to you, before he starts memorizing your schedule on the weekends and evenings he gets home. You're struggling, on the edge of homelessness, but he knows you'd be the perfect wife and mother. That you'd bring light and warmth to his house, fill those empty shelves and empty rooms...
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not-neverland06 · 29 days
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I don't know why I bite
Logan howlett x fem!reader
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a/n: Had Mitski’s ‘I Bet on Losing Dogs’ on a loop while writing this, now I’m sad Inspired by the isle of dogs quote “I’m not a violent dog, I don’t know why I bite” BECAUSE OUCH (they’re both toxic, fair warning) bittersweet ending Summary: You've tried for so long to get Logan to accept you the way he does the others. You want so desperately to be someone who means something to him. But he doesn't want you, maybe he never has. And you both seem to be stuck in this loop of hurting each other.
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You’re stability, security, but you’re never comfort. Try as you might, you just can’t get Logan to accept you. You want to. So desperately, you want to be something good for him. But he hates you, or at the very least, he can’t stand you. 
You don’t know what it is about Jean that he craves, but you wish you could replicate it. You’re not your friend, though, you never will be. And it’s pathetic, trying to change yourself to make someone else happy. You’ve never done that before. Yet, there is something about Logan that you want so desperately to help. 
You clean his wounds, metaphorically because he’s never once needed anyone for that. You lift him up after a rough mission and you remind him that the team does need him. They do love him. They want him in that uniform beside them, even Scott. 
You have your suspicions that he doesn’t appreciate your efforts. He’s never outright said anything to you. But you can tell the novelty of your kindness is wearing off. He used to brush your efforts off with a simple look. 
But he’s begun to be mean, saying these little things that you can never completely call out. A lot of what he says is based in truth. “Do you ever stop talking?” No, you don’t. You like talking with your friends, like sharing stories, and laughing together. 
“Has anyone ever told you to fuck off?” Yes, and it hurt. And it continues to hurt. “Why don’t you just shut up for once?” You can’t. You can’t because if you stop talking, if you stop distracting yourself then you’ll actually feel everything. You can’t stop talking, you can’t stop taking care of others because you cannot take care of yourself. You’re incapable of it. 
You can’t say that he’s being rude or mean. He’s just being blunt, and gruff, that’s just how he is. That’s what everyone tells you. They tell you to just ignore when he’s being a dick because he doesn’t really mean it. That’s just what he does because he doesn’t know any other way. 
You shouldn’t have listened. You shouldn’t have placed so much faith in others. You should have just left him alone. Maybe then he wouldn’t have snapped, wouldn’t have said such cruel things to you. 
It broke you a little inside. Hearing what he really thought of you. Despite it all, despite the cruel words and harsh attitude, you had hope. You thought they were all right, that he just needed to warm up to you. And you so desperately just wanted to be something for him to lean on because you’ve never had that before and you know what it feels like to be so lonely. 
“Hey, Logan.” You step into the kitchen, rooting around in the fridge for something to snack on. “Weren’t there apples in here?” You’re talking aloud, but it’s meant for yourself. 
It’s that moment that it all finally comes crashing down. This pathetic illusion that he wants anything to do with you or your friendship. It almost makes you laugh, that this mundane moment is when you feel your heart shatter in your chest. When you get so sick to your stomach your bones ache and your limbs tingle with this odd phantom pain. 
“Could you just shut up?” his voice is low as he leans over the counter. His fingers spin idly around the neck of a beer bottle. You wonder how he managed to sneak it in here, Charles has banned alcohol. You watch the condensation collect on the cracks of his palm and shrug the pain off. 
You’re used to this. This is normal. “Right,” you squeeze past him and look in the pantry. “Sorry,” you whisper, if you speak any louder your voice will crack and that will just make everything worse. 
“You’re just always around, aren’t you?” You glance over your shoulder at him but you don’t respond. Deny it as much as he wants, you have gotten to know him. You recognize the tells. 
He’s had a bad day, he needs a way to get it out of his system. You just happened to walk into the kitchen at the wrong time. It could be anyone he snaps at, but today it’s you. Which seems to be happening more often. 
You do what you did when you were a kid, eyes forward, face flat. You keep yourself neutral, let yourself sink into that apathetic place so whatever he yells at you doesn’t hurt. “You tiptoe around me, act like I’m this wounded stray you need to fix.” 
Your brows pinch in confusion and you shake your head. Second mistake. You shouldn’t have walked into the kitchen in the first place. And you definitely shouldn’t have argued. “No, Logan, that’s not true-”
Although, maybe he has a point. You can’t fix yourself so you try and fix him. 
“I don’t know why they keep you around. You contribute nothing, you do nothing for any of us. We can’t even take you out on the field,” his voice begins to raise and you find yourself backing into the cabinets, hating the way this is beginning to make you feel. “You’re so fucking sensitive we can’t trust that you won’t just kill us all if something goes wrong! You don’t deserve a spot on this team!”
You jump back as he shouts at you, hip jamming into the corner of the island so hard you have to bite your lip so you don’t make a noise. Spit flies from the corners of his mouth, the ferocity of his voice and words are that strong. 
You take in a few quick breaths, blinking the sting out of your eyes and focusing on the wall behind him. “Get it through your thick fuckin’ skull,” he warns, his voice quieter now. “I don’t want you around. Leave me alone.”
You don’t cry, you can’t cry. You don’t speak because you’re afraid of what other cruelties that might provoke. Maybe you would understand all this if you’d been bugging him when he’d already made it clear he needed space. All you wanted was a fucking apple. 
You don’t feel much of anything as you slowly nod your head, not agreeing but appeasing. He watches you with something like surprise on his face. You don’t know that he’s wondering why you’re not saying anything back. 
It’s why he yells at you when he doesn’t know what to do. You can take it, you can put him in his place. But you’re not speaking and he doesn’t know why this time is so different. 
Finally, you turn on your heel and leave, footsteps soft as you retreat back to your room. Logan watches you go with an odd twisting feeling in his stomach. He didn’t think you could be pushed too far. You seem to always just have this endless patience. 
You treat him gently, even when the others get sick of the way he processes things. Today was hard, you just happened to be nearby. He didn’t mean half of what he said. He doesn’t know why he lashes out the way he does, he just doesn’t know what else to do. 
He doesn’t like it, contrary to what the others think. He doesn’t like hurting you or being mean to you. He doesn’t know what it is about you that provokes this side of him that no one else does. Maybe it’s because he’s afraid. He can’t say what he’s afraid of, he’s never been able to admit it to himself. 
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He’s yelled at you plenty of times before. You don’t know what it is about that one day that was so different. Normally, it doesn’t bother you. You’ll set him straight or give him space. But today, it was needless. You weren’t doing anything. 
You didn’t deserve to be lashed out like that, cornered and scared in the place you call home. 
It was unprovoked and maybe it finally made you see him for what he really is. A bully. It doesn’t make sense, how he can be so kind and caring to Marie. How he can help Jean and Ororo so sweetly, but can’t muster one kind fucking word for you. 
You don’t let yourself cry, even though you want to. Even though there’s a cloying, suffocating feeling clawing its way up the back of your throat. His room is on the same hall as yours and you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he made you cry. 
You, at the very least, finally stop asking yourself what you did wrong. Instead, you start to wonder what’s wrong with him. You get sick to your stomach, thinking about all the ways you cared for him. Remembering how much of yourself you gave up to make him happy. 
He was right about that, you are pathetic. He never deserved your help or your patience. You should never have offered him any grace. You’re embarrassed that you didn’t see it sooner. This isn’t a little boy pulling your pigtails because he likes you. This is a grown man who can’t regulate his emotions and decided you were the next best punching bag. 
You take in a few deep, shaky breaths and close your eyes until you’re forced to fall asleep. You don’t want to think or feel any of what just happened.
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Logan hovers in front of your doorway for ten minutes before he heads downstairs. He’s got a class to run, he doesn’t have time to wait for you to wake up, he reasons. He’ll find you later and apologize then. 
It didn’t take a genius to realize he had gone too far yesterday. Even if you could take his usual level of dickishness, you didn’t deserve it. He just didn’t know what to do around you. You made him confront so many different conflicting emotions. It’s like every time he looks at you his brain is being ripped in twenty different directions and he doesn’t know what to do. 
You’re so endlessly patient and gracious. It makes him realize he wants to be a better man and he can’t be. He resents you slightly for that. For having such a wonderful idea of what he could be, even though he knows he can never be that man.  
He doesn’t find you that day. He makes up enough excuses that he goes to bed promising himself he’ll apologize tomorrow. Which he never does. Because actually saying it would be an admittance that he knows what he did was wrong. And what does that make every other time he’s yelled at you? What does that make him?
It returns to the same cycle it always does. He waits a few days until things are cooled down and you’ll have already forgotten about it. He starts to feel overwhelmed and he goes to find you because you always know what to do. And if you don’t, then you provide an outlet. 
He spots the back of your head in the gardens. You’re with Jean and he expects the usual dirty look she gives him after you’ve both fought. Instead, she smiles warmly at him and waves. Which is odd, usually you tell her about what’s happened between the two of you and she holds the grudge longer than you do. 
You glance over your shoulder, a small smile on your lips, to see who she’s waving at. Logan sees the way it falls when you see him and his steps falter. You never do that, you always look so happy to see him. 
“Jean,” he greets curtly, eyes on you. 
She says hello and they both look to you. Normally, you would have already spoken. But you don’t, you turn your eyes to the kids. Jean frowns and turns back to him, “Everything alright, Logan?” 
He can’t take his eyes off of you. You read his moods, and know them better than he does. You should have already offered to talk. Maybe he really does need to apologize. The thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth. 
He says your name and your brows just barely raise in question, though you couldn’t seem less interested. “Need to talk to you.”
You shrug, “Sorry, can’t. I’ve got a meeting to get to.” You brush past him and walk back into the mansion. He and Jean both watch you go, each of them shocked by how dismissive you were. That’s never happened before. 
“What the fuck did you do?” Jean demands, the smile gone from her face and her tone deadly. She glares at him, clearly expecting an answer. But he doesn’t have one. Because this is something he’s done a million times and this has never happened. He doesn’t know what’s gone wrong. 
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He thought your absence would be a relief. After a few more days he begins to realize that he was wrong. He thought that not having someone constantly badgering him to be better and set good examples for the kids would be a relief. 
There’s no one nagging him. No one forcibly checking on him after a mission when he doesn’t need it. No one to care. 
There are chunks of his day that you would normally fill that now seem to drag on. Lunches are quiet without you constantly rambling about nothing in his ear. When there’s friction among the team and they’re ganging up on him, you remain silent. He supposes he should be grateful. 
You finally listened to him for once. But he’s angry. He always seems to be angry and he doesn’t understand why. There is so much of his mind and life that was stolen from him. He wonders if he got any of it back if it would explain why he is the way he is. 
It doesn’t matter because it wouldn’t fix what he can’t undo. He sees you with the others constantly. You’re always laughing, always happy. Like nothing’s happened. Like you haven’t cut him out of your life completely. And then, when you’re around him, it’s like a switch is flipped. 
You’re irritatingly silent. Practically a brick wall. He pokes and he prods, using every weapon in his arsenal to try and provoke a reaction from you. But you give him nothing. 
There is an ache in his chest when he sees the way your smile drops when he walks into a room. He doesn’t understand the feeling. This is exactly what he wanted. To be left alone. 
It feels so wrong. 
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It happens in the kitchen again. Odd, that that’s become such an important place to you. 
Your back is to the entrance and you’re busy slicing up some fruit for yourself. You don’t hear him come in. Not until he speaks. “I’m-” you jump at the sound of his voice. Whirling around with a shocked look on your face. 
He chuckles a little at the reaction but when you don’t smile he stops. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out. It sounds semi genuine. But it also sounds like it hurt him to say. “I’m sorry, so can you please just stop ignoring me?”
You shrug and go back to cutting up the fruit. “I’m not ignoring you.”
“No?” He demands. “Then why don’t you talk to me? Why don’t we eat lunch together anymore? You can’t even fucking look at me.”
You slam the knife down on the cutting board, taking in a deep breath so you don’t do something you regret. Your nails dig into your palms, trying to center yourself. “I’m doing exactly what you wanted,” you utter, voice low. 
You turn just enough to make eye contact. “I’m leaving you the fuck alone. That’s what you wanted right? I don’t think I could have misheard while you were screaming it at me.” You turn to leave, abandoning your fruit because you don’t have an appetite anymore. 
“I didn’t mean it,” he whispers before you can make it out of the kitchen. “I,” he stops and starts again, “I miss you. I’m not a mean person, I don’t know why I hurt you.”
You stare at him, face unflinching. You give him nothing and he knows it's what he deserves. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I’m not asking for it-”
“Good,” you cut him off with a disgusted sneer. “Because I’m not looking to hand it out. Especially not to you. You only want me because you miss what I do for you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness. You don’t deserve me.” You turn on your heel and walk away from him, unwilling to entertain any more conversation. 
This is what you’ve always done. When someone hurts you, really irrevocably hurts you, they’re gone. They’re gone from your life. From your mind. More importantly, your heart. You don’t have any obligations to entertain him or speak with him outside of professionalism. 
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You thought cutting him out of your life would hurt more. But it’s like you can breathe for the first time in months. You’re no longer striving to gain someone’s approval. You’re not chasing after something you’ll never catch. 
You can find happiness within yourself. Begin to do the things you would do for him, for you. It’s a relief. And a little sobering. Perhaps, in your mission to help him, you’d burdened him with the desires you had for yourself. 
You believe that you’re unfixable. You believe there are facets of yourself that are too dark to face. That you are undeserving of love and kindness. You recognized those things in Logan and tried to force on him what you’ve always wanted for yourself. 
It was wrong. A mutually toxic relationship that never would have made it far had anything actually happened between you two. You can’t paint yourself the victim and you never meant to. It’s why you didn’t tell anyone what happened between the two of you. 
They wonder, of course, why you no longer spend lunches together. Why you no longer rush to defend him when he doesn’t need the help. Why you don’t smile around him anymore. There are questions that you deflect. Saying, you just needed space from each other. 
Your harm was a silent one. Forcing him into a mold he was never going to fit in. Despite the claims of loneliness, you can see the way your absence benefits him. He’s calmer, less likely to yell when provoked. He just needed the space to find himself. Not to have someone try and make him something new. 
You feel an ache in your chest when you think about how differently things could have been had you just let him be. If you had let things happen between the two of you naturally then maybe you really could have been something great. 
A month goes by without speaking to each other. After that day in the kitchen, he seems to understand that there’s no putting back together what was broken. It was already cracked to start with, the break was inevitable. 
You warm slowly to him. Give him polite greetings when you see him. And he smiles at you sometimes, on the jet when Scott says something ridiculous, or just in passing. It’s nice, being a stranger to him. It’s comforting. 
“We need to stop meeting like this.”
You look up from the paperwork in front of you and give Logan a small smile. He’s hovering in the entrance to the kitchen and you know he’s waiting for your permission. “Hi,” you say softly.
He takes that as the go-ahead and walks in, heading for the fridge. You listen to him rummage around before he pulls out a beer. “Where do you hide those things?” You ask, and you almost bite your tongue. This is the most you’ve spoken to each other in a long time. It feels wrong to joke so easily. 
“Can’t tell you or Wheels is gonna stop me,” he grumbles. You just nod and turn your head back to your paperwork. It’s silent for a few minutes after that. He sits a little further down the island, nursing the beer while your pen scratches across the reports your students gave you. 
He clears his throat and you glance over at him from the corner of your eye. “I,” he starts but quickly closes his mouth. “Ah, forget it.”
Your brows pinch in confusion but you decide to leave it. You oddly don’t feel scared or anxious. You don’t worry that he’s going to snap at you if you provoke him. You choose not to because you’re not interested in engaging. 
You don’t really recognize the man before you. Maybe it’s because you never tried to get to know him before you tried changing him. It causes that familiar clenching feeling of guilt in your gut. 
You know if you gave him a chance things would be different. You could be friends, real friends. There’s a reason you latched so readily onto him. There’s a familiar pain in him that’s reflected back in you. 
You stand up, shuffling the papers into a neat stack and pushing your stool in. Logan straightens up as he watches you wash off your dishes and collect your items. Before you can make it out of the kitchen he’s standing from his chair. 
He stops in front of you, hand outstretched before him. “Logan,” he greets. 
You tilt your head in confusion, glancing between him and his hand before it finally clicks what he’s trying to do. Start over, reintroduce yourselves. Actually give each other chances to understand the other. 
This all started because you shared the same pain and you resented each other for it. But you could comfort each other instead. Be pillars of stability and strength in each other’s lives instead of trying to tear the other down so you don’t see yourself in them anymore. 
You were both too afraid to face who you truly are and it nearly destroyed you. But this is a stranger in front of you. You don’t know this man, but you think you’d like to. You give him your name and shake his hand firmly. “Nice to meet you,” you whisper, a slight joke to your tone. 
He holds on for a second longer than he should, the breath rushing out of him like he hadn’t thought you would accept. You smile softly at him before you pass by to go upstairs. His hand lingers on your, skin tingling under your touch until you can no longer hold on. 
You don’t know what it means for you, this odd new truce between the two of you. But you won’t linger on that tonight. You’ll go to bed feeling comforted that for the first time since you’ve met him, Logan has made you happy. 
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a/n: felt more like a diary entry than a fic, sorry lol
end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
General Taglist: @evasmlp
Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always ♡
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