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#they're gonna meet soon in
larkral · 1 year
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Hello! Thanks for the tags @forabeatofadrum , @you-remind-me-of-the-babe , @hushed-chorus , @youarenevertooold , @wellbelesbian , and @blackberrysummerblog , and everyone else who has been tagging me over the past couple of weeks!
Fun fact! I started drafting this for WIPsday and then got buried under work. This describes my whole week.
Anyway, I'm really focused on my Holsom Timeloop at this moment so I will take this chance to again encourage all of you to read Check Please so that I can coerce you into reading this fic when it's ready. I am TRULY unreasonably excited about it. And of course @petedavidsonscock is only encouraging me. :-P Some of that below the cut per usual because I know most of y'all are here for my Simon Snow.
I have also been writing in fits and starts on Simon's Two Mums AU. Finally I understand the meme where someone is letting their old WIP drown in the pool while they toss the new WIP in the air. Sorry Simon's Two Mums, I'll be back with you full-ish time soon.
I also signed up for @carryon-reverse-bang as a writer. So. I'm excited about that. A little anxious. But excited! (Does this count as a collaboration re: my goal of collaborating on something this year? Maybe...)
Some words from Simon's two mums:
"Unfortunately the kind of information you're looking for is taken for granted in every magical text we have in our library. In our world, I would venture. Not much use in a primer on something you can just ask your parents about."
I wonder how different an upbringing he had to mine. In my youth there was no topic I'd have asked my parents about if there were a book available on it.
I make affirmative noises regardless.
Holsom Timeloop, which at this point I should just reveal the title of, since it's set in stone, and is Friday Prime. And here are six sentences!
Justin surfaces from sleep to a hand on his back and Holster's voice.
"Hey, bro, mind if I snuggle up?"
"No, man, come on up."
Holster climbs up the ladder and nudges himself into Justin's belly. He's a few inches taller, so he usually takes on big spoon duties, but Justin doesn't mind. With Holster's shoulder under his chin and one of his calves twisting into Justin's, he feels almost more embraced than when he's wrapped up in Holster.
Tagging and Sunday hellos to everyone!! Would love to know what you're up to!! @stitchyqueer @thewholelemon @confused-bi-queer @raenestee @facewithoutheart @cutestkilla @sillyunicorn @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @basiltonbutliketheherb @ileadacharmedlife @asocialpessimist @bookish-bogwitch @aristocratic-otter @captain-aralias @artsyunderstudy @yeonjunenby @carryonvisinata @takenabackbytuesdays @martsonmars @nightimedreamersghost  @chen-chen-chen-again-chen  @ionlydrinkhotwater @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @shrekgogurt   @palimpsessed @fatalfangirl @valeffelees @imagineacoolusername @orange-peony @j-nipper-95 @whogaveyoupermission @rimeswithpurple
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dawnthefluffyduck · 3 months
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Sunday doodle (singular)
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asharaks · 7 months
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watching death
2k words
Distracted as he is — by his headache, by his bruises, by his navel-gazing sympathy — he doesn't see the child until they shout, and he startles back, hands raised in a soothing gesture as the little one props bony fists on their hips and fixes him with what he can only describe as a look. “You're that bloke,” they— he— asserts confidently. Wyll feels the smile distantly, a moment before it arrives.
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ghost-in-your-house · 2 years
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I'm reading Warrior Nun fanfiction, and all the post Season 1 ones are so tame. Beatrice is so conflicted because of her vows, everything remotely sexual is a huge struggle.... Meanwhile Season 2 in canon is like: they kissed once, Beatrice leaves the order the next day. Done!
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meltlilies · 6 months
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heywood, 2075.
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polkadotplayhouse · 5 months
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patpatpatpat... duz th book yu readin hav a audio book somwere? or a vidyo uv sumwun readin it??? thas kinda like a storybook... wud tha hewp??
:0! hai!! umm yeah, it probably does, but I gotta take notes on it, and that's what's bothering me :3 I'm gonna get it done of course! but I will NOT be happy about it >:P heehee! at least I've got my stuffies n my sippy n sunset here to sit with me until I finish!!!
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If I may posit, it's gotta be strange to see a version of you that made it to being 'old'. Obviously I'm biased towards my own interpretation of Comics Noir Pete, but he doesn't seem the sort to believe he'll last that long. - @canary-song
oh Definitely. Pete is gonna take one look at Noir and then immediately make fun of him to hide the fact that he's having an existential crisis. And now that I've got lots of spider-folk together I really should throw in some spider goddess weirdness... just a little bit. for funsies.
#a biscuit's rambles#asks#noir [handshake] hobie: convinced they're gonna die very soon + burning with anger so much they're just burning themselves out#this also raises interesting questions to Noir the older though#how would he react to seeing his younger self (angry and hopeless and desperate)?#how much has he grown as a person? how much emotional maturity?#he's obviously still a loose cannon who Will commit arson or straight up bite someone#but he's still come a long way#he can't say that things get better. he's lived during WW2. i don't remember rn if he canonically fought (i don't think so?) but he#still definitely lived through that time#he can say 'you'll survive' and 'i got a cat' and 'you'll learn to make things bearable' but it is Not getting better#he could get his own flat and become a private eye but he could never make the public see or permanently change things for the better#he can care for himself but he cannot care for anyone else and he can't keep innocent people safe. not really. not like he wants to#how do you explain to a teenager who's already lost more than everything that this is better? that this is worth living for?#that this is something worth taking care of himself for? that He is someone worth taking care of?#because how is Pete ever going to believe that? and besides since canon is bullshit. who knows if Pete won't turn out entirely differently?#now i'm having so many thoughts. it's almost 4am i can't have existential crises from two perspectives rn#i love that tho thanks for the ask :D#when multiverses meet au#wmm
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ervotica · 10 months
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please don’t go, i love you so
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pairing: young!coriolanus snow x reader
warnings: a lil toxic!coriolanus, he’s rough with r, possessive talk, quite tame in this but imma tamp it up soon, a bit of making out and being lovey
note: i do not careee about who likes this character or who doesn’t okay i am writing about him because he is literally one of the hottest men i’ve ever seen, kay? i’m not here for moral dilemmas thank u, enjoy (yes i will follow up w smut and my young!coriolanus snow reqs are OPEN!) please please remember to comment and rb, it helps me so much!
hunger games masterlist
Coriolanus is possessive.
It sickens him to his very core, sends nausea rolling like a wave through his chest; he’s not a child. Yet, the mere sight - thought - of you engaging with any other man, even innocently, is enough to have him seeing red: white-knuckled, muscles drawn taut like a bowstring, ready to eliminate any and all threat standing between him and his girl.
It's the way those boys look at you. As if you're a piece of meat, a toy to play with that they're just begging, aching to sink their teeth into, to leave a permanent mark on. The boys in this district are barbaric- that's what Coryo thinks anyway. It's disgusting, the things that he knows they think about you.
It's been a long day in District Twelve. Coriolanus' grey jumpsuit rubs and itches and his skin crawls with an uneasiness settled at the pit of his stomach. It's a warm day, his skin sticky as he peels the top half of the jumpsuit from his slender arms and ties it neatly around his waist. The grass by the lake is damp with the leftover dew from the morning.
He catches sight of you amongst the trees, weaving and bobbing through the undergrowth as you do, your lithe fingers brushing against leaves. Your head dips and then raises as his tall figure creeps into your peripheral vision. A smile graces your features, real and earnest with all your teeth.
There’s a slight waver in your countenance when you catch Coriolanus’ own expression; his brows are knit, pushing his forehead into a crease, lips pushed together tersely.
You walk straight into his arms, balancing yourself on one leg and pushing your shoulder underneath his armpit. You needle your way in, your forehead rested against his chin, so close you can feel his breath against your face.
“Hi, gorgeous,” you murmur. You reach up to push out the ridge in his brow and your thumb traces the bridge of his nose in a way that couldn’t be perceived as anything other than unbridled affection. “Something wrong?”
His slender fingers settle against your waist. You shiver at the contact when he spins and pushes you back into a tree. The bark digs into your back as you shuffle to meet his eyes— his eyes that have suddenly clouded with something dark and possessive.
“What is it?” you ask again; your voice is becoming more strained the longer he stays quiet, your own hands snaking up his arms like vines and squeezing.
He shakes his head and drops his face to look at you properly.
“Nothing. I have you.”
“Okay.” You click your tongue, tilting your head at him. His face gravitates towards yours, breath hot and mixing with your own. “You gonna kiss me or what, handsome?”
He doesn’t need any encouragement, surging forward to catch your lips between his own; his hands are rough, kneading the soft flesh of your hip. His other makes its way up to your jaw, fingertips pressing so hard you’re sure he’s branding you. You’ve never been kissed like this, with such fervour and passion and need. You gasp into his mouth and your arm wraps around his neck to pull him further into you.
“Coryo,” you pant.
“Shh,” he forces out, his fingers suddenly an iron grip around your neck; the hollow of your throat is bared to him and bobs under his cruel touch.
“Coriolanus, that hurts,” you say, strangled. His eyes are alight with a fire, a blazing inferno roaring in his head as he squeezes your throat and laughs.
You wheeze, clutching at his wrist in an attempt to loosen his grip. He obliges you, running a thumb over the indents he’s left in your soft skin to smooth them away.
“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” he asks. His head drops to the juncture of your neck, arms hooking loosely around your middle as he relaxes into you. “I just wanted to feel you. To know you’re mine.”
The incident is forgotten as soon as it ends. He has a charm in that sort of way; you don’t see his faults even when he shows them to you clear as day. You’ll never see what’s right in front of you even if he wants you to.
“Of course I’m yours, Coryo. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“The way they all look at you here…” He falters. “Like they all want you. Like they want to take you away from me. You’re mine- they have to understand that.”
“No one could take me away from you,” you giggle, your temple resting against the tip of his shoulder so you can duck your head to meet his eyes. “I know where I belong. And that’s right here with you.”
“Good.” He mouths at your neck like a man starved, arms coming right up until they’re hooked just underneath your own. He pulls away heaving for breath.
“Wanna show me just where you belong?”
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kurooh · 3 months
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I LOVE UR WORKK
ANYWAYS MY REQUEST IS
how mha guys are in bed when they're mad or jealous 😋 (please include shinso im begging 🙏)
-💕
JEALOUS, JEALOUS, JEALOUS BOY!
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☆ includes: midoriya izuku, bakugō katsuki, todoroki shōto, kirishima eijirou, shinsou hitoshi, takami keigo.
☆ warnings: 18+ content, fem! reader, rough sex, mild degradation.
☆ notes: TY FOR THIS REQUEST NONNIE <33 jealousy is such a turn on!!
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— IZUKU gets particularly energetic whenever he sees someone getting a little close to you or being flirty. he nicely pulls you away from the person and glares at them, but then he’s all jittery with pent up irritation and energy. he uses your pussy as an outlet, as soon as possible.
“feels so tight,” izuku whines into your neck as he ruts his hips against you, his cock head pounding into your gspot fervently. “i-i’m gonna fill you up—ugh, fuck!—and you’re gonna walk around and keep it inside you.” you bite your lip hard, head falling back against the wall of his agency’s staff room. you’re standing on one leg, pressed against the wall, one leg hiked up and being held by izuku. “i promise i will, zuku, just cum inside me, please!” the door is halfway open and his hand clamps over your mouth in an attempt to keep you quiet so you’re not discovered in such a compromising position. sweat runs down his forehead, and he grips you harder, determined to send you to your meeting late and dripping with his cum.
— KATSUKI is explosive, of course. the moment he sees someone getting friendly with you, he’s quick to snap at them and kiss you hard, then fuck you later. he asks for sexual affirmations while he’s railing you so hard you can barely breathe.
“you like it when i bend you over like this, huh baby?” a hard spank to your ass makes you whine loudly, your pussy clenching on katsuki’s thick cock. “i love it, katsuki!” your head hangs down weakly, and you look between your legs to watch yourself get fucked. a mixture of your slick, his spit, and his cum from early drip down from your hole, and his balls smack against your clit while his cock pistons in and out of you mercilessly. “how’s it feel, takin’ my cock like this?” dazed from the pleasure, you don’t answer as quickly as he expects you to, and his hips stop instantly. “no!” you exclaim desperately, starting to babble thoughtlessly. “it feels better than anything, katsuki.. please don’t stop fucking me, i need you so bad.” “go ahead and beg some more for me,” he laughs a little, his balls clenching at your words.
— SHŌTO is a little passive, talking neutrally to the person who’s getting too close. the second you’re both out of sight of others, he kisses you hard and makes out with you. while fingering and teasing you, he sucks dark hickeys into your skin.
“sho, don’t think about that disrespectful asshole, i—” strong arms pull you close, right into his chest, and sweet lips shut you up before you can say any more. letting yourself savor his touch, your eyes close, and shōto’s tongue slips between your lips with practiced ease; his kisses are controlled yet wanting. you whine shakily when his hand slips into your pants and into your underwear, his fingers brushing at your already sticky slit. shōto transitions, his lips moving to your neck eagerly, and he begins to suck at the supple skin. “oh, that feels good,” you whisper when two of his fingers press inside of you, another massaging your clit. “i wish i was inside of you.” he bites down on your skin particularly hard and you squirm. “later,” you say, palming his cock through his pants and pressing closer to him. “for now, mark me up.”
— EIJIROU is friendly when he pulls you close, kissing you in front of the person who’s making him fight a war internally with jealousy. but he’s actually angry, wondering how they hadn’t seen you together before they started getting flirty with you. so, he makes you suck his cock to help him get over it.
“can i suck it, ei?” you feel yourself salivating at the sight of him gripping his hard cock through his pants, the outline sending heat through every inch of your body. “hmm, okay,” he shrugs, slowly sliding his pants and boxers down his thighs. his tip is messy with precum, and despite his nonchalance he’s desperate for your mouth. wanting to tease him, you wrap your lips around him and very slowly take his length into your mouth. but eijirou’s hand pressed against the back of your head gently before he slams you all the way down. immediately, tears well in your eyes and you choke, your throat tightening. his crimson eyes roll right into the back of his head, and he twists his fingers in your hair, yanking you up and down on his cock. “let me use your pretty mouth, baby. this is what it’s for, isn’t it?” he groans when you tearfully look up at him, nodding. “fuck, take it deeper.”
— hitoshi is clearly unhappy when you return to him after purposely engaging with someone flirty, in hopes of him seeing you. he becomes uncharacteristically rough with you when you’re in bed together, and reminds you not to act like that again (but now you want to even more cause you love the way he treats you).
“i bet you talked with him like that on purpose, just so i could fuck you like a slut.” he spits, his hips pounding into yours, pace quickening by the second. one of hitoshi’s large hands slowly wraps around your throat, and he squeezes lightly, then harder when your eyes roll back. “i-i did, toshi! don’t stop, please!” he groans, his head tipping back, and his free hand pushes your knees into your chest harder. you’re folded into a mating press and tears well in your eyes, the pleasure overwhelming. you gasp, “i’m so close! hitoshi, you’re gonna make me—” and his free hand slips between your pelvis and his, and his fingers start to rub at your swollen clit. you grab his hand that’s resting on your throat and look at him with such desperation that he squeezes your throat hard, drawing gasping moans from your lips. hitoshi’s cock throbs when your pussy tightens, and his fingers fall away from your clit, and he slaps it instead. “no, you don’t get to cum until i do.”
— KEIGO swoops in, says “she’s mine, dude” and literally picks you up and flies off. overall, he’s pretty laid back and doesn’t get jealous, but when he does, he fucks you in hearing/seeing distance of the guy. for example, on a rooftop, in a nearby alley, etc.
“fuck you, dabi!” keigo shouts from the rooftop overlooking the man, his wings spread out and buffeting strongly. then he wraps an arm around your waist, pulls you against him and into a kiss. “kei,” you murmur against his lips, “i’m already ready, jus’ want you inside.” he almost cums right then and there, and before you know it, he’s yanking his clothes off and tugging down your shorts. your panties are pushed to the side hastily, and he’s quick to push inside you, but even faster to start fucking you. “be loud for me, baby,” keigo bends you right over, so you’re looking out at the city’s skyline and over all the roads. you’re shaking already as you mewl in pleasure, arms trembling as you try to hold yourself up. “keigo!” you moan, wanting to scream at how deep he’s fucking you. “good girl,” he whispers, “let the whole city know i’m making you feel this good.”
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disgustingtwitches · 1 month
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MDNI
Working at a restaurant with 141 (pt. 4)
You thought it was a mistake when someone called in reserving a party of 14 for a birthday. The voice on the other line assures you it is not, and that they'll be arriving at 7pm. You inform everyone.
"Who wid want a birthday in this shithole?"
Johnny gaffaued, spraying down some dishes.
"Probably just a prank call."
Kyle replied, arms wrapped around your waist and head resting on your shoulders. But it wasn't a prank call. The first half of the party arrive and you and Gaz have to scramble to push tables together. It's overwhelming, everyone is talking all at once, demanding things left and right. Gaz swoops in to help deal with one half the table while you the other. The food comes out, leaving you to be able to sit in the back for a few minutes, talking to the guys about nothing. Walking back out, some older man was snapping his fingers at you, waving his arms as if they weren't the only fucking people in the joint.
"Steaks burnt to hell, remake it."
He slides the plate to you, making you catch it before it falls off the side of the table. You apologize profusely and send it back to the kitchen. Price raises an eyebrow,
"Looks fine to me."
He stares at the piece of charcoal on the plate.
"Fucks sake, lemme do it."
Simon grabs his shoulder and cooks another steak. You set it down infront of the old man, watching him take a bite. He throws his fork down,
"Still burnt. How hard is it to cook a fucking steak?"
You look at the plate, meats still pink in the middle. Apologize again and offer to remake it.
"No, don't bother. Jesus."
He stares daggers into you. You wring your hands nervously.
"Actually, everyone's food was shit. None of us should have to pay for this."
Your mouth goes dry. You look over your shoulder to meet eyes with Kyle at the bar. He immediately walks over.
"Everything alright?"
He puts on his nicest customer service voice and that charming smile that can melt anyone. Except this asshole apparently.
"No everything is not alright, this was the worst dining experience I've ever had! Everything came out wrong, and it all tastes like shit!"
Spit flies out from the mans mouth. Kyle stands between you and the customer, trying to diffuse the situation. And much to your horror, one by one, the table starts to leave. You try to say something but they ignore you.
"Go get Johnny."
You run back, trying to act casual in front of Simon and John while tugging Johnny by the sleeve. He looks down, concerned.
He's on the floor before you can finish telling him what happened,
"Ye'r gonnae have tae pay sir."
His tone is more firm than Gaz, arms crossed and looking down at the old man. You're almost in tears as you watch more of the table file out the door, you turn back to look at Gaz. He frowns, furious. There's a heated argument at the table, the old man is yelling now. Not at Kyle or Johnny, but the only person he wasn't afraid of; you. The commotion makes John and Simon step out. This idiot is gonna get himself killed. You can see the moment when the customer loses the fight in his eyes. Shuts right up as soon as Simon says,
"Problem?"
Like a fish out of water, all the old man does is open and close his mouth wordlessly.
"Grab the cheque."
You don't know who Simon said that to but you and Soap crash into each other turning around and walking to the POS system. Ghost gently grabs the bill from your shaky hands and shoves it into the customers chest,
"Cash only."
"I don't have cash."
"There's an ATM around the corner."
The old man nearly jumps out of his seat,
"Right. Be right back."
He rushes to the door, Kyle and John follow.
"Oh there's no need-"
"Making sure you don't get lost."
Kyle smiles, eyes dangerous. It's about five minutes when they're back, the old man placing some 20s down before complaining under his breath. Then he gets kicked out,
"I need my change!"
He looks over Johnny's shoulder, looking to you for help. You shrug, arms crossed. When the door closes you sigh, running fingers through your hair
"You alright, darling?"
Gaz asks, voice as sweet as ever, gentle hand on your face. You nod.
~
That evening was pleasant. More than that really. They pampered you, cooed and soothed you as you huffed and sniffled. Ran you a hot bath,
"Poor thing, dinnae deserve tha."
Johnny massaged shampoo into your hair.
"Won't let you stay around next time we deal with something like that again."
Kyle kneaded the tension out your shoulders. John sat you in his lap, brushing hair out of your face while saying sweet nothings. You really do enjoy milking this for all it's worth, sad eyes looking up and huffing like you didn't get over that bullshit as soon as that old man walked out the door.
"Pampered little princess, you know that?"
Simon's lips are pressed up to your neck, just under your ear. You just nod, his words rattling around your brain while you got fucked senseless. You're tired, but the boys promised to coax an orgasm out of you. From each one of them. Then another. Well, you're a trooper, so what's one more round? Showered with soft kisses and praise, a foolish smile is painted across your face in a pleasurable state of stupor; Gosh, aren't you just spoiled rotten?
**sorry if it's short! I am on holiday ( ╥ω╥ )**
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freesomebodybyluna · 1 year
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Went to go see barbie with a coworker today, which was suuuper good btw and after we went to get froyo, which was so nice bc we talked for like 2 hrs until going home hehe I love making friends!!
#they asked me to go see it after my manager spread around that i was leaving soon which most of my coworkers knew#but since my bff & i had just barely established where we were going to live area wise & barely gotten everything done to move in asap in#her case (im not moving in until my lease is done here in less than a month) i hadnt told him yet but anyways#i said yes & we planned it for today & since we both normally walk or take the bus everywhere last night i was like what if you drive us#there since i have (a now insured) car & you have a license & that way we dont have to worry about walking home after the movie bc the#buses stop by then but yeah they agreed & we were gonna meet at our sbux until i saw them walking by just as i was exiting my apts#and they drove us there then drove themself home & i drove myself back on my own bc they lived close enough that it would've been fine#but boy was i shaking!!!! but ne ways hehe they're going to start giving me lessons which im so facking grateful for 😭😭#bc even though ive driven since then i haven't gotten genuine lessons since my friend left for her summer internship#and they set goals like teaching my how to drive on the highway & parking faster than i do now#which is so appreciated bc my bff & i are now going to live in an actual big city that has a transit system but is unfortunately a place#where i cant rely on something like that esp if i were to have to open/go into work super early#which is ok here bc i live right next to my job & get there in under one song most days....#ummm so ya....#my best friend was gonna show me how to get to & from work once i got down there but this works out better.... 🥺😭#anyways hehe its so fun making el geebeetee friends it makes my little heart so happy#its also funny that most of our store is el geebeetee & the majority are el geebeetee women or nonbinary hehe#dl
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marvelwitchergilmore · 2 months
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Nobody Important
Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> When you first meet Logan you tell him you’re nobody important. But it soon becomes clear you are a lot more important than you say. 
Disclaimer: Contains descriptions of nightmares, couple of swear words, being drugged (nothing bad, just some chamomile tea). Mostly fluff moments with a hint of angst. I watched X-Men and wanted to write something for him. Reader has powers though they're not specified fully. Not Proof Read.
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When Charles told Logan someone was going to pick him up from the airport, the last person he expected was, well, you. 
Compared to the pristine and fancy cars that were held at the school garage, you pulled up in a beat up old station wagon that looked like it had seen more than a couple of scratches in its time. And you weren’t dressed…like the rest of them. 
Rather than in some kind of pant-suit combo, you were wearing a long sleeve t-shirt, jeans, boots and a heavy brown leather overcoat. 
“Hey, sorry I’m late. Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.” You began immediately as you stepped out onto the curb and rushed towards him. “I was at the back of the forest collecting some berries and lost track of time. Shall we get going?”
Logan looked you over. You seemed a lot more…energetic than he was. 
“Who are you?”
“Professor X sent me. To collect you. You are Logan, aren’t you?”
“That depends. Who are you?”
“Your ride to the school, unless you plan on walking for two hours in the freezing cold.”
Logan grunted and threw his bag into the backseat. You still hadn’t answered his question but the licence plate of your car matched that of the one Charles had told him to look out for. 
However, fifteen minutes into the drive, Logan asked once more. “Who are you?”
You smiled and looked at him for a moment before moving your gaze back to the road ahead. “Nobody important.”
“Okay, fine. What are you?”
You smiled again. “Nothing you need to be concerned about.”
“Alright, listen bub-”
“Logan, whatever information about me you think you’re gonna have me tell you; it’s not gonna happen. I work with Charles and that’s all you need to know.”
Logan furrowed his brows. “So you’re a telepath? Like him?”
“You don’t need to concern yourself with what or even who I am. But,” you reached down and pulled a file from the driver's side door before turning it over on the steering wheel and handed it over to him. “You should concern yourself about this.”
Logan took it, a little confused, and opened it up. 
“He wants you to know what you’re walking into when we get back.”
After that, the rest of the drive was silent save for one question from Logan, only to have you reply with; 
“All the answers you’re looking for are either in there or are with the Professor.”
He didn’t bother asking you another question after that. Not that you would have answered it anyway. 
Once you finally did pull up to the school, it seemed you were beside him one minute and went the next into some unknown corner of the school because he didn’t see you after that. 
But he still had questions. 
Unanswered questions. 
Like who the hell were you? 
A week later, he still didn’t have his answers. But he did run into you again. 
In the kitchens. 
The entire place was a lot messier than the communal kitchen. It looked like some mix between a witches cottage and a mess hall in a school cafeteria. But it didn't smell as bad. 
Instead it smelt of cinnamon, oranges, rosemary and cookies. 
And somehow
It was relaxing to him. 
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Logan looked up to find you standing at the other end of the kitchen, a bowl under one arm and a spoon in the other. Flour was dusted across your face and your hands were splotched with food colouring stains. Which matched the batch of rainbow coloured cookies behind you. 
“Err, no. I was just-”
“Here, sit. I’ll make you some tea.”
“I don’t really drink..tea.” 
Logan was still taking in the room. Every time he looked back to a spot, he found a new detail to it. Extra herbs, or ingredients, or even flowers. 
You smiled, placing down the bowl and spoon before moving across the kitchen to the simmering pot on the stove. 
“Here, try this.”
“Oh, I, uh-”
“Just drink it.” You sighed a little, with a light smile. Nobody would have to meet Logan to know he wasn’t a tea drinker. But he was also polite enough to accept a drink. 
And he did. 
“Is this where you work?”
You nodded, going back to the fresh batch of cookies you needed to start scooping out. 
“Do you usually work this late past midnight?”
You chuckled a little to yourself. “Sometimes. Mostly it’s because I think of a new recipe and want to try it out when no-one's gonna disturb me.”
“Am I disturbing you?”
“No. Plus, I heard you coming down the stairs. Figured it wouldn’t be long before you found another night owl.”
Logan grunted with a soft chuckle. “I don’t think it’s intentional being a night owl.”
You shrugged. “We all have our reasons.”
Logan nodded and took another gulp of his tea. If he thought he felt relaxed when he walked into the kitchen, he didn’t have a word for what he was feeling after the tea. 
“Hey, what’s in this tea?”
“Not much. Chamomile mostly.”
Logan nodded. But then something shifted. He was getting drowsy. Not relaxed. Not sleepy. Drowsy. 
“Hey, what did you put in this?”
Logan went to stand and repeat his question, but he was out like a light before he could finish. 
Logan, for the first time…ever, woke up slowly. From the light that came flooding in through his window, to slowly turning over and feeling the bones in his body crack just right to allow his joints to feel at ease, to not thinking a thing as his brain slowly turned back into gear. 
Then he jerked up. 
With a grunt, he looked around him. 
He was in his room. 
The last thing he could remember was your tea and the kitchen. 
Flinging the covers from him, he tore his way out of his room and down the hallways until he finally reached his destination. 
The Professor’s office. 
Walking inside, he found the situation entirely too calm. 
“Ah, good morning Logan. Glad to see you’re finally awake.”
“What the hell happened?” 
“You fell asleep. Y/n helped put you to bed before you collapsed on her kitchen floor.”
Logan turned at that moment to find you sat on the sofa by the window inside the office. 
“You.” Logan practically snarled. “You did something. What did you do?”
Logan approached you but where anyone else would have flinched, you didn’t. In fact, all you did was sit back further and smile up at him. 
“She didn’t do anything, Logan. You needed to sleep.”
Logan turned and looked at the Professor. “Don’t mean I have to be drugged.”
Then you stood. “It was just a little tea, Logan. The more exhausted you are, the faster and harder it works. But now you look more rested. Your skin looks less like you’ve been thrown into a washing machine for a couple spins.”
“Are you always this blunt?”
You smiled. “It’s part of my charm.”
“Ain’t nothing charming about this conversation, doll.”
“Really? Because I’m finding this thrilling.”
Professor X smiled. “Okay, that’s enough, you two.”
“She started it!”
You just smiled again. “You’re welcome. If you ever need more tea, you know where to find me.”
With a pat to his arm, you walked past him and said your goodbyes to the professor before heading for the door. 
“Don’t worry about it, you can keep your tea.”
“Have to admit, though. I did help.”
Internally, reluctantly, he did have to. Because despite everything, it was one of the best nights of sleep he’d ever had. 
Another week rolled by and despite Logan doing everything he could to avoid the woman that he still considered had drugged him to sleep, he seemed to see more of you. 
Turns out, you taught cooking and baking classes to the students so they could at least make themselves a decent meal every once in a while instead of quick ramen noodles. And you also taught outdoor survival skills which Xavier had Logan help sub in with. 
But this also meant, much to his chagrin, Logan was actually starting to like you. 
Rather than wanting to storm off in the other direction, he wasn’t annoyed by your presence in the room anymore and you definitely had a way with teaching a group of rowdy teenagers who would rather do anything other than learn normal “camp” things. 
It was actually entertaining watching you teach your students. And even he learnt a thing or two.
Another week passed and Logan found himself back in your kitchen, sitting at the kitchen island, watching you as you lent one palm on the counter top, a pencil between your teeth and two pens behind one of your ears. 
“Want some tea?” You asked him after a few minutes of content silence. 
“Are you going to drug me again?”
You rolled your eyes. “It’s store bought, Logan. I just added a couple extra things.”
“Really, like what?”
Sighing, with a slight smirk, you turned around and pulled the box of tea from the cabinet before throwing it at Logan from over your shoulder. “Read it. It tells you what to add.”
“They actually sell this stuff?”
You turned back to your messy notebook with a smile. “It helps when your grandmother worked in the tea business for forty years. All the tricks of the trade, passed down through generations.”
Logan watched you work- no, dance around the kitchen. You didn’t even have to look at what you were doing and before he knew it, there was another tea in front of him, in a glass mug with hand-painted roasting logs on it. 
Logan looked at it for a moment and then you spoke up, without looking in his direction. “Being a night owl means different hobbies can be created. Glass painting was one of them.”
Logan shrugged with a nod before drinking his tea. The effects weren’t as quick or as “violent” as the first time. Instead, it was calming, then relaxing, then just plain and simple tiredness. 
“Go to bed, Logan. Before you crash into my floor again.”
“How did you get me to bed the last time? I’m not exactly all flesh and blood.”
You shrugged. “I’m stronger than I might look to you. But, go to bed, Logan.”
“Will you?”
“Will I do what?”
“Go to bed, too?”
You turned and faced him. “Soon. I want to finish this up first.”
“What are you even doing?”
“New recipe. I shouldn’t be long. Look, I promise. Twenty minutes, I’ll be in my bed, fast asleep.”
Logan raised his brow for a moment but then stood. If he waited any longer, he might actually crash onto the floor again. 
“Okay, fine.”
And you stuck to your word. Logan heard your footsteps coming up the stairs less than ten minutes later and after that…he didn’t remember much other than just complete calmness and sleep. 
The next couple of nights followed the same pattern. And even if he still wasn’t a tea drinker, Logan was growing a (small) taste for it. 
Until one night he walked in and found you stood in the corner, changing your t-shirt. 
You already wore a cami top underneath most of your t-shirts anyway – especially in the kitchen, but your first one had gotten too messy. So you were safe when changing. Except, you hadn’t expected Logan to walk in when he did. 
He paused for a minute by the door, a little apprehensive to make himself known but also trying to do so, so it wouldn’t seem like he was just watching you change your top t-shirt. But at the same time, he didn’t want you to know he was standing there because he could finally look at you. 
More so, when he saw your shoulder. 
From your left shoulder spread and faded over the top and to your right, a mark similar to a burn. The skin was scarred, yet healed over. A forgotten memory. The strap of your top cut through the larger scar that ran directly across the middle of the scarred skin, almost in a wave. Parts were redder than others but you didn’t seem to be in pain as you pulled the t-shirt over the top of your head and down your body, covering it back up. 
Logan coughed as he entered and you turned around, greeting him as you did every night. 
“New recipe?”
You nodded, looking at the messy t-shirt in your hand. “Yeah, it didn't go over too well with the mixer.”
“Better luck next time.”
And then you both just…talked. 
You were slowly telling him a little more about yourself each night, even if you didn’t know it yet. 
“I just remember being thrown into the wall and waking up like an hour later, completely covered in green brownie batter.”
You both laughed as you told him the story, but then he asked. 
“Is that where the scar is from? On your back?”
It was almost as if you had forgotten about it, having to take a moment to realise what he was talking about.
“Oh, that. No, that…that’s nothing important.”
Logan knew to drop his line of questioning. If you said it was nothing important, then there was no way of getting you to talk about it. 
Until the day he found you napping on the sofa. 
Everyone was outside for the day considering it was winter break and fresh snow had finally fallen on the ground. Except, you had opted to stay inside, and fell asleep on one of the central sofas in one of the quieter communal areas. 
The large windows let a lot of natural light flood in, and the fire that was crackling away in the fireplace was enough to heat the room, especially when the door was closed. 
And it wasn’t long before the quiet hum of the fire and odd crackle of the wood, mixed with the heat and your lack of sleep, overtook you and you fell asleep. You didn’t even wake when your book dropped from your hand and onto the floor. 
“Hey, Y/n, they’re all-”
Logan stopped in his tracks when he saw you. 
Fast asleep. 
He was careful to remain quiet as he walked over to you, cutting between you and the coffee table to pick up your fallen book and place it safely onto the table, where he sat on the edge and took a minute to just…memorise you. 
Since he met you, you had done nothing but be moving. All the time. From the crack of dawn to nightfall, you were constantly going and running and teaching and baking and doing and…hell, for all he knew, you could be something other than mutant or human – even those two needed sleep at some point. 
Hell, even he needed sleep. 
But you were just constantly forever going. 
Lay on your left side, your elbow tucked under your head, you were lightly snoring. Logan brushed the stray hairs that had fallen in front of your face, away, his hand rested on your cheek for a moment, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone for a second. 
You were fast asleep. 
Your worn Beatles band-tee was twisted slightly around your middle, whilst the waist of your jeans had twisted in the opposite direction a little, leaving a small gap that showed Logan the redness from the indent marks of where you had been lay, probably, on your other hip for a while. 
Logan thought about covering you up, and leaving you where you were, for a moment. But he also knew you could be like him when it came to sleep. And it was best to get it when you could. So, rather than chance the kids coming back in and waking you up, he made a decision. 
You flinched a little in your sleep as he spoke to you and lifted you from the sofa. It wasn’t long before he found your room and laid you into bed before covering you up. 
Once more, he brushed the hair from your eyes as you turned onto your side again. 
He looked around for a moment before finding what he was looking for. 
A heavy blanket. 
He lay it over the top of your bedcovers and you, before moving across the room to light the fireplace. 
Only, as he did so and placed the fireguard in front, you whimpered. 
He turned around but you were still. 
Then you whimpered again. 
“No,” you whispered. 
Logan moved over to you quickly and quietly as he could. You fell silent again. 
He let out a small breath and covered you up a little more before leaning down. He didn’t know why, but he pressed a small kiss to your temple before walking away. 
Except you reached out for his hand. 
Logan looked down at his hand that was connected with yours, then to you. You were still asleep. 
But it didn’t look like it was a good dream. 
You were shaking. Your entire body seemed to be paralysed with fear, all the while you were mumbling words Logan just couldn’t quite make out. 
Then the glass of water by your bed started shaking. Then the table it was on. Then your bed. Then the floor. Whatever was happening to you was spreading throughout your room. 
A picture that had been hanging on the wall outside, fell to the floor. 
Quickly turning back to you, Logan took hold of your shoulder. He kept calling your name but it was like you couldn’t hear him. 
“Please…please don’t hurt them. Please.” You screamed and then grunted in pain. Whatever was happening in your nightmare, you were being hurt. Badly. 
“Hey, Y/N! Hey, you’re okay! You’re safe! You’re in New York. You’re at school! It’s not real, Y/N. None of it is real.”
Your head shifted. You were searching. 
“I’m right here. None of it is real. You need to wake up.”
“L…Logan?” 
The violent shaking in your room slowed for a moment.
He was shocked. Maybe…
“Just follow my voice. It’s just a nightmare. I can’t get into your head and bring you out. Just…follow my voice.”
The shaking around your room gradually slowed, but you still were. Then your eyes opened. 
And glowed. 
They were still your eyes just…brighter. 
“Logan?!”
He had stopped speaking. You were panicking. 
“It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m right here.” Logan took hold of your hand and held it tighter. “You’re safe.”
The shaking slowed and your eyes closed again. 
Then everything stopped. 
Everything went silent. 
Logan looked at the glass of water beside your bed. It was like it had never moved. 
Then you gasped and shot up from your bed. You kicked your legs and brought your hands behind you to push yourself up and the covers from you. 
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, hey, Y/n. Hey,” 
You were gasping for breath, dizzy from your nightmare. 
“Hey, it’s me. Whoa. Hey, look at me. It’s Logan.”
He took you by your shoulders then your face. 
“It’s Logan.”
You finally calmed a little, and he watched your eyes search his entire face until you finally recognised him. 
“Logan,” you breathed. 
“Yeah…”
Your shoulders relaxed and you leaned closer to him, wrapping your arms around him. His hand held the back of your head and his other round your back, pressing you further into him. He could still feel your body trembling. 
“What happened?”
“You had a nightmare.” Logan told you. “The room started shaking and I tried waking you up.”
You took a couple of breaths before moving back and pushed the hair from your face and curled your legs up closer to your chest. 
Logan, sat beside them, placed one of his hands on your knee and the other in your right hand. 
“What happened?”
You shook your head. “Nothing-”
“The entire room started shaking and your eyes glowed. That’s not ‘nothing important’, Y/n.”
You swallowed and nodded your head before dropping your gaze and shifting until you were sat up, crossed-legged. 
Logan remained where he was, sat on the edge of your bed. 
“Before I worked as a teacher and cook here, I was one of them.” The last four words came out slowly, almost like you had to convince yourself you were saying them out loud. “I was an X-Man. I was a part of the team.”
“So what happened?”
“The usual. A mission gone wrong.”
“And that’s what the nightmares…”
You nodded. “It was the mission that made me retire. They needed me to do a job, and I couldn’t do it. There were kids, mutants, being held captive. Some rich dick thought he could duplicate mutants. As the team went it, I was meant to be holding ground outside, helping them find their way through. Only, I didn’t shut off my power. We knew they had someone who could detect me if I didn’t. I got so focused on trying to find the kids, trying to make sure the team got to them that the team almost…”
You paused for a minute. You hadn’t told anyone this story. Ever. 
Logan took your hand. “It’s okay. It’s just me.”
You let Logan’s touch soak into your skin. A memory you’d never forget yet never truly remember why you never would forget. 
“They almost died, Logan.” You looked at him and he could see the tears behind your eyes, threatening to come forward and fall again. “Everyone almost died, because I didn’t shut it down. You asked about the scar, the one on my back?”
Logan nodded. He didn’t like where this was going. 
“It’s from that day. One of their scientists had set off some kind of power..thing. Sent me flying blocks away from where I was supposed to be. I crash landed into some old wooden panelling which knocked me down. But once I got up…their Superhuman had found me.”
“Was he the one that-”
You nodded, remembering it as if it was yesterday. “I was thrown, this time on my front. I tried to get up but then all I felt was pure fire. He was burning me. Giving me a reminder of why ‘someone like me, born with the powers of gods’ shouldn’t have them when I was clearly so ‘weak’. By the time he stopped, I realised where he was going. And by the time I got up, everything just…blew up.”
“Y/n, everyone’s safe. You’re all here. Don’t you teach some of those kids?”
You nodded. “Doesn’t mean I don’t forget that feeling. One of the kids had been watching the guards, tracking their materials to find a way out. If they hadn't done that…they wouldn’t have gotten out, Logan. And they almost didn’t. All because I couldn’t fight. I can’t be the reason why I lose my family and the people I love.”
The tears came forward now, streaming down your face at an unstoppable speed. 
“I just can’t.”
Logan shook his head, pushing himself closer to you to hold you. And you let him. Leaning into him, you felt his arms grow tighter around your body. There was a small security in his arms, one that you hadn’t felt in a long time. 
“None of that was your fault.” Logan told you. “I know you and I know this team. You would never intentionally hurt people. And forgetting to turn your powers off? We’ve all made mistakes in moments like that. Sometimes you get so focused on one person, you tend to lose all sense of self. But none of that was your fault. They got out. They’re all here. They’re all alive. And rich dick is spending his life as dust in the fucking wind.”
“Believe me, I’ll be the first to tell you changing your feelings on something won’t stop the nightmares.” Logan continued. “But you need to find a way to let it go. Don’t let them control you. Not when you won. Not when you’re here, with everyone, able to drug me with some store bought tea.”
You laughed a little at that, wiping your tears away before Logan did the same thing, brushing his thumb underneath your eye and across your cheek. Logan smiled a little. Others might have called it a muscle flex, but knowing Logan; it was a small, brief smile. 
“Don’t let them win.”
You nodded, your head still in his hands. 
“Logan? Will you…Can you stay?”
It seemed to take Logan a second to find his answer. What you couldn’t see was that most of that time, he was trying to figure out why his answer came as fast as it did for him. 
“You don’t-”
“I can stay.”
You looked up at him and nodded with a slight smile. 
Moments later, Logan had kicked his shoes off and was lying beside you in bed. 
“Logan?”
“Yeah?”
You took his hand that lay between you both and turned your head to look at him. 
“Thank you for staying.”
It was his turn to turn his head and when he did, he felt something. The same feeling he’d been getting since the day you gave him his first cup of tea. 
Logan just nodded before lifting his arm. “Come here.”
You moved closer to him as he lifted the covers a little so you could do so. Then he dropped his arm around your back, his palm flush against its centre before it slid a little lower to hold you by your waist. 
As your head settled close to his chest, he dropped his head a little, leaning his jaw against the top of your head and as he felt you relax and close your eyes, he did the same thing. 
The moment your breathing became even, and he knew you were asleep, Logan settled back down and held you just a little tighter against him as he closed his eyes and joined you in a dreamless sleep. 
Hours passed and Charles hadn’t seen either you or Logan in hours. But when he spotted a picture frame that had fallen onto the floor, just outside of your room, he sped as quickly as he could down the hall, but paused when he saw the door open and a sight he didn’t think he’d get to witness for at least a few more months. 
From the hallway, Charles peered in to find the snow falling heavily outside of your window. The children and other teachers were still outside playing. The fire had died down a little, but even he could feel the heat from the room. 
And in the middle of the left hand wall through the door, was your bed. 
Where yourself and Logan slept soundly, almost as one. With your face and hand on his chest, and his arm around your waist, whilst his other hand held onto your arm in a soft grip, keeping your hand on him. 
Xavier could practically feel the serenity oozing from the pair of you. He knew Logan was troubled and that you yourself hadn’t felt safe or content in a long time. 
And he would never have to tell Logan of the change you brought to him, or the one he brought to you. The change that helped you feel safe again, content again. Happy again. Without the added feeling that something was about to go off kilter. 
Because Logan already knew. 
And so did you. 
And for Logan, no matter how many times you would tell him you were “nobody important”, you would always be important to him. 
2K notes · View notes
iid-smile · 1 month
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sunrise and sunset , nanami kento
x fem!clingy!reader ! nanami calls the reader "love" and "darling". the reader cuddles with nanami!!! the reader also loses sleep because of his love because thats cute.
author's note: nanami is so yellow but there's no option for it so he has to be orange </3 tell me why i was actually swooning while i was thinking about these scenarios in my head? especially the second one???? i think everybody agrees that nanami is a listener 100%
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sunrise.
nanami always wakes up before you. he used to get up as soon as his eyes opened, but nowadays, he has a little something holding him down.
it seems like you never fall asleep on your side. that's partly his fault, since he's always beckoning you to come closer to him. but even then, in the morning, he feels himself teetering off the edge of the bed, with two arms wrapped around his neck, and his now asleep arm still wrapped around your waist. slightly dangerous for him, but as long as you feel comfortable, then nothing else matters. seeing your pretty face first thing every day was a blessing.
"kento..." there it is. your tiny mumbles of you waking up.
nanami's lips immediately curl upwards at the sound of your voice. as gently as he can, he sits up more against the headboard, keeping your head laid on his chest. "i hear you." he responds.
the bedroom is quiet and tranquil. he specifically bought black out curtains for your sake, but considering the price, they really weren't doing the best job. mornings in summer were relentless, taking into the account how early the sun rises, and it would wake you up in the middle of your sleep with how bright it was outside. no worries though, since he has plans to replace them very soon.
you mumble again, lips grazing against his shirt. "why aren't you up yet?"
"i don't have work today." obviously a lie. you may be a bit dumb, but you're well aware it's a weekday today, and nanami isn't the best liar.
you lift your head, gaze shooting up to meet with his. "yes, you do! it's a wednesday." you whisper-yell. "you should be up 'nd getting ready..."
"my day doesn't start until yours does." you feel his hand on top of your head, coaxing you to lay it back down. "if i'm late for work, that's fine. you're more important to me." his touch moves up to your upper arm, and his thumb rubs in lazy circles. "go back to sleep, love. you're tired."
"you're too sappy 'n sweet... gonna make me swoon every time you open your mouth, i swear." you grumble.
"then i'll catch you every time."
"stop!"
sunset.
nanami always reads a book before bed. it's usually historical genres, he's not a big fan of sci-fi or comedy. but sometimes, he'll let himself indulge in the odd romance book here and there. why? they're your favourite genre, the books you read. he memorises each different author that he spots you reading, often gifting you another one of their works if he knows you're not having a good day.
finally, you emerge from the bathroom door, a few folded clothes ready to be put away in the laundry hamper. when you turn to him, you watch his eyes intently as they follow the words on the pages. "that's..?"
"i saw you enjoying it this afternoon." he flips a page. you move closer to the bed, crawling on top of the mattress and inviting yourself into the blankets. "you looked particularly thrilled during it. what do you like about this story?"
you pause, thinking over the entire plot. "it reminds me of us."
nanami can only smile, and he doesn't miss the one on your face. closing the book, he places it on the bedside table, and scoops his other arm underneath you. naturally, you rest your head on his shoulder, and hook one of your legs over his. the small distance between the two of you felt that much more intimate that you felt the need to lower your voice. "are you going to sleep?"
"no." the hand wrapped around your waist moves up to your head, just placing it on top of your scalp. "i want you to talk. you seem eager to talk about it."
you giggle inwardly, snuggling impossibly closer to him. "i'm so in love with you." you whisper.
"i love you too, darling. more than words can express." he whispers back.
no wonder you always wake up so late. it's because nanami always has your heart beating too fast before you go to sleep.
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1K notes · View notes
bitchimasnake-sss · 2 months
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Hear me out:
How monster trio, law, killer, and eustass would react to their partner saying they're too big. I love these men too much
IM HEARING YOU BUT i'm gonna be so real that i CANNOT write law, killer, and eustass good. i am a incompetent fool when it comes to these fine men but i suggest @fanaticsnail for her killer/kid fics they're so good!!! that being said, i can totally write for the monster trio hehe. they're my loves <3
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𐙚thinkin' about: the monster trio! when you say "'s too big."
cw: pussydrunk!luffy, mean!zoro, soft!sanji. praise and rough smex. m.list
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monkey d. luffy:
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❤️let me be honest with you. he doesn't even hear you. do you think monkey d. luffy could hear you while being balls deep into your fucking perfect cunt? do you think he'd be able to hear anything over the smack of his skin against yours, his debauched noises and your soft moans? ❤️he's a man possessed by only one intention: to fuck you till either he loses his mind or you do. and from the way you're drooling and digging your heels against his lower back, he's assuming you're gonna be the one losing your sanity. but don't worry, he's not far behind. ❤️your voice is so breathless, so incoherent as he enters you that how can you blame him for not listening? your back arched, your nails clawing down his back muscles and your tits pressing against his scared chest. how could he hear your soft "luff, 's too big, won't fit." over all that? ❤️but when you repeat and he hears it, he loses all sanity. a reckless smile plastered to his lips and he fucks into you again and again and again. his hips finding some kind of solace in the way your thighs pressed against him, the soft skin bruising as he just kept fucking into you. smack, smack, smack. won't fit? how not. he'd make it. ❤️ when monkey d. luffy can finally speak, he nudges his head into your crook, licks all over your sweaty skin and grins, "what were you sayin'? won't fit?"
roronoa zoro:
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💚oh, you think man is cocky before? just wait till he listens those words that just tumbled past your lips. 💚"wh-what? what did you say?" he asks again, his large hand stilling over your warm, soft thighs, "repeat." "it jus' won't fit, z-zoro." you hide your gaze from him, and he thinks it's so cute that you think that you can run away from him while his large palms are pushing your thighs to your chest and his mushroom tip is kissing your needy hole. you really think you can run from him? cute. 💚"it won't fit?" he asks slowly, tilting his head to peer you down, "really, baby?" but you turn your face away from him again, trying to hide the blush across your pretty face. how dare you? you were so fucking pretty, and all his and even then you were trying to run away from him? this won't do. 💚 "why won't it?" he coos, softly bringing a hand to pull your chin and make your eyes meet his, "come on, watch as i make it fit." and he'd make you watch as he slowly sinks into your pretty cunt. a rough thumb on your pulsating clit, rubbing down numbers and various iterations of his own name as he starts sinking down and down into you. 💚as he fucks you into your third orgasm of the night, he can only ask one wretched question: "what did'ya say?" and you babble incoherently, eyes growing glossy at how harsh he's fucking into you, "won't fit."
vinsmoke sanji:
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💙 oh, what have you done?! do you want to kill him? 💙sanji had come to the conclusion that one day he will die as you moan out him name and clench around his dick, you were that heavenly. quite literally. but he didn't think that day would come so soon. 💙your pretty lips parted so prettily, wet core rutting against him so nicely, and wide eyes looking at him with such utter devotion. your lips quivered, hands on his shoulder, "s-sanji, it won't fit." "it won't fit?" he asked you earnestly, lips coming to kiss away your face and jaw and neck as he mumbled against your soft skin, "it'll, my love. you can do it." 💙he's the kind of guy to bask you with compliments, gentle nudges as you take in more of his pretty dick inch by inch. his large palms roam up and down your body, soothing you, and his hot pants into your lips as he bottoms out inside of you. "see?" he coos, lapping away any tears, "it fit, baby. now take it." 💙though sanji is so sweet, so careful with you, he cannot help but be a little mean as he thrust into your plushy cunt. faster and harder and ready to split you open all while his words were cashmere against your reddened lips. he grinned against you, wet words against your swollen lips, "you're doing so well. see? it fit."
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a/n: omg haven't written headcanons for these pretty mfs in such a long time. missed doing this sm!! thankyou @steadybouquetkitten for the ask, it was sm funnn. i'm out of ideas, so, do send in reqs if you feel like it <3 credits: @eirirnnn on twitter for luffy fanart; can't find the artist for zoro's and sanji's. please let me know! @rookthornesartistry for the dividers! tagging: @bokutosbiceps resident luffy lover :) m.list
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1K notes · View notes
hairmetal666 · 2 months
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Wayne's used to worrying about Eddie. He should be; he's been doing it since the kid was twelve. First it was Eddie's silence, his permanent frown, the way the bones stood out too prominent on his small wrists. Then it was the kids at school, taunting him and calling him names, the fights and calls from the principal's office. Next came the late nights, the drinking, the dealing, failing his senior year twice. But all of those times, every single one, Wayne had known what to do. Maybe it wasn't perfect, maybe it took a little time, but he'd always figured out exactly what his boy needed.
And now--now Wayne doesn't know if he can help; knows it's not in his power to fix it. 
So, he sits for the second week in a row, watching his nephew--his whole heart--sitting in front of the window, looking out at the forest, nursing the same cup of coffee that he poured six hours ago, and wonders how in the world he can help.
They're cleaning up from dinner, Eddie quiet at his side, when he says, "Gonna need some help with the mugs tomorrow."
After moving to Oregon once Eddie graduated and he retired, he found an affinity for pottery. Never woulda thought it, but he loves it and tourists love his booth at the farmers market.
He can't think of a better way to get his nephew out of the house, but wonders if he doesn't know his boy as well as he thinks after a decade in Los Angeles, that Eddie'll refuse. He just nods, though, goes back to drying the plate in his hands.
And next morning, right at 6:45, Eddie is in the living room in black jeans that are so worn they're nearly grey in places, and the threadbare Metallica tee Wayne thrifted for him nearly a decade back. It's a win. Small, yes--Eddie doesn't even complain once about the country-western station Wayne plays in the truck--but still a step forward.
Wayne wastes no time parking and handing Eddie a box of carefully packed merchandise. He leads the way, trusts that Eddie is right on his heels until he hears Jim Hopper's voice say, "You better keep an eye on those mugs, son. Your uncle will tan your hide."
He turns to see Hopper balancing one end of Eddie's box, Eddie's cheeks flushed pink. "Sorry, I--uh, I've got it now." Hopper lets go and for the briefest instant Eddie's eyes dart to the side and the pink in his cheeks grows deeper.
Wayne tracks the path Eddie's eyes took and finds--he swallows back a chuckle--Steve Harrington just setting one of his Adirondack chairs into place, his t-shirt lifted to show of a stretch of stomach.
Well. Eddie did always like the pretty ones.
They setup the booth in companionable silence, and Hopper pops back over for a proper introduction. Before he departs again, he says to Eddie, "I got some kids who really love that dnd game and your show. They're going to be crazy to meet you. That okay?"
And Eddie, he's a good boy, he smiles and nods but as soon as Hopper is out of earshot, Wayne's saying, "Hop's kids and their friends are big fans and I know you're heartsore about the cancellation, but you better be polite."
Eddie glares. "What do you think, old man, that I'll be mean to children?"
"Well, with how you've been moping around the cabin these last few weeks, hard to know."
He scoffs. "Yeah, well. Netflix putting your hit show on indefinite hiatus without warning or explanation will do that to a guy."
Wayne knows there's nothing he can say to soften this hurt, so he gives Eddie's shoulder a tight squeeze. "I'm proud of you no matter what, son."
His nephew nods, eyes down, but Wayne doesn't miss the small, pleased, lift at the corner of his lips.
The morning passes smoothly and Wayne pretends he doesn't notice every time he finds Eddie's gaze straying to Steve's booth.
The kids come by around noon, Dustin Henderson breaking away from the pack to shriek, "You're Eddie Munson!"
Eddie smiles, stands. "That I am, young adventurer." He bows low, exaggerated and the kids giggle. "Pray tell, what are your names?"
The chatter is fast and easy, Eddie the happiest he's been in weeks, and Wayne relaxes back in his chair, lets out a long, slow breath of relief at the breaking storm. He stretches back in his chair, eyes catching on Steve Harrington across the way. Steve who is watching Eddie and the kids with an expression Wayne can only think of as fond.
Wayne isn't one to play matchmaker, but--he thinks, just maybe, just this once he could nudge.
It happens late in the afternoon, when business has well-slowed, Eddie asking, "Um--that guy over there, who is--what's his deal?"
Wayne thinks he manages to keep all traces of amusement from his face and voice as he answers, "Who? Ohh, Steve Harrington. He's the guidance counselor down at the middle school. Does a bit of carpentry in his free time. Best friends with the woman who owns that little bookstore."
He watches as Eddie processes, as his eyes widen, probably in remembrance of the pride flags and Protect Trans Kids shirts, how the woman in question wore a lesbian flag pin on her apron. "Guidance counselor?" He says eventually. "Kind of a drag."
"You would think, but the kids love him. The ones you met earlier today? He babysat them for years; imprinted on him, Jim and I say."
"Hmm," is the only response he gets, Eddie's attention back on the man in question.
---
The day after the market, Wayne walks into the living room to find Eddie's laptop tucked into the cushions of the window seat. He hasn't seen the thing since Eddie came home, never used to see him without it, and this--well.
He says, "need to run into town for a few things. You up for a trip? You might could stop at that bookstore."
Eddie nods, takes a sip of his coffee--he's actually drinking it-- says, "Yeah. Yeah, I think that'd be cool."
The store isn't busy when they arrive, and Wayne drifts towards the magazines to leave Eddie to his own devices.
Wayne loses himself to quiet browsing, wanting to give Eddie space, to maybe chat with Robin Buckley, strike up the beginnings of a friendship. Enough time passes, though, that Wayne is wondering where his boisterous, noticeable nephew could've disappeared to so silently.
He winds around a shelf and sees Eddie and Steve Harrington in deep conversation. He can't hear it, not really, but they're standing close, with pink in their cheeks. As he watches, Steve says something that makes Eddie laugh and pull a few strands of hair over his mouth.
They're almost inseparable after that. Eddie, Steve, Robin, and all those kids. They play dnd, have movie nights, spend hours at the diner. And Eddie, he's writing, sketching, gets down Wayne's acoustic guitar and plays around for a while.
When he asks how things are with "that Harrington boy," Eddie flushes red and says, "none of your business, old man" before giving Wayne a quick, affectionate squeeze. 
---
Two and a half months after Eddie came to stay, Wayne's walking back from the river, the sky the light navy of new dusk. His fishing rod is draped over one shoulder, tackle box held easily in his fist, the walk home pleasant, a perfect end to a good day.
The light from the front porch seeps through the trees, and he's thinking about a cold beer, a warm pizza, if Eddie's found his way home yet, when figures standing on the porch stop him in his tracks.
It takes a second, longer, for his eyes to adjust from the dark of the woods, and the glow of the bulb, but then he sees--
Eddie and Steve locked in a fierce embrace, desperate and very much private.
He turns right back towards the river, doesn't mind giving the boys some time.
He waits a good half hour, just enjoying the forest, before heading back. Steve's car is gone, the porch vacant, but the cabin is lit up, bright and warm and inviting.
Wayne steps inside, and his nephew is there, laptop open, but he isn't working, just smiling to himself, chin resting on his fist.
"Okay?" Wayne asks.
"Huh? Oh, yeah." Eddie's smile doesn't fall from his face.
He doesn't want to interfere, ask too much, not when he's sure things are still young. Instead, he asks, "What'd you say to ordering a pizza?"
And Eddie, heedless of Wayne's question, says,"you know. I've been thinking about maybe staying here for a little longer."
And Wayne, his smile grows, and he claps a hand on his nephew's shoulder. "You're welcome here for as long as you want. Already consider it your home anyway."
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