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1luvkarina · 3 days

Text

sleepover

aespa

pairing - kim minjeong x fem!reader

genre - 18+, gxg, non-idol x non-idol, fluff, best friends with benefits

requested by: 🦋 anon

request: here

synopsis - in which, your sleepover with your best friend leads to something much more different than your usual activities during your sleepovers

warning - MEN & MINORS DNI, g!p minjeong, soft dom!minjeong, sub!reader, cunnilingus

a/n: gonna leave this here for you guys 😋

Kim Minjeong has been your best friend since you were in preschool, she was known for her masculine looks and her playboy behavior, always sleeping around with different girls and moving on to the next one the next day. Minjeong was very protective of you and always made sure that none of her friends tried to sleep with you because in her words, “You’re too good for them and I don’t want you to get your heart broken.”

The two of you were currently hanging out in your dorm room, since it was your weekend to host your annual monthly sleepover. Your roommates, Chaeryoung and Sumin had went out for the night with their friends leaving just you in the dorm and Minjeong didn’t want to have the sleepover at her dorm which she shared with Yunjin and Ryujin, who often teased her for having feelings for you which she would always deny.

You were comfortably laying on the bed on your back reading a book, while she had her head on your abdomen scrolling through TikTok with her arm around your waist. She rolled her eyes, turned off her phone and turned her head to press her nose into your abdomen.

“I’m bored.” she says, letting out a dramatic huff in the process as she stared at your concentrated expression.

You hummed softly in response, not bothering to look up from the book in your hands. “And you want me to help you exactly?”

Minjeong pouts and props her chin up on your abdomen, her brown eyes examining your face. “Well, we could…” she says, trailing off as a mischievous grin spreads across her face. “Makeout?”

You looked away from the book in your hands and raised an eyebrow at her words, “Didn’t you say that we are only best friends and that’s it?” you asked, requoting Minjeong’s words, that she’d tell everyone who would ask if you and her were dating or secretly messing around.

Minjeong shrugged nonchalantly, “Well, maybe I was lying…” she trailed off, her eyes never leaving yours, challenging you to call her bluff as she moved to hover herself over you. “Or maybe I just really want to know what it would be like to kiss you.”

You rolled your eyes, marking the page of your book and closed it before setting it aside onto the nightstand. “Fine, one makeout session and that’s it.” you whispered, though on the inside you were freaking out since you did secretly have feelings for your best friend.

Minjeong grinned triumphant, reaching out to gently tilt your chin towards her. “One makeout session it is then…” she whispered, leaning in as her lips brushed against yours softly before deepening the kiss.

You kissed back as your arms moved to wrap loosely around her neck, your heart was racing and butterflies were in your stomach as Minjeong’s hand had moved down from your chin to rest on your waist. The kiss became more passionate as Minjeong’s hands slowly wandered to your back, pulling you closer. She moaned softly against your lips, parting them slightly to deepen the kiss even further.

She was enjoying this much more than she thought she would, “Y/n…” she mumbled into the kiss.

Your hands were holding the back of her neck as your hands ran through her short blonde hair, “Hm?”

Minjeong broke the kiss moving her head down slightly to trail her lips down to your jaw, her breath fanning out against your skin. “Can we do more…?” she asked, hesitantly a bit afraid of what your response would be.

Your breath hitched in your throat from the question, biting your lip to hold back your moans. “Yeah, I don’t mind.” you whispered, a small whimper escaping from your lips.

Her eyes lit up with excitement at your consent, she kissed along your jawline before moving to your neck, her lips nipping and sucking gently on the sensitive skin. “Fuck, I’ve wanted this for so long..” she mumbled against your neck, her hands tightening on your back.

You hummed softly, tilting your head slightly to give her more access to your neck as your eyes closed in pleasure. ”God…” she mumbled underneath your breath which was loud enough for you both to hear.

She chuckled darkly, her hands moving towards the hem of your shirt as she pulled it over your head and threw it somewhere in the room leaving you only in your pajama shorts, sliding her hands down your thighs and gently parted them before settling between them. She looked down at you through her thick lashes, checking for consent once more, wanting to make sure that you were perfectly okay with what she was about to do.

“Is this okay, Y/n?” she asked softly, her voice laced with desire.

“Yeah, it’s okay.” you replied in a hushed whisper, looking up at the older girl hovering over you.

Minjeong smiled mischievously at you before burying her face in the crook of your neck, her fingers slowly beginning to rub you over your shorts. She could feel your breath hitching and your body tensing beneath her touch. “You smell so good..” she mumbled softly into your neck.

You moaned softly into her ear, your arms wrapped loosely around her neck as your fingers toyed with her hair. “Jeongie..”

Minjeong’s name became a soft moan on your lips as her fingers kept up their rhythm, her own breath hitching in her throat. She buried her face further into the crook of your neck, her teeth gently nibbling on your skin.

“Say my name again.” she whispered against your neck causing you to become wet from the way she was rubbing your clothed cunt through your shorts.

“Jeongie, please.” you whispered softly, desperately wanting to feel her fingers buried deep inside your cunt.

Her heart raced at the pleading tone in your voice, she slowly pulled away from your neck, her hands still rubbing you through your shorts as she looked into your eyes.

“Please what, baby?” she asked, her voice was low and husky with desire. “Tell me what you need.”

A small whimper escaped from your lips, “Need you to touch me, please.” you whispered, pleadingly staring up into Minjeong’s eyes as they met your own.

Minjeong’s gaze locked onto yours as she gently grasped your chin, tilting your head up to hold your gaze.

“You want my fingers inside you, baby?” she asked, her thumb brushing against your bottom lip. “You want me to make you feel good?”

You nodded silently, a quiet moan escaping from your lips as you held eye contact with her. With a soft sigh, Minjeong reached out and gently tugged your shorts down, revealing your soaked panties.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet.” she murmured, before reaching down and pushed the damp fabric aside to reveal your pussy.

You gasped as the cold air coming from the ac hit your now bare cunt, “Wonder why?” you mumbled, watching as she moved down so that she was face to face with your cunt.

Minjeong smirked confidently, slowly lowering her head in between your thighs. “It’s because you want me, isn’t it, baby?” she whispered, her hot breath against your core making you buck your hips and let out a soft moan. “Shhh, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

You watched as she lowered herself in between your legs while biting your lip, “Fuck. Minjeong, I swear.” you whispered, glaring at the older girl.

She ignored the soft curse, instead focusing on the task at hand. She pressed her lips against your pussy, sucking gently on your clit before delving her tongue inside your soaked folds. Minjeong fucked you with her tongue, curling it against your g-spot as she ate you out relentlessly.

You moaned loudly as your hands gripped the sheets of your bed, you were glad that Chaeryoung and Sumin decided to go out for the night or else you weren’t going to hear the end of their teasing.

“Oh fuck!” you cursed out in between moans, moving your left hand to grab a hold of her blonde hair and pushed her head deeper into your cunt.

Feeling your legs shaking, Minjeong knew that you were close to cumming. She doubled her efforts, sucking on your clit while thrusting her tongue deep inside you as she hummed against your pussy, the vibrations causing you to scream in ecstasy.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna make you cum so hard.” she mumbled into your cunt, your moans filling the room.

“Gonna cum..” you whispered, panting slightly out of breath.

Just when you were about to cum, Minjeong pulled back, her face dripping with your juices. “Not yet, baby. I need you to hold it in for just a little longer.” she says softly, standing up from the bed, making her way over to her bag, grabbing a bottle of lube from the front pocket.

You whined when Minjeong pulled away before watching the older girl as she took off her sweatpants and boxers, rubbing a bit of the lube onto the tip of her dick. Your breath hitched as she climbed back onto the bed and aligned herself at your entrance. With a slow thrust, she entered your cunt, your tight walls stretching to accommodate your best friend’s size. You winced slightly in pain, grabbing a hold of her wrist as you tried to adjust to the size of her cock.

She moaned softly, her hands gripping your waist tightly. “You’re so tight, baby.” she whispered, slowly increasing her pace. “You can let go now.”

You loosen your grip on Minjeong’s arms, your walls clenching around your best friend’s member. “You’re so big.”

Minjeong leaned over and captured your lips in a deep and passionate kiss, “Mmm…you like that, baby?” she asked as she snapped her hips forward, burying herself deeper inside you.

She pulled back to watch as your face contorted in pleasure as you moaned in response, your arm wrapped loosely around her neck. You would have never thought that you’d be having sex with your best friend of all people

“Oh fuck.” you stuttered out in between moans, “Feels so good, Jeongie.”

Minjeong grinned wickedly at your words, loving the way your voice sounded when you were overwhelmed with pleasure. “That’s it, baby.” she hissed, through gritted teeth.

She sped up her pace, her hips snapping forward in a hard, fast rhythm as she thrusted her dick in and out of your cunt repeatedly. The sound of moans and skin hitting each other filled the room as Minjeong’s thrusts were becoming frantic and hard.

“Fuck, Y/n!” she growled, her eyes locked onto her best friend’s face. “You’re so fucking tight.” she reached between them and rubbed your clit in time with her thrusts.

Your moans grew louder with each thrust as your back arched off of the bed while Minjeong continued to pound your cunt relentlessly, throwing her head back and groaning in pleasure.

After a couple more thrusts, you soon cummed around her thick cock as she released her load inside of you before pulling out letting both fluids spill out of your cunt as you both panted out of breath and she fell down onto the bed beside you.

“That was…” you said, trailing off your words, looking up at the ceiling breathing heavily.

“Amazing.” Minjeong says, wrapping an arm around your waist while using her free hand to grab your chin, tilting your head to look up at her. ”We should do that again sometime.”

You looked at her in shock, staring into her eyes as you thought about her suggestion. “Totally.” you whispered, agreeing with her before drifting off to sleep.

Minjeong smiled softly at your now sleeping form, pulling the covers over both of your naked bodies and kissed your head gently before turning off the lamp sitting on the bedside table.

“Night, princess. I love you.” she whispered, silently wishing that she had confessed right before you fell asleep. She sighed softly before closing her eyes and falling asleep.

But unbeknownst to you both, both your roommates and her own had come back to the dorm room and stood outside of the room door with knowing smirks.

“Guess the others owe us money.” Yunjin says, causing Chaeryoung, Ryujin and Sumin to all laugh quietly at her words before they all quietly walked away to let the two of you sleep.

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shy-writer-999 · 3 days

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hey friend! can i request a capital F FILTHY zoro x f!reader where they two of them are rivals/borderline enemies who fight all the time but after they both get a lil tipsy they end up hate fucking in the roughest most desperate way possible…

Ohhhh yes yes yes. YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND, ANON. anything filthy and with zoro i’m down. brace yourself because this is nasty. you told me capital F FILTHY and i gave you FILTHIER. this turned into a ~2.9k word monstrosity. i read it through like twice so plz excuse any overused words or typos...

everyone say it with me, now: "hate sex! hate sex! hate sex!!!!"

---

You and Zoro butted heads since the day you got on the ship. Zoro thought his tiffs with Sanji were super fucking annoying—but Sanji had nothing on you. Not only did you have an annoying quip in response to everything he said, but he heard you actively shit talking him in front of his face multiple times. He despised you—everything about you. He hated how you mocked him, hated how cocky you were around him, hated the way you fought, your morals, the way you spoke to everyone BUT him; he couldn’t stand you.

The pair of you had almost gotten to blows multiple times, but he just couldn’t bring himself to hit you. He’d threaten you with his sword but never use it, even though he thought about it more than he would like to admit.

Your asinine remarks would replay in his head sometimes. “Zoro, the amount of effort you put into working out and being stoic is fucking pathetic. Lighten up for once. You’re fucking draining to be around.” Your tone was vile and pitiful. He saw red any time you said stuff like that.

“Zoro, another bottle of sake? Like you haven’t had enough to drink for a whole year? Fucking alcoholic.” You would smirk and condescend, and he’d try to send it back your way but he felt like the couldn’t twist the dagger the same way that you could.

“Shut up,” he would respond, agitated and cold. “Mind your fucking business and go nag someone else, woman. You’re insufferable.”

What was the most agitating thing about you being an asshole to him was that you did it while looking so good. He hated that. He would actively mull the fact over—you were gorgeous, but you had such a rotten personality, it couldn’t be helped. You fought like shit, treated him like a child, mocked him, derided him… And he did the same to you. But he felt his cock twinge any time you got close and nasty with him.

“Yeah, Zoro? Going to go sneak back to your hideout and drown yourself with sake before swinging your swords around? Fucking weirdo.”

Sometimes he would get really intense about it. He’d seethe with hatred and respond with such loathing that it was a wonder he didn’t do anything about it. “If you don’t leave me alone, I swear I’ll slit your throat.”

“Yeah, jackass? I’m sure you like to dream about that, but you’ll never be able to do it because you’re 1: a pussy and 2: I’m your crewmate, idiot.” Sometimes you’d tease him for having the hots for you (which you thought was false), and he’d get so flushed and angry that you thought he would light on fire.

One night, a group of the crew was drinking on deck. You, Zoro, Sanji, Nami, Robin, and Usopp. Everyone was a few cups (or bottles) deep, and what started in raucous laughter ended with people splitting up into small groups or going inside for some snacks.

You and Zoro were unfortunately sitting next to each other, much to your mutual dislike. An offhand comment from Zoro (he was speaking to Usopp) vaguely alluded to you being bad at wielding a sword. It set you off. Your head whipped in his direction. He must have been sitting a few feet away.

“What the fuck did you just say, Zoro?”

He rolled his eyes and waved his hand. “What’s it to you? Can’t you mind your own damn business?”

You bit your lip and shoved the crude and despicable rebuttal back in your throat—it wasn’t worth fighting with him again. You already had a spat earlier that day, which left you both livid. Sometimes you’d goad him into it for fun and games. The added benefit was that he would get even hotter when he was angry. Sure, his personality was shit, but when he sneered and snarled at you he looked damn good. You were in denial about how much his scowls turned you on, but you ignored it because you couldn’t stand the man. He was just an atrocious person all around, and you let him know that every second that you could.

After you heard the comment, you huffed, snatched your bottle up and stormed inside. You were about to smack the shit out of him. When you stood up, the alcohol hit you—you were definitely tipsy, perhaps that was contributing to how enraged you were.

You went into the galley and you were about to grab another bottle when the door opened. Those familiar, maddeningly heavy, swaggering footsteps padded towards you. Presumably, Zoro was coming to grab another bottle of sake. Like he fucking needs one, you scoffed to yourself.

“Oh, great.” He was scornful and sarcastic. “You gettin’ more? Can’t wait to see how annoying you get after this bottle.”

“Zoro, you’re on my last fucking nerve.” You turned around and he was a couple feet away, arms crossed. Something in his eyes looked different.

“Is that so? When am I not on your last nerve? You’re so fuckin’ sensitive, get a grip.”

You bit your tongue, trying to not say something foul. You failed.

“Zoro, I’m so sick of you. Your presence is literally unbearable. I can’t stand you, seriously, not right now. And oh, by the way, you’re a shit swordsman.”

You knew that last part would infuriate him. You wanted to get him riled up. It was a sick form of entertainment for you. And anytime you told him he was a shit swordsman he went ballistic.

“Do you ever shut your damn mouth!?” He stepped forward, his voice angry. He was uncomfortably close. You were leaning back on the counter, trying to create any distance you could between your face and his, but he had you caged in. He put a hand on the counter behind you.

“Always looking to start a fight, huh?” His tone was contemptuous and belittling. “You’re about to bite off more than you can chew.”

The closer he got, the hotter he looked. You hated him, but fuck, he was a sight for sore eyes. When he was up this close, you felt even more intoxicated than you already were.

“And what would that mean?” You stared into his eyes, deadpan and annoyed. You placed it now, you could see what about his eyes looked different—his eyes were ravenous. He looked like he was starving for something. More liquor? You hoped he was hungry for something else.

“You’ve got such a big mouth and you never stop running it.” He was practically growling.

Your heartbeat grew faster, and heat started to bloom between your legs. He was so hot when he was angry. That was part of the fun. Especially when his voice got like that.

“And what are you going to do about it?” You raised an eyebrow at him, and your eyes were deadly.

“Might have to shut you up somehow. Maybe you’ll shut the fuck up if my cock is shoved down your throat.”

You actually laughed. “Oh, what is it? Like three inches?”

He drew his face closer to yours. The hand that wasn’t bracing himself on the counter came to squeeze one of your hips so hard that it hurt.

“I’m about to fuck you so hard I break you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Fucking slut.” He murmured, his voice deep and hushed.

Your eyes were locked, eye contact blistering. He was staring into you so hard you thought he’d leave a burn mark on your irises.

“You’re an idiot, Zoro. Are you being serious? You’d cum all over yourself before you even got close to fucking me.”

“Mmmm, we’ll see about that.” He purred. You were speechless, your brain trying and failing to come up with something to throw back at him. It was short circuiting because he just said he wanted to fuck you.

In the moment that you were searching for an answer, his lips crashed into yours. His grip on your hip tightened; it was going to leave a bruise. As your bodies pressed together, you noticed his hard on rutting into you slowly.

The kisses were haphazard and sloppy, teeth knocking. He bit your lip so hard you almost yelped. A hand snuck up to grab a fistful of your hair and he pulled it so tight it’s a wonder he didn’t rip out a huge clump of it.

“You’re fucking useless.” He pulled away from you, murmuring in a husky tone centimeters away from your lips. “You talk all that shit but I know you want me to fuck you. Probably wanted it the whole time.”

“Shut up, Zoro.” You would have enjoyed every second of this if he just shut his trap.

He pushed you up so you were sitting on the counter. Sucking harshly on your neck, he bit it so hard you thought it would bleed. You let out a muffled whine in surprise.

“Are you already getting worked up and I’ve barely touched you?” His voice was poisonous.

“Holy shit, shut up, Zoro.”

“Say that one more time and I’ll put my cock in you.”

You doubled down. You hoped he was serious. “I said, shut the fuck up, Zoro.”

He let go of your hair and hips and proceeded to rip your pants and panties off in one go. He almost shredded the seams. He took in the sight for a moment.

Your eyes were bathed in lust, your breaths shallow and quick already. Your shirt rode up and your nipples were hard.

His fingers wandered to your now bare cunt and he let out a chuckle.

“You’re so fucking wet already. I know you’re going to take it all for me because you’re fucking desperate. Is that right?”

Your mouth went dry and you did the most miniscule of nods. You didn’t want him to know how badly you needed him.

He slid two thick fingers into your entrance then started to finger fuck you. Your walls tightened and pulsed around him, getting adjusted. Pushing them apart, his fingers roamed and prodded. It felt so good that you had to bite your lip to keep the moans back. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“You’ve been craving my cock this whole time like a depraved, touch-starved slut, haven’t you?”

His other hand grabbed a painful fist of your ass and then crept up to squeeze your throat. You let out a barely audible whimper and he felt his cock twitch.

You tried to squeak out words and you were barely successful. “You’re—the one—who’s hard—right now, Zoro.”

It was a lame comeback, but it drove him crazy. “Use your fucking mouth one more time and I’m going to stuff you so full you can’t talk.”

His fingers found your g-spot and pressed on it forcefully. You choked out a breathy “fuck you, Zoro,” and he went still.

“What was that?” His hand around your throat tightened. “Did you not hear what I just said, or are you fucking stupid?”

His fingers started to move twice as fast, and you squirmed. When he could tell you were about to orgasm, he pulled them out.

He freed his cock from his pants and fisted it lazily for a moment before lining it up with your entrance. “You want this, don’t you? You ran your fat mouth too much, now I’m going to fuck the attitude out of you. Say I’m a shit swordsman one more time and I’ll choke the air out of you until you see stars, then I’ll stuff you full of my cock. But you’d probably like that. Fucking slut.”

“You’re—a fucking—shit—swordsman” you tried to get the words out as his fist squeezed your throat. You couldn’t breathe and you were so aroused that it was hard to focus.

He pushed his cock into your folds and through your slit, entering you inches at a time. You started seeing stars, as promised, and you could only focus on his vice grip around your throat and the sensation of his huge girthy cock stretching you out. He let go of your throat for a moment before bottoming out, and when his tip kissed your cervix he groaned.

“Just look at you. Drooling for my cock, you’re worthless.”

He leaned in so your foreheads touched and pulled out of you agonizingly slow.

“You want more? You want me to fuck you?”

You just looked at him, pouting. You didn’t want to admit it. But you wanted it, and you wanted it BAD. You nodded again and he plunged back into you forcefully. A wet squelching noise sounded into the room when he bottomed out again.

Zoro grinded his hips just enough so he could fuck you deep inside.

“What, the back talk stops the second I put my cock in you?”

You hissed air in through your teeth. “Fuck you, Zoro.”

His jaw dropped for a second and he lost composure, but he kept moving his hips all the same. “What was that?”

“I said fuck you.” You were glaring up at him petulantly.

He pulled his cock out completely and you gasped at the feeling of emptiness.

“Okay, if you hate me so much then I’ll just stop. Is that what you want?”

You could only shit talk for so long before the pleasure started to take over your mind in a haze. All that you knew now was that Zoro was saying dirty things to you and he just took his cock out. That was unacceptable, at this point.

“Zoro.” You whined. “Put it back.”

“Awh, you want me to put it back in?” He feigned pity while you nodded eagerly, throwing all dignity out of the window.

“If you want it that bad, then you need to beg for it like the pathetic little slut you are.”

Your cheeks smarted with blush. You couldn’t believe that you were about to beg for his dick, but you needed it so fucking bad you couldn’t hold back.

“Fuck. Please Zoro. Please keep fucking me.”

Now that he was getting carried away, he wanted to be cruel. You did have a habit of running your mouth, and he wanted to punish you for it.

“Hmm. That’s not quite good enough. If you really want it, say my name. Say my name and I’ll fuck you.”

“Zoro.” You pleaded, your voice strained. He snuck a hand back in your hair and pulled your hair so hard it hurt.

“No. I said, say my name.”

“Roronoa Zoro. Please. I need it.”

“Louder.”

“Roronoa Zoro. P-please.”

“That’s what I thought.”

He pressed his cock into you again with a groan. One hand was gripping your hip, and he moved the other down to rub circles over your clit. Your hips bucked.

You started to let out moans with reckless abandon—you needed it harder, faster, deeper, anything that he could possibly do with his cock, you needed it. The noises melted in his ear, but he was worried that someone would hear, so he kissed you. It actually felt tender at times—if you weren’t lost in pleasure, you’d have been able to feel his thumb rubbing a circle on your cheek. What was up with that?

Between his kisses, he said something filthier with each thrust. “Tell me how good it feels.”

“Fuck, Zoro. Feels so good. Your cock—feels so fucking good.”

His shaft and tip dragged over your g-spot countless times. Each time your moans got louder and the mess you were making on Zoro’s cock got juicier.

“Zoro, ‘m gonna cum.” You were at your wits end.

“That’s it, baby, cum on my cock. Cum for me. Just for me.”

That was all you needed to hear before you started to squirm and writhe with pleasure. Your fingers dug into his shoulders and your eyes rolled back in your head—it was that good. He fucked you through your orgasm and then pulled out to cum on your stomach. He wanted to cum inside, but he figured he’d save that for next time (if you were nice enough to let him).

Moments later, while he got you cleaned up, he admired how flushed you were and how lidded your eyes were with satisfaction.

“Baby, huh?” You giggled.

“What?” Zoro was puzzled.

“You called me baby.”

He turned crimson. “You heard me wrong, blockhead.”

“Mmmhmmm, sure. Now help me put my pants on. There’s no way I can walk after that, baby.”

He was speechless. He knew you were teasing him, but he liked it. Enemies to lovers, much?

You found out later that no one walked into the kitchen while you were fucking because Sanji almost went inside and got quite the eyeful through the mini window on the door. He almost puked at the sight then promptly told everyone “no one go in the galley because the two boneheads are doing something disgusting.”

#one piece smut #one piece x reader #op smut #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro smut #zoro #zoro smut #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #zoro headcanons #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x y/n

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periprose · 19 hours

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May i request a Logan x angel!reader fic where the reader had to get medical treatment after a mission because her angel wings (that are apart of her mutation) were burned and partially damaged after battle, and Logan comes in to check up on her?

anon I loved this ask ahhhh thank you. I'm like half considering making this a series if people want it (so send more angel requests if you're into it!) <3 I may have made it more angsty but there is fluff at the end :) also reader goes by Angel in this fic.

When Flight Comes to Fire (or, Logan gains an Angel)

Word count: 4.5k

Genre: Best friends to lovers, mutual pining, X-Men stuff, idiots in love, angst, hurt no comfort, fluff, kissing

The first time your mutation made it’s appearance– sharp shoulder blades growing into thick appendages, soft, buttery white feathers extending from them in that unhuman way, your wingspan making it clear you would never be normal– your mother retched and said she would have done anything to chop them off of you. Would’ve done anything to have a normal kid.

In fact, she tried, multiple times, to do so. You were only twelve when she came at you for the first time, in your sleep, feeling falsely secure in your father’s platitudes about how she would never really do anything. You woke up to her reaching inside your blanket, grasping one of your wings as she brandished a knife in her other hand. Luckily, your wings were strong enough to shove her off, but you remember how you screamed at her.

Why, mom? It’s me! It’s me–

She didn’t listen, coming at you again, promising in delirious anger that everything would be okay soon if you would just let her fix it, and she had to be held back by your father, as he called the police.

Because you were her kid, she got let off with a warning, and you were stuck. So you would often fly to the tallest treetops and take your rest there, trying your best to ignore your mother’s other attempts on your life. She didn’t seem to ever get it. You would never be normal.

The final attempt was probably the worst, and the one that caused you to fly away in the end to Charles Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.

You were twenty years old, just old enough to legally leave home– you only stayed because your father insisted.

She set your favourite tree on fire. You had no idea your mom had been in enough anguish to essentially murder you for daring to be different.

You awoke to the deep smell of smoke, of tree bark charring, and then you heard the cracking and sparks. The tree quickly caught fire, and you shrieked in pure terror as the heat of the flames approached you. The immense light emitting from the fire blinded you, and suddenly there was a sharp pain from your wings and back– you were getting scorched.

So you flew upwards, high enough that the fire dissipated off your back instantly in the cool night sky’s air, and you were fine. Nothing to show other than a little scar, and the sounds of mutiny coming from your mother below.

You chose to forget her– no point in repairing a relationship with a woman who didn’t want you as you were.

But you’ve never forgotten the pain of being burned alive.

“Angel. You ready?” Logan is to your right in the foyer of the mansion. “Everyone else is waiting in the helicarrier.”

He’s your best friend, has been ever since you came to the X-Mansion as a runaway. It’s not an uncommon story among mutants, but Logan always felt you were like him. Rough, not the easiest to speak to, having a tendency to keep to yourself.

The major difference to him is that you’re a lot easier on the eyes.

Seriously, it was almost like the universe was playing a joke on him. Here was a beautiful girl with literal angel wings, just missing a halo as she arrived at the door for the School for the first time, and he just happened to be the first ugly motherfucker to open the door.

Logan’s never quite sure why you keep up with him, why you stay friends with him, if he was just lucky enough to be the first person you saw and liked. It drives him nuts, the way in which you rely on him, trust him more than he thinks he deserves, you come to him at every moment just to talk over everyone else, when surely you could have anyone else’s attention.

Especially any stupid guy, like him. He’s not sure how you haven’t noticed– even now on the staircase, he can’t tear his gaze away from you. Logan feels bad to be so in love with you, too– he wonders if he’s reading into things too much, if he’s pushing for something that isn’t really there.

And he’ll never know, because you’re so damn flighty. Logan can barely keep up with your whims, and he only knows as much as you’ll tell him about yourself (he hardly knows where you came from that fateful first day), so he just lets you come and go as you please. He’ll keep his feelings deep inside, where you can’t possibly find out about it.

“Yup, I’m fine.” You have a brief smile for him, which gives him that familiar twist of the stomach. “Oh. You’re not wearing your uniform?”

“It’s better to be incognito for this one, according to Scott.” Logan says, adjusting his flannel, mildly enjoying how you check him out.

You’re wearing the typical X-Men uniform– bright yellow, blue stripes down your sides, room for wings with a removable panel in the back. You let them loose, now, telling Logan you’ll be right back.

When you return, with quite a flourish, flapping wings in a true superhero-landing– Logan sees that you’re wearing a tank-top, and some jeans that really, really highlight your ass– but he tries not to focus on that.

“Hey. Tank’s inside out, Angel.” Logan says, waiting for you to fly off again, but you simply take off the tank top, and pull it back on the right way, exposing your bra-covered chest and lithe waist for the briefest of moments, while Logan loses whatever he was about to say. “I…”

“Don’t be a perv, Logan.” You jokingly side-eye him, never suspecting that that could actually be true as you tease him. “You’ve seen me change tons of times.”

“Yeah, but out in the open?” Logan stares at you. “You’re gonna have a shit-ton of admirers if you keep that up.”

“It’s just me, please.” You start up this whole I’m-not-pretty schtick that Logan is pretty sick of hearing, and he shakes his head. “Let’s go. They’re waiting.”

Yeah, Logan thinks, they are waiting, but he’s not sure you needed to be all quick and nonchalant about changing, just to get there faster.

That’s what he means by you being flighty– who knows what’s really in your heart, when you act so quickly?

“Listen up, X-Men. We’re gonna do our best to avoid damages today, right?” Scott speaks with the air of a leader who’s very fed up with his team members.

There’s a resounding yes from everyone, including you, Logan, Jean, Storm, Bobby, Rogue, Jubilee, and Kitty.

“What’s our mission?” Scott says, and you answer first.

“Find the new mutant.” You state, and Scott nods, while Logan hides a smile at how adept you’ve gotten at these missions.

“Make sure he doesn’t defect to the Brotherhood.” Jean adds, looking at you and Logan, seeing how close you two sit to each other. She’s kept it to herself– but Jean thinks if you and Logan really do have something going on, that would be nice. For the both of you.

“No damages.” Logan chimes in, and Scott visibly loses a little composure.

“I already said that.” Scott points out, and Logan shrugs.

“Well, it’s part of the plan, isn’t it?” Logan leans back in his seat on the helicarrier, nestling his head next to your shoulder, not noticing the way your eyebrows raise at the sudden contact. “Better than me not listening at all.”

“Sure, Logan. Fine.” Scott lets it go, knowing better than to ask more from the most “chill” (read: laziest) member of the team.

You laugh a little as Logan smiles a cocky grin.

The new mutant is kind of old– you’re looking for a 19 year old with severe singing around his clothes, pale skin, and black hair. You suppose he’d be extremely frightened.

Most mutants don’t deal well with becoming different all so suddenly, let alone at the very late age of 19, when you could assume that you’re pretty much normal. So you and Jean are hoping to find him first– you figure you’re the two that could calm him down.

Unfortunately, you find Jubilee talking to him first. She’s okay, but she has a tendency to be a little too bombastic, as Jean says quite often.

“And there she goes.” Jean grimaces as Jubilee taps the new mutant’s shoulder, and you pick up her saying that “she’s just like him,” which you’re not sure is a delicate way to deal with the topic.

There are crowds of people walking through the streets, too, and a lot of them are glancing at this yellow-jacketed girl talking to a boy with burnt clothes.

If you had found him, you would have brought him to the side, away from people, and–

“His face turned white. He’s freaking out.” You tell Jean, and her eyes narrow.

Bobby, Rogue, and Kitty are nowhere in sight, so this is just one weird young adult speaking to another one, and you really, really wish the rest were here. You, Jean, Logan and Scott are a bit older– perhaps comforting in your age– but you feel like the boy would’ve done well with more peers.

Jubilee raises her hand as you and Jean approach her. “Guys, I got it under control. See, Kyle, these are more people like us. More mutants.”

“...” Kyle looks on in disbelief.

“Kyle?” You try, and he looks at you– there’s something in his eyes that tells you he wants to trust you, but he’s scared– it reminds you of yourself. “We’re here for you if you want us to be. Take your time. Don’t worry.”

You smile, Jean smiles, Jubilee grins, and Kyle seems okay.

It lasts for about two seconds.

Someone drops what sounds like a glass bottle in the distance, and the shattering sound is enough for Jubilee to gasp, a little spark of fireworks launching from her fingertips, towards Kyle, who watches on in trepidation, and his body starts shaking, moving of it’s own accord, clearly reacting to being so close to another form of heat– and you and Jean move, as you yell out “Wait!–”

Kyle shrieks in fear as his body becomes overtaken with flames, combusting with such intensity that the flames roar at least 100 feet over, and Jean– Phoenix that she is– is able to withstand the heat, but you find yourself being pushed back by hot gusts of wind.

It hurts, it feels as if your skin is melting with every passing second. You grit your teeth, trying to breathe as Kyle loses control of his body, and you open your wings, deciding that flying off into the cool air would be a better alternative.

That was a mistake on your part.

The moment you open your wings, Kyle’s fire pushes you backwards, and up, into the hot air, and your wings catch fire as you come too close–

You scream, but it’s unheard through the roar of the flames, and you barely have time to catch yourself as you fall towards the ground, smoking, fiery tendrils engulfing you.

The last thing you remember is your mother’s face.

Logan sees it happen from a distance.

Scott wanted him to be as close as possible, something about keeping watch on him– and Logan gets it, he’s not always the most responsible, but later on, in hindsight, he wishes he was, because then he wouldn’t have missed what happened to you– and they both turn as a fire overtakes a block of the city.

“Shit, that must be him!” Scott starts running, Logan not far behind.

It’s only when he sees a pair of white wings, a woman flying up, up, up, the fire approaching dangerously close to her– to you– he starts speeding up, overtaking Scott, pushing people out of the way.

Logan wonders what he could do, anyways. He’s invincible, practically, incapable of taking on much damage as his regenerative abilities heal him– perhaps he could run to the kid and knock him out, sustaining burns in the process, but better him than you.

Never you.

Any second now– Logan sees the boy, and he’s got an open fist ready to lightly tap the back of his neck.

He’s not fast enough. Scott yells out, and Logan looks up to see you engulfed in flames, as you scream, and it’s awful to hear– usually you seemed so speedy, so ready to fly at a moment’s notice, that Logan forgot you could be hurt.

He calls out your name. It’s unheard by you as you crash on the ground, still burning– Bobby, Kitty, and Rogue have caught up to you from the other side of the street, and Bobby quickly makes an icy mist that subdues the flames on you, and Kyle’s roaring fire back into him.

You’re unconscious as the X-Men approach you.

Logan touches your face as he kneels next to you, the only one willing to come close right now. “Hey, Angel…”

There’s that unspoken fondness between you two, yet again. Everyone knows, even when Logan has tried to act cool about it. Even now, when Logan attempts to act like he isn’t totally hanging on to your potential words, searching for a breath, a little movement of your head.

Jean, Scott, Jubilee, and the rest look on in trepidation.

You don’t respond, and he feels his heart plummet. You’re covered in burns, mostly across your stomach and back, and he inhales sharply as he turns you over– there’s fresh, scalded skin, crispy-red to the touch.

Your back, your wings– they’re damaged so badly, with feathers singed straight off, the muscular appendages more visible and wounded, and Logan doesn’t know if you’re alive. He almost removes his hands from you, the very thought seeming to scald him from the inside, and he glares at the kid– the one who looks terribly guilty, now, as he runs away.

“Get back here!” Kitty shouts at him, anger in her eyes, and Scott pulls her aside, explaining that it was clearly an accident of sorts– something that Jean confirms for him with a nod of her head.

Right, Jean. Logan knows that if anyone could confirm if you’re alive, it would be her.

As Scott, Kitty, Bobby, and Jubilee go hunting for the kid– Rogue stays behind because she’s always felt close to you and Logan– Logan looks up at Jean in a solemn, teary-eyed look that has her understanding immediately.

“C’mon, Angel… stay with us.” She mutters, as she presses her fingers to your head, and she smiles comfortingly at Logan.

“She’s still here. Just barely, but still here.” Jean says, and Logan sighs, an angry, long sigh that tells Jean and Rogue that he’s going to be insufferably feeling at-fault here, even though no one is.

“Let’s go.” He picks you up, feeling the burnt skin through that damn tank-top, now barely being held together as tatters– for modesty’s sake, he takes off his flannel and wraps it around you.

Rogue lets Logan and you walk forward a bit, not wanting him to hear what she’s about to say, and then looks towards Jean. “He really loves her, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Jean exhales. “Let’s hope for his sake that she’ll be okay.”

Stupid bitch! You’ve been nothing but a curse on this family– fuck you, I hope your future daughter is just as fucked up as you are–

You awake suddenly, with a loud gasp and yell, your mother’s last words to you flashing on your mind– you attempt to pull yourself forward restrained back by tubing in your arm. You’re stuck in a bed. In a hospital bed of sorts.

Not just any hospital bed, one in the hospital wing of the X-Mansion.

You’re calm, at first, until there’s a sudden ache echoing from your back, through your body, through your wings.

“Ah–!” You groan in pain. Trying to move suddenly has hurt you.

There’s a knock at your door. It’s Beast– or, Dr. Hank McCoy, as he’s better known around the hospital wing.

“You’re awake.” Hank says in relief. “It’s been a few days since your accident.”

“It has?” You widen your eyes in shock. “How, w-what… am I okay?”

The last thing you remember is Kyle exploding in flames, causing you to catch fire– then you blacked out, and– you’re having terrible memories of your mother.

“Hank?” You mutter, and he’s quick to come to your side, blue paw-hand holding your own.

“My mother didn’t…”

“No, she’s not here. She’s never come close to you. You’re safe.” Hank states, as Charles has told him to, remembering the few times you’ve had to come to the hospital wing for comfort before.

So many mutants have troubled backstories, and he doesn’t quite understand why you don’t try to connect with others about it. Hank feels it could really help, but you’ve always changed the subject away from you.

You’re hurt, mentally, in a way that no one can really fix, and Hank is a big believer in letting people progress when they need to– but he’s so glad that you’ve bonded with Logan.

“Am I going to be okay?” You tap the side of the bed, fears present in your eyes. “Last thing I remember is Kyle going crazy, and I– I got all burnt–”

“Yes, you’re going to be okay. We’ve administered lots of injections, topical ointments, everything that boosts your healing. You might have some scarring after this is all over, but no injuries. You’re very lucky, Angel.” Hank comforts you, and encourages you to lie back.

“Lucky. Is that what you’d call a girl with a fucked up state of mind?” You murmur, and Hank shakes his head.

“We’re all fucked up.” Hank gets back up, leaving you in your room. “It’s a prerogative to being in the X-Men.”

You smile softly at that. He’s not wrong, but you wish, you really wish you could’ve just been that normal girl that your parents would’ve loved.

You look down at yourself. You’re wearing hospital scrubs, but there’s an unfamiliar fabric underneath the blanket.

Logan’s flannel is splayed across your stomach, a comforting, soft feeling that has you missing him almost instantly. Had he visited you, when you were unconscious, and decided to leave you this as a token, to help you feel at home?

You lift it up, taking a deep smell of Logan’s signature scent– pinewood, smoke, and something kind of sweet, like… marshmallows?

It makes you blush, but almost immediately after, you place the flannel back under the blanket. Logan doesn’t need your silly crush, your overt attachment, and you’re smart enough to keep that to yourself.

Logan hears from Hank that you’re awake, and although he wonders why Hank told him first, rather than Charles, or Jean, he’s glad to be the first one to see you.

“Hey.” He knocks on your door. To Logan’s surprise, he lets go of a breath he was holding– you don’t look horrific, you have some colour in your face, and there’s a soft smile on your lips when you see him.

You look just like Angel. His best friend. And he comes in real close, ruffling your hair as he often does, maybe more gentle because he doesn’t want to add any more pain.

“Hey, Logan.” You grab his hand, squeezing it with warmth, grateful to see him, before letting go suddenly and looking away bashfully, and he pauses, reminding himself not to think too highly of it.

“Angel. You’re feeling better?” He asks, and you motion for him to sit down on the edge of your bed.

“Yeah. Yeah, I feel okay.” You stare at him. It’s only been a few days, but Logan looks kind of awful– he’s got some serious dark under-eye bags going on, and stubble that is slowly turning into a beard, and there’s an apparent worry on his face that makes you just want to comfort him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Logan tries to ward off your answer with a stern, one word reply, but you’re not having it.

“Really? You don’t look so great.” You say, not without tact. “I hope you weren’t all cooped up in your room, worrying about me.”

Logan makes a sound that’s half way between a sigh, and a laugh at how close you always seem to get to the truth.

“Alright, yeah. Yeah, I was worried to hell about you. Is that what you wanted to hear?” He jokes, but your face falls.

“You don’t have to do that. I’m good now, I don’t…” There’s an air of seriousness coming from you, that Logan doesn’t typically see, something you usually don’t let yourself do.

“Are you good? Let me see your back, Angel–” Before Logan can even move you to the side, you turn in defiance, letting him see that you are healing. There are still parts of your flesh, red and angry, but for the most part it seems okay, already far better than it was a couple days ago.

Logan breathes a sigh of relief, touching your wings with a tenderness that has you leaning into his touch, and he gently skims over a scar of yours, glad to see that you’re genuinely not as hurt as he thought– but you pull away quite quickly.

“See? You don’t need to care so much, I’m fine.” You sound accidentally very accusatory, but Logan is just as much of a stubborn asshole as you are sometimes, and he narrows his eyes.

“What the fuck does that mean?” He stares at you. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Friends care about each other. Jesus, you’re the one who always– you’re always checking up on me, sneaking into my room, touching my face and arms and– how else am I supposed to take that?”

It sounds romantic, Logan realizes, after he’s spit all that out– and it does sound like he’s putting the blame of your dynamic on you. And, even worse, it’s all just out there in the open.

“Really. I’m not the only one who cares, Logan, you…” You shake your head, and instead pull his flannel out from under the blanket. “You left this for me. Why do you make it sound like it’s all just me?”

“Okay, fine, it isn’t. Leave it alone, Angel.” Logan pleads a little, his face turning red.

“You’re always acting like I’m gorgeous, you constantly hug me and lean into me, there was that time you let me sleep on top of you–” You continue, feeling more and more confused. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you sound like an asshole.”

Logan blinks, feeling the argument dissipate, as it often does, whenever you get close to confronting each other about feelings– you always manage to fly away.

He won’t let you, not this time.

“You didn’t. I am an asshole– I’ve never bothered to tell you how I feel.” Logan mutters, and the way your face blanches in fear, shyness, tells him to keep going, to push the boundaries. “I let my own stupid ego get in the way of actually caring about you, and I’m not going to make that mistake again. I’ve always– I really love you, Angel. And I’m sorry I never made you feel like that was true, I’m sorry that it’s taken until you got hurt for it to be real.”

You have an incredulous look on your face, one Logan wishes he could take a picture of and frame somewhere, because it’s genuinely funny, but then your lip quivers, and he feels like an asshole again.

You feel like an idiot. You think, all this time, what’s bothered you is that you’ve been avoiding the fire– the real ones, sure, but more the things your mother fostered in you. Your trust issues, the way how you hold people dearly in your heart but you can’t let them get close because you worry you’ll never be enough, it’s all been burning for years inside you, and you’ve never had to confront it until Logan decided to stoke the flames.

“It’s always been real for me, too.” You whisper, trying not to cry. “I just… I don’t always believe if people care about me, I never feel good enough to be something for anyone. It’s not you, Logan, it’s my mom, my upbringing, really.”

You give him a short, brief explanation of what your mom did– something you’ll surely expand on later, when it’s not so fresh, when you haven’t been literally burned recently, and the memories pain you more than ever– and Logan’s face turns sharp, his brows furrow, he’s clearly deeply angry by whatever you’ve just told him.

“I’m stupid. I just assumed– it was me putting too much pressure on you. You shouldn’t have been on this mission, that’s fucking awful.” He finally says, and then scowls. “I know you don’t want to hear it right now, but fuck that lady.”

You snort at that. “Yeah. Yeah, it was never you– I’ve always loved you too, Logan, more than you know. I’m sorry I’m always running from you.”

“Oh, so you’re consciously doing that?” He teases, trying not to react too much to your proclamation of love for him, although his brain feels as if it’s short-circuited. He squeezes your hand, and you laugh.

“Yup. I’m almost glad I got hurt, if it makes us more serious.” You comment, but Logan turns glum at that.

“Don’t say that, Angel. I still feel bad about it.” Logan holds your face, caressing your cheeks, staring into your eyes, glad now that you’re not going to shove him away. “Next time, I’ll try to take the hits. I’ll live.”

“You don’t have to–” Before you can start rejecting Logan’s offer, he leans in really close, almost kissing you but not quite, his breath hot on your own mouth.

“I want you to live.” He murmurs, and you feel yourself turn warm at that.

When he presses his lips to yours, it’s almost chaste, because Logan still isn’t sure how many of your walls he can break down in one day– but for once you’re quick to act in the opposite direction now, lifting tubes out of your arm (irresponsible as hell, Logan would say later on) so you can better reach his face, and you run your fingers through his hair as you kiss him, again, and again.

It’s soft, pliant, and warm, and Logan doesn’t quite know what to say when you come back up for air, breathing deeply, body sweaty from both recovery and how intense this is– he feels around you, around your waist as he leans in again, and you giggle, pulling away for just a moment before kissing him again.

His hands are gentle, skimming over your body without trying to hurt the burns on your back– but Logan feels you clamber onto him, onto his lap, and then he feels the soft feathers of your wings as they pull themselves outward, into the open.

He opens his eyes, and grins in a wolfish manner. Maybe you’ve been changed by what happened, maybe you aren’t the same, but you’re his Angel now, and he prefers that.

He kisses you again.

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gh0stsp1d3r · 3 days

Note

Saw you took D&W- Gambit requests. 💜

Would you consider a mostly fluffy one where Reader was in the Void, caught feelings for Remy, & somehow got separated from him in the transfer to Wade's timeline, so they reunite after each thinking the other didn't make it? Like maybe Reader never outright said how they felt till after they thought they'd lost Gambit? Something like that.

🏆 Thank you! 🏆

separated

A/n: love this more than you know anon

Warnings: did a lotttt of canon switching for this one. So… yeah. Fem!reader, mentions of wounds and blood

REMY MASTERLIST | KOFI

“Oh, look at them. They’re so adorable together.” Wade pointed to the both of you with a smile on his face, Logan furrowing his eyebrows.

“They just met.”

“Have you ever seen any disney movie ever? Love at first sight? I’m just glad my girl is finally getting some. About time. After that one breakup…” he rambled on.

Logan didn’t reply, just rolled his eyes and tuned him out, eyes glancing back up at the both of you.

The crackling of the fire filled the air as you sat next to him, feeling the warmth radiating from the flames and his leg touching yours. In that moment, the worries you had about Cassandra Nova and the desolate wasteland around you faded away.

He sent you a small smile, eyes lingering on your lips for a little too long when you laughed. It’s only been a few days, and he swears he’s known you his entire life.

He’s never felt this way before, the feeling foreign to him. It makes his heart pound and his soul yearn.

And everyone can notice it except for you, how hopelessly in love he is with you, and you him.

During the battle, he’s sending you a smirk, both of you working together to kill them all.

You stand by his side until you’re suddenly pulled by Wade into the portal, Remy holding a hand out, as if to try and stop him from pulling you in.

Wade assured you that he was probably okay, but let it slip that maybe, just maybe he was dead. He immediately covered his mouth.

You stared at Wade, the thought not crossing your mind in your shattered state.

The belief that he was dead, the simple idea of it, had you sulking in your bed, grieving for weeks. Wade had come into the room throughout the time, giving you food, telling you stories, speaking about whatever he could to hopefully crack a smile.

“Nice talk.” He murmured out, patting your arm while he stood up, sighing and shaking his head to himself.

“No luck?” Logan asked him when he walked out, switching through the channels on the tv.

“No luck. Still depressed as ever.”

Logan thought for a moment, pausing on one of the news channels.

“Why don’t you just do the portal… finger thing. Go back to the void.” He shrugged, “see if he’s alive or something.”

“Portal finger thing… haven’t heard that one before.” He said suggestively, Logan rolling his eyes at the man.

“You’re disgusting.” He murmured, standing up from the couch and into the kitchen.

But the more Wade thought about it, the better the idea sounded.

That’s how he ended up dragging the bloodied, heavy, and tired cajun into his apartment.

“Okay, there we go.” Wade grunted out, carrying him to the table.

You strolled out, not paying attention when you walked out your room. Wade smiled, standing next to the man. You didn’t see either of them, still staring down at your phone as you walked past them and into the kitchen.

You didn’t know he was there until he let out a pained little murmur of “cher?”

You spun around at the sound of his voice, your phone dropping and your eyes widening in surprise. Wade still stood next to him, proud smile on his face.

“Sooo… happy birthday.”

You were speechless, only stuttering out a very quiet “Remy?”

“And me.” Wade chimed in.

Logan also came walking out, his eyebrow quirking at the sight of him bleeding onto the table.

“He’s- he’s bleeding!” You told Wade.

“Yeah, had to carry him in. He’s extremely heavy too. I’m convinced he is all muscle.” He spoke, you rushing to his side.

“Ah, it’s jus’ a scratch, don’t worry ‘bout me, cher.” He told you with a wave of his hand, small smirk on his face.

You shook your head at him, going into the kitchen and grabbing the first aid kit stashed in there.

“Why are you hiding first aid kits in my house?” Wade asked you with a quirked eyebrow.

“In case I needed them.” You shrugged it off, pulling out some of the things that you needed. You grabbed a rag, Wade groaning at how much of his kitchen supplies would be ruined after this.

You ignored him, focusing on the man who laid out in front of you. His injuries weren’t bad enough to be fatal, thankfully, but they still could probably very easily get infected.

He stared up at you while you cleaned off his wounds. You glanced down at him, offering him a small smile.

“Can you take off your… suit.. thingie?”

He raised his eyebrows at your words. “Ah, if you wanted me to take my clothes off, you coulda said t’at.” He said with a laugh, sitting up to pull off his jacket and his body armor.

You rolled your eyes at the man, lightly shoving him back down when it was done.

“You know, you worried the shit out of me, Remy.” You told him quietly, beginning to clean the wounds that were littered across his body.

“I’m sorry, cher. I didn’t mean to do dat to ya.” He spoke sincerely. “But, if ‘t makes you feel better, I worried ‘bout you more.”

You sighed, damn him and his charm, you thought to yourself.

After you had finished cleaning his wounds, he sat up on the table, looking at you walk around the kitchen for a moment before turning to him, offering him a cup of water, which he gladly took.

“Reunions are always my favorites.” Wade spoke dreamily, his elbows propped up on the table next to Remy, staring at the both of you with a smile.

You furrowed your eyebrows at the man.

“Except for family reunions.” He shuddered at the mere thought. “Disgusting. But… this is too cute. And I think we should all-“ he trailed off, still rambling on as he went into the kitchen, opening up the freezer.

“You wanna go up to the roof?” You whispered to him, to which he quickly nodded at in reply, hopping off the table and grabbing a random sweater strewn around while you both left.

“God, I’m just so excited that- and they’re gone. What the hell? Where’d they go?” Wade asked himself, a tub of ice cream in his hands. He sighed before his eyes landed on Logan, who had walked out at the worst moment possible.

“Peanut! You’re here!”

“What?” He grumbled out.

“Since y/n and her hot boy toy left, we are gonna have a movie night.” Wade practically dragged him out, ignoring his protests.

You giggled as you practically dragged him up the stairs, pushing past the doors and leading him to the edge of one of the buildings.

You both sat next to each other, legs dangling off the edge. He looked at you, soft smile stuck on his face.

“What?” You asked him, noticing his staring. He shook his head, looking ahead again. Both of you stayed looking at the stars for a moment, the sound of passing cars and chirping crickets filling the air.

“I… I thought that you were dead.” You told him finally, still staring ahead.

“I’m here now, ain’t I?” He turned to you now, his head slightly tilted.

“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed, “obviously. But…” you trailed off.

“Hey,” he nudged your shoulder with his own, making you look at him. “T’ey gonna need a lot more than dat to take me out.”

You chuckled again, him cracking a smile at the sound of your laughter.

You both stared at each other, gazing into each others eyes for what felt like an eternity. He was the one to make the first move, his hand gliding off of the cold cement underneath him, and moving towards your face, sending shivers down your spine. Your breath hitched when he leaned closer, his lips ghosting over yours.

You were the one to smash your lips against his, shutting your eyes. Your lips moved against each other, finally getting the one thing you’ve been longing for.

You pulled away after a few moments, both of you softly panting, his hand still on your face, your lips still close to each other. “Is now a good time to tell you that I like you?” You asked him, him chuckling, pulling his hand away from your jaw.

“Remy likes you too, cher.” He told you. You sighed in relief, him turning to look back out at the stars. He pulled you closer to his side, and you put your head on his shoulder.

A/n: fuck yeah dude, this is what I call a comeback after not having written in forever

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castiwls · 2 days

Text

bed chem .ᐟ

Paring; dean x reader

Prompt; 'i bet we'd have really good bed chem'

Requested; anon

Notes; requests are open again!

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

It wasn’t often you found yourself drawn to a stranger sitting in the bar on a random Tuesday night. Normally the patrons of your local bar were your father's age and tended to come simply to chat up the bartenders and start fights over who won at pool.

Yet today it was different.

You’d noticed him almost immediately and it seemed he’d noticed you as well as in record time you’d found yourself tucked away in a back corner laughing at whatever joke fell from his mouth. One-night stands had never been a good idea - one too many awkward next mornings had all but made the whole idea lose its charm.

Yet sitting her now? You’d never been more ready for an awkward morning in your life.

You’d never understood what your friends had meant when they spoke about instant sexual attraction. How they could look at a guy and just know yet right in this moment you finally understood.

“You can’t be serious?” You laughed, taking a sip from your drink as the stranger - who you now knew as Dean - simply grinned and nodded his head. “As serious as I can be sweetheart.” He shot you a wink before finishing his own drink and placing the glass down with a quiet ‘click.’

He watched you for a moment, his green eyes shining under the dim lights of the bar. His eyes seemed to ravish you almost as his gaze slowly raked over your face, a slight flutter settling in his stomach.

“So, what brings you to this fine establishment on a tuesday night? I’m sure there is more… interesting places for a woman like you.” He raised an eyebrow, a smile which could only be described as charming growing on his lips as he watched you blush slightly.

Seeming satisfied with himself he slowly crept a hand across the small table, his fingers brushing yours where they were still wrapped around your glass. Your own heart was thundering in your chest as his touch seemed to light your skin on fire.

Your own eyes watched his hand for a moment before clearing your throat. “Small town. Not many options.” A small hum left him as his other hand tapped the table for a moment. “Tight nit.” Dean nodded looking over to the barman for a moment.

The man sent him a guarded look as he watched you both closely while cleaning a glass. “Not everyone's as welcoming as you.”

Nodding you shifted in your seat. “Small town you know. Everyone knows everyone…we’re all pretty close.”

Dean looked back to you, his smile returning. “Your friend at the bar looks about ready to chop my head off.” His smile slowly slipped into a smirk as an idea lit up in his head. The bar tender had been giving him shit all night - all day actually but you didn’t know that.

He was more then sure that he was the guy they were looking for but you seemed far more interesting. This could be a win win almost for him, he’d get the girl and also maybe provoke the guy into acting to prove that he actually was who they were looking for.

A quiet laugh left you. The sound was music to his ears almost as he watched your eyes crinkle. “Coles harmless he’s just…protective.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

You hummed quietly raising the glass back to your lips but Dean’s hand stopped you. His own hand wrapped around yours, bringing the glass back down to the table before leaning closer, his knees brushing yours.

Was this actually happening?

His hand reached out to push a strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”

“Are you trying to sweet talk me?”

“Is it working?” He grinned, his eyes lingering on your lips.

Shifting you lent closer, your faces only inches apart. “You have a car?”

The words seemed almost foreign on your tongue. The drink giving you a confidence you’d never had before.

But something inside you was screaming that this was the right thing to do.

Dean’s own eyes widened before he cast a look at the door. “I like your thinking.”

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anystalker707 · 2 days

Text

What do I get in return?

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x [gender-neutral] Reader Summary: Zoro was alone in the Crow's Nest. Tags: shy zoro / jerking off / oral requested by anon

MASTER LIST

Night had fallen a while ago, and aside from the sound of the waves, he could only hear the ship's creaking as it swayed on the sea. Whoever was at night watch wouldn’t go anywhere near the Crow’s Nest. They never did, anyway, so he didn’t think much before he started pushing his pants down just a little, just enough, breath hitching just the slightest when the fabric grazed against his cock. It had been bothering him for a while already.

Zoro let his tongue out to wet his lips and exhaled shakily while wrapping his hand around his cock, feeling a certain relief when the pleasure of the simple grip sparkled up his spine, making his cock twitch in his hand. He had to give himself a moment before he started lazily moving his hand. He pressed his eyes shut, searching his mind for a guilty pleasure that had been tormenting him lately, and his mind immediately went to the way you’d helped him earlier that week.

Zoro’s cock twitched, a bead of pre-cum escaping his tip without needing much, so he stilled his hand for a few seconds before letting his mind wander again. Your hands kneaded into his muscles with a strong yet gentle touch to help him out with some soreness, and he had to look away before his mind wandered too far and ruined the moment, but now he could fantasize about it all he wanted, dwell into that unspoken tension between the two of you.

A low sound escaped Zoro’s lips as he pressed his thumb to his tip, collecting the pre-cum and using it as lube to rub the sensitive spot right under the head. His hips bucked into his hand involuntarily, and he tried to imagine how it’d be if you were the one touching his cock instead, smirking and teasing him. Fingers leisurely working on his sensitive spots, compelling him to fall apart on your will.

With a shaky groan, Zoro tightened his hand around his cock, stroking it at a firmer and faster pace, his movements now smoother when more pre-cum ran down his length, and— You.

Zoro’s brain short-circuited as he opened his eyes and saw you right there, halfway through the hatch, observing him. His cock throbbed, and he hoped he would disappear, but he didn’t. For how long had you been there? “For how long have you been there?” He grunted, his cheeks red with embarrassment, as his hands covered his cock.

You raised an eyebrow, an elbow on the floor, and shrugged. “You don’t want to know,” you said, finally climbing into the Crow’s Nest properly, kicking the hatch closed before making your way over without stepping on the weights carelessly left on the wooden ground.

His eyes followed you, and Zoro was about to say something when he let out a questioning hum instead, furrowing his eyebrows as you stopped before him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Helping you,” you said as if it were obvious, giving him a moment or two before your lips curled into a smile at the fact he didn’t kick you out of there. “You’re always so tense. Come on, let go for a little,” you mumbled while slowly kneeling between his spread legs, and he couldn’t do anything but observe, mentally cursing everyone and everything, even himself, for how much he loved that.

Zoro found himself unable to tear his gaze away from yours. He resisted at first once your hands rested on his forearms, but he couldn’t do it anymore after your fingertips caressed his skin gently. Your touch sent a shiver down his spine, reminding him of his ache for you.

Sighing, Zoro gave in. His cock twitched—your gaze shifted the moment your eyes landed on his cock, and it somehow managed to make Zoro even more aroused. His hands fidgeted around a little before he finally let them rest on the couch, each by one of his thighs; still, he was far from relaxed. Zoro’s eyes caught on every little detail of your expression, searching for disapproval, disgust, whatever, even though he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know if there were any.

Your hand was warm around Zoro’s cock, holding the base firmly, then giving it a few tentative strokes; his legs twitched a little, and he cursed himself for being so sensitive. He bit his lip to muffle a sound, and his eyes closed compulsorily, but he quickly opened them again at your breath fanning over his cock.

“Mm?” You looked up at Zoro, your free hand on his thigh while this other gave his cock a squeeze. He pressed his lips together and leaned back on the couch, nails sinking into his palms, but all the effort seemed meaningless when your tongue touched his cock. The feeling was better than anything he could’ve made himself feel with his hands or summoned with his mind if he were otherwise to deal with his wants alone.

Your tongue ran from the base to the tip, warm and wet, with a texture that had his thighs quivering. Zoro thought he would eventually get used to it, but his body betrayed his own will, tensing up with almost every action of yours.

The tip of your tongue traced the veins on the underside of Zoro’s cock, giving attention to each one of them, and your lips wrapped around the tip. He had to take a deep breath, failing with the attempt to avert his gaze, even if the way you observed him intently had nervousness bubbling under his skin. Your mouth was warm, slowly enveloping his cock until halfway through it just to pull back again, letting the cold air uncomfortably replace it.

It felt too good. Zoro hated how much he enjoyed it, his thoughts puzzled, swimming, and he tried to hold on to mentally cursing, even though he loved it when you nuzzled his crotch while stroking his cock. Steady breathing fanned against his skin, and you were soon mouthing at his balls. His hips bucked again, cock twitching, and he wondered how you could make it feel so good. He couldn’t help the moan that escaped his lips with the sucks and licks, and it was too late when he tried to give a damn about it. You had some sort of effect on him.

Zoro’s cock covered part of your face and one of your eyes, but you still seemed to sense his gaze and look up at him. That look alone felt like a drag to the edge. He couldn’t help but moan again. His cheeks burned when your lips curled into a smirk, and he had to look away, cursing under his breath, almost back to reality again when your lips had his brain mushy once more.

Pleasure sparkled down his spine, compelling his thighs to quiver at the same time his nails sank more into his palm—the small pain was insignificant compared to the sensation of your mouth wrapped around his cock while your throat tensed up around his tip. Zoro would thrust into your mouth if you didn’t have that grip over him. Not a physical grip, no, it was just— The confidence, the skill, the way you handled him. Zoro didn’t know how to deal with that, and he preferred not to risk.

You swallowed around his cock, fingers sinking into his thigh, and you started bobbing your head, keeping a grip firm around the base. Eventually, your cheeks hollowed, and Zoro let out another moan, a louder one, arching his back. A familiar tingling took place in his lower stomach. You probably knew that, and he didn’t think he’d be able to say a word anyway. His hips bucked a little, his cock twitched, and your hand found his balls; it was like the cherry on top.

“Nngh,” Zoro gasped, hips jerking again, his mind already foggy. The moans escaped his lips more freely, filling the Crow’s Nest with low groans and panting over the slick noises, until he was saying your name and cumming down your throat. He didn’t remember the last time he had that kind of orgasm, mind-blanking and so draining, leaving his legs weak. A grumble escaped his lips as you eased him down from the climax, licking him clean, before you pressed soft kisses along the v-line by his left hip. He wanted to say something, but his mind could barely process where he was, let alone put words together to form a proper sentence.

“Come on,” you said, cutting through his thoughts. “I expect some sort of gratification.”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

#one piece #opla #one piece live action #roronoa zoro #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #zoro x reader #one piece x reader #oneshot #imagine #fan fic #fan fiction

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darksigns-exe · 2 days

Text

a thousand flowers could bloom - noah sebastian x f!reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: swearing, dry humping, big feelings

note: by request from an anon <3 im so sorry that it's taking me FOREVER to get to these.

Finding Noah in your apartment like this isn’t unusual. Over the course of your friendship, you got used to Noah taking full advantages of the spare key you had given him. Most of the time he announces himself with a quick text, but on occasion he’ll already be there by the time you come home from work, the store or some social obligation.

Today was one of those occasions. He’s stretched out over the length of your two-seater when you unlock the door, feet dangling over the edge of it. It’s fairly late, and he seemingly hadn’t even bothered to turn on the lights before he’d made a home for himself on your sofa. Noah is so fast asleep that he doesn’t notice you moving around the room, he only stirs when you find a place for yourself amongst his limbs. He stretches with a stifled groan, blinking up at you, still firmly held in the grasp of sleep.

“When did you get back?” he asks, voice still a little rough.

It’s so awfully domestic.

There’s really no denying it. What you feel for him can’t be just friendship. Moment’s like this make you feel as if you’re about one step away from your relationship becoming more than that, but at the same time you know how difficult it can be to be with someone like him. The touring and the other demands of his line work already make it difficult to be his friend. And even then, you don’t even know if he wants you like that.

Realising that you’ve been silent for a moment too long, you shake yourself out of your silence.

“Half an hour ago, maybe?” you reply.

He squints at you for a moment before breaking into a smile, “I had to get out of the house for a bit, hope I didn’t interrupt any plans?”

In a way he did, but Noah doesn’t need to know about that.

“You’re good.”

You adjust your position as he sits up, giving you a little more space.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” Noah announces then.

As if you’d expect anything else from him, the boy is somehow always hungry.

“I’m surprised that you didn’t order anything before I got here.” you counter, “Our usual place is closed today, so you’ll have to settle for something else.”

From the sigh he lets out, you’d think that the greatest of tragedies had just struck him. Eventually, he grumbles out a resigned fine, and you’re so sure that you can see him rolling his eyes like a petulant child. You settle on a different restaurant but realise too late that this place has an expected delivery time of almost an hour.

You decide to put a record onto the turntable while you wait and settle on a favourite of yours.

Dummy by Portishead.

The soft pulsing beat of the opening track settles you into a comfortable mood. With your legs thrown over Noah’s lap, you’re more than comfortable. Your idle chatter is interrupted when Noah’s phone dings with a notification that lets you know that your delivery will be delayed by a good twenty minutes.

The delay quickly flees your mind when his hand settles a little too high on your thigh. The touch is innocent enough, really, and maybe it’s only the music that makes it feel like more than it actually is. But you can’t deny the warm feeling that spreads throughout your body.

The conversation steering into a more intimate direction doesn’t exactly help your situation. It’s not uncommon for the two of you to talk about your relationships, although you’ve noticed that Noah has talked less about seeing people in recent months. When he would sometimes tell you about the people he went out with, he’d been suspiciously silent on the matter recently, and you can’t help but wonder if he isn’t seeing anyone or if he’s just not telling you about it.

“I don’t know, it just feels like everyone’s a disappointment, you know? I don’t know if my expectations are too high or if people are just shit.” you conclude your rant about the state of your love life.

Noah eyes you for a moment, “And what do you expect?” Your breath catches in your throat when you look at him. He’s never looked at you like this before – or if he has, you’d never noticed. His eyes are blown wide, lips caught between his teeth. Somehow, you already know that whatever you’re about to tell him will change things between you.

“I guess I just want someone to want me, if that make sense? I don’t think I’m asking for too much with that.”

Noah clears his throat. His hand pulses on your thigh, and you’re acutely aware of how intensely he’s pinning you down with his stare. “Oh, absolutely not.” his hand wanders up your thigh so tentatively, “Maybe you’ve been looking in the wrong place.”

Your heart thumps in your chest.

Surely he isn’t insinuating what is spinning around in your head.

“Do you think so?”

You sit up, but don’t quite detach yourself from him yet. Your palms feel awfully sweaty, and you have to force yourself to take deep breaths.

In the moments before he answers, you feel yourself spiralling through all kinds of scenarios.

“I don’t know, maybe you should look a little closer to home.”

His hand settles above your hip. It doesn’t feel foreign, you’ve always been a bit more tactile with each other. You know that part of what has been holding you back from falling into bed with just anyone has been the high expectation you have for your first real sexual encounter. Sure, you’ve made out with people, but it never turned into more. Something had always felt off.

Something you don’t feel right now.

“Noah?” you ask quietly, afraid to break this delicate moment.

“Yes?” his reply sound just as trembling as you feel.

You can’t find the right words then. Suddenly, everything you could say feels so out of place, so insignificant.

Thankfully, Noah seems to sense your predicament.

“Look at me for a moment, will you?” he says softly, drawing your attention to him, “Nothing has to happen here unless that’s what you want. I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything. We can just put a pin in this and come back to it when you’re ready for it.”

As much as you appreciate his concern for you, right now your mind is set on a single track. You don’t know where the confidence suddenly comes from, but you’re glad that it finds you. It takes Noah a moment to catch up when your lips meet his. A second later, his hand finds the side of your face. When you part, his cheeks are tinged bright pink.

You can’t stay away from him for long, though. Y0u scramble towards him, coming to rest atop his thigh. His arms wrap around your body, keeping you close to him. Noah pushes his thigh upward, bringing it into contact with your centre. It’s just a small touch, lessened by the fabric of your shorts, but it still sends a spike of heat up your spine.

You feel a little out of your depth with this. In theory, you know what you’re supposed to do, but in practice it feels so daunting. And when you pull away from his lips, Noah’s face immediately twists into a concerned furrow.

“Is everything okay? Too much?”

His hands settle on your waist, as he fixes you with just so much worry.

“I just don’t know – I don’t know what I’m doing.” You admit feeling a little more foolish than you’d like to admit.

The concern fades into something softer, “Do you want me to help, love?”

You nod, unable to find your voice.

“Alright. Okay.” you can tell that he’s sorting through his thoughts, “Tell me if something doesn’t feel good, okay?”

“I will.”

A faint smile plays on his lips, “Good.”

With his hands still holding onto your waist, he brings his thigh back into contact with you. The rhythm he helps you find is slow enough, and you find yourself taking over fairly quickly. Noah keeps one hand on your waist, while the other moves up the side of your body, creeping up towards your ribs. His thigh shifts beneath you, drawing a hitched breath from you.

“Is that good?” he asks softly, his gazed fixed on your face.

You can only nod, feeling much too overwhelmed to vocalise how you feel beyond the soft sighs that have been pouring from your lips.

Noah pulls you close to him, wrapping his arms around your body once more. Your hips move against him seemingly on their own. It’s so dizzying. If you already feel like this with this many layers of clothing separating you, how good will it feel when you can actually feel his skin against yours?

You feel Noah bury his face in the side of your neck, shifting his body, allowing you to feel how much this affects him too. He moans against your skin when you move against him a little more intentionally.

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” you speak into the crook of your neck, lips barely lifting from your skin.

Your fingers twist into his hair, trying to keep him there as best as you can. The sound he makes when you tug at it a little makes you shiver.

“Noah.” you sigh.

The pleasant sting of him sucking a bruise into your skin makes your head spin even more. That knot in your middle feels so tight already, even with so much separating you.

“Lie down for me, love?”

His face is so soft, cheeks flushed, lips spit-slicked.

Noah helps you shift onto your back and covers your body with his as soon as you’re resting against the cushions. He hovers above you for a moment longer, gazing down at you with an impossible softness. And just as he leans down to kiss you again, the aggravating sound of your doorbell tears through the moment.

His forehead drops to your shoulder as he lets out a heavy sigh.

Noah presses a quick kiss to your lips before he lifts himself off you again. Your eyes fall shut for a second as you try to make sense of what just happened.

I’ve wanted this for so long.

The words spin around your head. He wanted this – you.

When you open your eyes and sit up, Noah is still talking to the delivery person. He returns to you a moment later, placing the bags on your coffee table. He sits next to you, wringing his hands together for a moment before he turns towards you.

“We should talk about this.” he sounds so awfully hesitant, “I don’t want us to feel weird – I really don’t want you to feel as if I’m forcing something –”

Instead of letting him ramble on into oblivion, you take the initiative and press a chaste kiss to his lips, effectively shutting him up.

“Or we could eat and finish this later. You’re not the only one who’s been waiting for this.” It takes a second for your words to reach his head, but when they do, he gives you an almost wicked smile.

“Oh, we will absolutely finish this later.”

taglist: @deathblacksmoke @circle-with-me @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens

@malice-ov-mercy @chels3a-smile @ferduttini @somebodyels3 @itsafullmoon

@shilohrosechicken @poisongirl616 @mysticdoodlez @agravemisstake

#noah sebastian x f!reader #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian smut #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic

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genderkoolaid · 3 days

Note

Different anon, please assume good faith I'm not trying to troll or bait: would it still be reasonable to agree with a statement along the lines of like..... "All sexual assault and rape is traumatic, full stop. In addition if a person is capable of carrying their aggressor's child and especially if they're unable to abort it, this can add an extra dimension of trauma on top of an already deeply disturbing situation. This is true of all overlaying factors in sexual assault, such as relation to the perpetrator, transmission of STIs, and other layers of trauma." I'm a deeply tokophobic trans person capable of pregnancy and childbirth and sometimes I wonder how to talk about my deepest fears without sounding like I'm dismissing the experiences of people who don't have that. I think it's worth recognizing how pregnancy can worsen the situation without acting like it's uniquely awful, I suppose

Oh yeah absolutely!

Forced pregnancy is a unique sort of hell and obviously one that only some people are physically capable of experiencing. The problem comes when the ability to experience forced pregnancy is seen as Proof that you are really a woman/oppressed by misogyny. It's very short-sighted, which transphobic feminism has to be because if it considers misogynistic oppression using a wide variety of factors, it's obvious that trans women&fems are very much affected on a profound level. The same thing often happens in reverse to trans men&mascs and other trans people: folks narrow down misogyny to one or two selective experiences to "prove" that certain groups aren't really oppressed by it. It's all just pointless, sectarian trauma-measuring.

Also while on this topic: it doesn't cause the same kind of physical experience, but being forced to impregnate someone else is also a unique hell. I am frankly glad that I don't have to stress over having sex with someone and potentially getting them pregnant because that sounds stressful as hell. That's part of the reason I think it's so important to get better spermicidal birth control; it's not just to benefit people who can get pregnant, it's also a level of control over ones reproductive abilities that everyone should have. Especially people in abusive relationships who may have concerns about their partner sabotaging condoms/lying about their own BC.

#m.#ask box #rape tw #forced pregnancy tw

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twistersobsessed · 3 days

Note

hiii it's bracelet anon again with another thought that's been bouncing around in my head:) hopefully it's distinctive enough from my other request since it still revolves around giving scott stuff

i was thinking that scott is really susceptible to holding anything given to him while his attention is elsewhere, like tapping away on the tablet or talking on the phone, and reader picks up on this. so it turns into a little prank amongst the team that they're constantly handing scott things to see how long until he notices. after a while they start to notice that while he usually discards whatever he was given by other team members, he pockets what reader gives to him. so he ends up with a collection of random things reader has found on the side of the road; small bones, pretty pebbles, buttons, little toys that got flung out of car windows, coins, wildflowers, etc.

thank you for listening to my ramblings<3

Like Penguins | Scott x Reader

A/N: Combined two requests.

Javi started it. He handed Scott his sunglasses to hold while he was tying his shoe. Scott took them without even looking up from the tablet he was working on.

It became a little game amongst the rest of the team, one centered around handing Scott random things to see what he’d take without question.

Today was one of those days where you were all playing the game. James handed Scott an empty soda can. It took Scott ten minutes to notice what he was holding and throw it out. Matt handed Scott a rock. It took Scott fifteen minutes to notice and discard it.

Then it was your turn. You’d found a sick coin on the side of the road earlier. You handed it to Scott and like the others, he didn’t even look at you as he took what you were offering.

It took five minutes for Scott to notice what he was holding. He held it up and to everyone’s shock, smiled, just a little bit. Then he tucked the coin into his pocket.

After that, the experiment changed. It turned into everyone urging you to keep handing Scott things. So you did. It was mostly pretty and cool rocks you’d found, but sometimes it was other things like coins or flowers.

He kept every single thing you gave him.

The team was loving throwing out theories about why. But the consensus was clear; Scott had a soft spot for you.

You almost never rode with Scott. So you were pretty excited when Javi told you you’d be riding with Scott today. Scott was stoically quiet as he drove, only seeming to pay attention to you when you started going through the center console.

You were surprised to find all the rocks and coins and flowers and other little knick knacks that you’d handed him over the last few weeks.

“Snooping is rude,” Scott’s stern voice broke through your surprise.

“You kept it all,” you said quietly.

Scott was embarrassed, refusing to look at you and keeping his eyes glued to the road. “Well, yeah,” he said, like it was obvious. “You gave them to me.”

“Scott…” you reached over the console to place your hand on his arm. Scott swore his brain short-circuited for a moment when you touched him. “Did you know penguins court each other by bringing each other pretty pebbles they find?”

Scott blinked. “I vaguely remember hearing something like that,” he replied.

“So…” you hummed, waiting for him to put it together.

“So… oh. Oh.” He looked at you with wide eyes. You couldn’t quite read the expression on his face.

“Well,” he began. “I’m not a penguin. So I’m just going to ask you out on a proper date.”

“Oh?” You grinned.

“(Name), would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Fuck yeah.”

————————————————————————

Scott drove you into the town of El Reno that weekend to go to a nice restaurant. You wore a pretty, short sun dress that you never got a chance to wear. Scott actually got red in the face when he saw you. It was off the shoulders too, Scott swore his mouth watered.

Scott had made reservations and everything. You noticed at the table once you were seated that he was nervously flipping a coin through his fingers. A coin you had given him.

You reached across the table and placed your hand gently on top of his forearm. “Thank you so much for taking me out, Scott.”

Scott smiled, his fingers slowing. “You deserve it,” he replied simply. The hand that had been playing with the coin tucked it back into his pocket before covering your hand that was on his arm. His hand was so big and warm and completely engulfed your hand. You blushed. “You’re red,” Scott commented with a small smile.

The moment was interrupted by the waitress, who couldn’t stop giving Scott bedroom eyes. It was irritating you. “What can I get for you guys?”

You and Scott pulled apart and looked at your menus. Scott ordered first, the waitress obviously flirting as she complimented his choice and called him “hun.” When she turned to you she lost all cheerful niceness and flatly asked, “And you?”

You grit your teeth and ordered, not adding your usual “thank you.” You only relaxed when the waitress walked away. “Are you okay?” Scott asked, brow furrowed. “You got really tense.” You avoided his eyes. “‘M fine.”

Scott reached across the table and opened his hand. You took his hand, your hand being engulfed once more. He ran his thumb over the back of your hand. “What’s wrong?”

“The waitress is just flirting with you really obviously right in front of me. I’m trying not to let it effect my mood, I’m sorry,” you muttered.

Scott squeezed your hand and you looked up at him. His beautiful blue eyes were intently trained on you. “Don’t apologize, sweetheart. I didn’t even notice she was flirting, I’m sorry.”

“Just watch how she treats you compared to me,” you whispered as the waitress approached, bringing your drinks. “Here you go, honey,” she cooed at Scott, placing his beer in front of him. Then she placed your glass in front of you without even looking away from Scott. “Can I get you anything else?” She asked Scott, completely ignoring you.

Scott looked pointedly at you. “I don’t know, do you want anything else, baby?” He casually dropped the pet name. The waitress finally looked at you with barely concealed disdain. She gave you a fake smile while she waited for your answer. “No,” you said, addressing Scott and not the waitress. “I’m good, honey, thank you.”

The waitress scowled and left.

You smiled. “Thank you.”

Scott looked surprised. “For what?”

“For putting a stop to it.”

Scott chuckled. “Yeah, someone’s not getting a good tip.”

The rest of your dinner went smoothly and that waitress didn’t come back. A different waiter delivered the check. “Let me see.” You reached across the table to try and grab the bill but Scott snatched it away from you. “I’m paying so there’s no need for that.”

You tried to argue but Scott wasn’t having any of it. “This is a date,” he assured you. “I took you out. I pay for dinner.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

Scott offered you his hand as you walked out of the restaurant. You took it, feeling nervous like a school girl around her crush.

The conversation on the ride home was casual and relaxed. You couldn’t help but notice how sexy Scott looked driving.

You pulled into the parking lot of the motel Storm Par was staying at for the night. Scott got out first and as you fumbled with your purse, he opened your car door for you. You weren’t used to this princess treatment.

Scott walked you to your room, and you both stopped outside your door. You looked up at Scott with a shy smile. Scott’s eyes didn’t meet yours though. They were trained a little bit lower. In turn, you dropped your gaze to his lips.

Scott put a hand on the side of your face and leaned down, practically bending over to press his lips to yours. The kiss was short and sweet and left you wanting way more.

“I hope you had fun,” Scott said, sounding unsure for the first time since you’d met him.

“I really did,” you assured him eagerly. “Thank you for taking me out.”

Scott just smiled. “Goodnight, (Name).”

“Goodnight, Scott.”

#scott twisters #scott x reader #scott miller #boone twisters #dani twisters #lily twisters #twisters #addy twisters #jeb twisters #kate twisters #storm par #javi twisters #tyler twisters #tyler owens #kate carter

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olderthannetfic · 3 days

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that anon's post about how different posting fic used to be got me thinking about my own experiences in old fandom, and man... i hate to say it, but sometimes i kinda miss writing before third wave feminism got big online. i say that as a feminist myself. i feel like some of the Anti stuff we see today comes partly from misunderstandings and strawmanning of legitimate theory and observation, especially when it comes to the topic of sexuality. the thing that especially stands out to me is online horror. when i was younger, it seemed like you could get away with pretty much whatever horrible thing you wanted, and everyone kind of understood that EVERYTHING was on the table and if you're uncomfortable with some of it you just need to move on. and one thing that's brought me a lot of comfort as an SA victim was the over-the-top, stupidly horrible SA in creepypasta and darkfic. but now even the places with the most messed up content, where that's the entire appeal, has tons of people saying "oh yes all of the murder and gore was great but did it really NEED the SA elements? that could make it so unapproachable for victims" yeah so could literally everything else in this game, joseph, it's not supposed to be for everybody. it's hard to get all my thoughts in one place but when i look back on my time online, i see a through-line from "we should be more thoughtful about how we write women" to "why is the trauma always SA" to "yknow what don't EVER write SA unless that HAS to be what happened", which... again, that's my comfort zone. it's nice, being in a place where we don't pretend like death and torture are the only threats that could be hunting you. and more and more i find myself losing that ground! every time i find a new fandom that should be cool because it's right there in the media, i'm again hit with "mmm did we really NEED that though?" to be clear i do think you should warn for that, just like you should warn for psyche horror and gore and all that. but idk, when i can't even write mild dubcon without people screaming "think of the victims!!", i feel like nobody actually cares about us. because if they did, wouldn't we be allowed to write about the experiences...? apply them to the characters we related to, even? but nah, clearly we're just romanticizing shit and stereotyping women. fucking hell, man!

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iicarused · 3 days

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hand in hand

pre! hoodie, brian thomas x reader

synopsis: being brian’s partner before marble hornets / being that one endgame couple everyone loves

requested by: anon

not my best tbh but i love him so much — too perfect to write😣

definitely met in college, which is sad because your love was short lived — in comparison to TIM’S arc.

but he made that love worth it, because there was never a day without him swooning over you, ravishing even! he was all yours and you knew that even if you ever parted, there’s a space in your heart that will forever tie you both together.

in every universe, he hopes to find you again and again / and hopes they’re just as in love as you both are right now

his love is sweet and gentle. opening doors for you or walking you back to your dorms. your friends immediately knew you both started dating (no matter how secretive you both thought you were)

you and brian also had a communications class together — it was there it was the most obvious. partnering up every chance you got or him waiting for you outside the class doors

getting coffee together from the campus cafe or hitting the mall together when you’re supposed to be studying

he was your bad influence all throughout — but also the best influence you could get

studying what you study so he can better help you understand the material

it was dumb of him but he wanted to! really! all he asks to be is the best for you — out of every partner you’ve had

very classic on writing love letterings and pushing you to try new things (perhaps to audition for a certain friends film)

he just love experiencing new things with you! new adventures, living life at your side. he can’t get enough

maybe you dodged a bullet by not jointing the film — because from then on, your love would only wither

#ᥫ᭡.#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta imagines #creepypasta imagine #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x you #marble hornets x reader #hoodie x reader #hoodie x you #marble hornets hoodie #marble hornets headcanons #marble hornets hoodie x reader

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azulock · 22 hours

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I will raise you, poly!Nagireo where neither is used to sharing (Reo having always been given what he wanted all for himself due to being an only child and Nagi having been alone and all) and they stumble a little, trying to figure it out, until finally they get the hang of it, Nagi being chill as a counterpart to Reo's being passionate and fiery.

Anon, this is the polycule from hell, you are aware right? But lets go, I'm the world's most honest genie and your wish is my command

Reo x reader x Nagi polycule

⊙ Taking "why not both?" literally is def not as easy as it may seem. Esp when the both in case are those two idiots. Neither are very domesticated when it comes to relationships, they do really need to be broken in

⊙ Reo stands on the more anxious attachment extreme of this line, terrified of not being choose to an obsessive degree, it's easy to see him getting jealous, he can't really hide it

⊙ Nagi lives on the opposite extreme, being the more detached, distant type. He is just as annoyed at the chance of not being choose, but less so out of some deep fear and anxiety

⊙ Jealousy is a big hurdle in the relationship for both sides, but it's even worse because both of those guys display it differently and need different approaches

⊙Reo is clear as day about being jealous, he will try to hide it but he really can't. The signs are all there, and at the least bit of pressing he will straight up say what he feels. It makes it easier to deal with him, and all that anxiety ends up making him more on board to finding a solution. It takes a lot of reassurance and gentle words, but he probably comes around it before Nagi does.

⊙ Nagi is not at all good with feelings, and his reaction to getting jealous is to withdraw, get distant and pretend nothing is bothering him at the same time. It takes time, a firm hand - maybe even some rough words - and a shit load of patience but eventually you get him to admit what he feels, and only after some more hard world do you get him to accept it at the end. It's a lot but it works out, so it was worth it.

⊙ Honestly, in this relationship it's easier to do thing with the both of them or to do it alone, because if you choose just one, the other will most likely get upset, at least in the beginning

⊙ At those earlier stages if you leave to do something with Reo when Nagi just wants to stay home, Nagi gets upset. But if you stay home when Reo wants to go out, then Reo gets upset, it's very much a balancing act

⊙ This uncomfortable situation goes on for a little, even breaking into a few arguments, which brings everyone back to stage one again. After a while tho it settles down, and they start to adjust to the situation

⊙ Usually Reo is the one remembering important dates, proposing to go out and do something, getting excited to plan vacations together and stuff, while Nagi is the person for when you want to just stay home, order some food and play videogames. And once they settle down they start accepting that you can choose one or the other and yall don't need to be doing things all three together at all times

#Ask and you shall be answered #Anonymous #reo mikage x reader #mikage reo x reader #nagi x reader #seishiro nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #hope this is good nonnie I really tried but this one was hard for me

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helen-with-an-a · 2 days

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it’s my birthday!! Could we get some amor and alexia hcs?? No worries if not

Happy birthday sweet anon - wishing u all the best. So I have a specific birthday hc coming out for my birthday in November but here’s a mix of ideas

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Beautiful Girl Masterlist

They play footsie under the table whenever they can

Ingrid is Amor’s best friend - they played together at Wolfsburg before they came to Barça

Amor doesn’t tan like ever - she tries really hard but either just stays her normal skin shade or burns

Alexia finds it hilarious that Amor can’t tan

They read a book together before bed - Amor reads out loud with Alexia on her chest, playing with her hair and legs tangled together

Alexia once gave Amor a black eye from rolling over in the night and whacking her in the face - Ale was inconsolable when she woke up in the morning and saw what she did

Insta photo dumps are a must - Amor does them monthly (excluding the game day ones and promos etc) and the caption is just the month and year; Ale does them less often (usually ever 3 ish months or if they’ve been on holiday etc) and her caption is a either blank or a load of emojis

Birthday photo dumps every year - Amor’s photos for Ale are usually candid ones Amor has taken, a few photos of the Polaroids from their dates and then a few selfies of her and Ale, the caption is usually something she finds really funny like “everyone say thank you to Eli” or “she’s officially old” ; for Ale’s photos for Amor’s birthdays it’s pretty much the same vibe (maybe a few slightly more unflattering ones) but the captions are always mushy (e.g., so grateful to spend my life with you, mi amor. I love you to the moon and back. Wishing you the happiest of birthdays) - it’s the one time fans see how sappy Ale truly is (it’s nothing compared to the speech she gave Amor about just how much she loves her)

When they eventually do have kids, they break the internet again by just posting a black and white picture of Alexia carrying a baby car seat out of the hospital and a the caption, Baby Putellas (date of birth) [they actually post the photo about 6 months after the baby’s been born] and never mentions it again - they are never spotted with kids or anything at games and everyone is so confused how they are hiding a whole ass child

Amor and Ale go on to have 3 kids - a boy first, a good 6 year age gap then twin girls (no one besides friends and family know their names or genders or anything actually - each birth announcement was 6 months after they were born and was just a black and white photo of Alexia carrying car seats and the date and they never addressed it) - they have never been spotted at games or anything like that (they hire 3 very trusted baby sitters and use them on rotation and make them essentially just random kids in the crowd and they only ever go to important matches in person and there’s no interaction until Eli and/or Alba collect them from the hotel/their house)

Ale just has to be touching Amor in some way if they’re in the same room - either legs touching if they sit next to each other, or they hold hands, if it’s in private (but not alone) it’s either Amor in Ale’s lap or Ale’s arm around Amor’s shoulder and Amor holding that hand, in private (completely alone) Ale is holding Amor (either she’s got her head on Amor’s chest) or her arms are around Amor’s waist if they’re standing up

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curioscurio · 20 hours

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Why we have to start being nicer to eachother:

I know it sucks and is hard, but I think we really do need to start treating techbros and incels and our fellow humans with a bit more compassion, empathy, and understanding before we jump to bad faith interpretation. Especially when seeing a bad take online used as bait for arguments. We have to give other people the opportunity and knowledge to think for themselves, and make the choice to become a better person on their own.

"Hold on! Why should I be nice to people like that? THEY'RE the ones who are being bigoted to US!"

Well, I'll try and answer that question below! I ended up writing a lot, so check out the "read more" if you're curious. At the end of the day, I'm not an expert or a professional on human behavior, so keep that in mind. This is just something I've been thinking about based on my own past experiences.

Conspiracy theorists, the far right, gun enthusiasts, and even MAGA's all operate on the belief that modern society hates them for who they are. They think the entire world is against them.

And, looking at the kind of hate rhetoric and harmful ideologies they talk about; the cruel acts of casual and extremist violence that stem from that community, it easy to see why the world has turned its back on them. Right?

It makes you wonder: "Why are they like this?"

The easy way out is to simply hold on to the belief that they are behaving this way because they are bad people. Bad people do bad things, after all.

But when the world turns its back on a group of people, those people turn their backs on the world. They will naturally gravitate towards whichever group of accepting humans they come across first. Whoever validates their feelings and makes them feel accepted and safe instead of rejected and fearful.

The far right preys on young men who don't know know any better because they are never treated any better. They have influencers, exactly like Donald Trump, that make you feel safe. They also are lying to these people and using their fear of rejection to control them.

It's very similar to how the Church will help you out and feed you if you're homelss... as long as you join the church and donate 10% of your earnings to "God." (The churchs bank account. )

That is to say, people don't usually pop out of the womb with these prejudices and fears programed into their heads. It's something that has to be taught to them by somebody else. Their parents, the church, their school, their friends, youtubers, etc.

"So, what do we do? How do we save future and current generations from being sucked into this hateful spiral of far right bigotry?"

"How do we help our conservative parents, who we know love us but are absolutely convinced that they need guns to keep their families safe? How do we help our Trump Train family members who used to be loving, compassionate, people?"

Well, you're not gonna like the answer. We have to start being nicer to everyone. We have to be nicer to incels, dude bros, techbros, Karen's, and yes, even your average Republican voters. We have to show them compassion and empathy when they're expressing their fears, without immediately attacking them for it. We have got to prove to them that there's a place for them to come back to.

Their fears are being taken advantage of by a system that benefits from pitting the general population against each other. If we're too busy fighting eachother, we can never join forces and fight the system.

And so it turns into a self-sustaining system of fear and reactive lashing out. They start believing that everybody is against them, except the few people who understand. Until the only safe place left for them is the Q Anon message boards. Quite literally an orobourous of hate.

"But Curio! They literally want us dead! These people are violent and irredeemable!"

Many of them are. So many of these people are groomed into believing that the only way they can keep themselves safe is by killing anything they think has caused them harm. It's an intentional system maintained by those in power to control those who are not.

Some of them, however, are just normal people who got in with the wrong crowd or are too young to know better. Some people were never given the chance to be better.

"So, what SHOULD we do? Be nice to our oppressors? Let them get away with hate crimes and bigotry?"

No. But we DO need to stop thinking of "them" as this massive malevolent demographic who have no souls and are inherently evil. The majority of these people were lied to and manipulated and groomed into these beliefs.

We have to try harder to stop ourselves before we start calling them names and attack them, regardless of if they deserve it or not. We have to engage with them on good faith. Learn about WHY they believe conspiracy theories and why it stems from fear.

"Why? What will this help?"

Because you're quite literally showing them that there's another option available for them to take. You're showing them that, if they do change their minds and want to change their behavior, that you are a safe person to approach with these thoughts. You have the power to create a space for them where they're allowed to think for themselves without punishing them for it.

Once you create that connection, it's like you're showing them another road in life they can explore. They now can see a new future for themselves. A future where their kids start talking to them again. A future where they're not terrified of being humiliated for being soft. A future where they feel listened to.

And that's all. You just have to give them that chance. It's not your job to change their mind, or to tell them that they're wrong for thinking thoughts. In fact, trying to do just that will usually encourage them to double down.

But what you CAN do is build an environment where they have the OPPORTUNITY to change their mind. You can be kind, empathetic, and educational. Be patient and listen and have a respectful conversation with them.

It is especially important for people with privilege to step up and be those kinds of diplomats. People who are able and willing to look past the surface bigotry to address the scared humans underneath. People who can do this without endangering themselves or their community. This may be other cis straight white people who can get away with bringing these topics up gently, without triggering reflexive defensiveness. Who then have the patience to gently educate them and steer them towards a better path.

"But Curio, I can't do this. I've been hurt too many times by these people, and doing this would cause me significant mental distress."

Then don't. You're not obligated to be the better person for every situation and circumstance. Nuance must be taken into account. You don't have to be nice to every troll or ragebait Twitter post. I certainly don't want you to put yourself in a situation that causes you emotional, physical, or mental harm. Hell, you don't even have to give them the time of day. It's your own responsibility to make the judgment call regarding your health.

But people simply won't change if there's no room for them to change. And some people have the power to make that room for them little by little.

"I've tried everything. I've begged, cried, been nice, and shown them that we won't reject them. They won't change their minds no matter what."

And that's also ok! It can happen. When you give people the opportunity to make choices for themselves, there will always be people who still choose to believe the system they were groomed on. They can do that because thats free will, baby. There will still be people who will not change their minds and who will actively choose to become more radicalized.

And it's sad to see. But you also have to respect that sometimes people aren't ready to change at the same time that you're ready to help them change.

But you should try to do it for all the young men and children who are being taught by their parents that White Genocide is real. You should do it for the parents who love their kid so much, but are so terrified when they say they're transgender because they don't know what to do. Because they know the world will not treat them fairly or are afraid of ruining everything.

You should do it for your 10 year old nephew who watches Andrew Tate because their mother doesn't give a damn enough to check what kind of YouTube videos their kid is watching. You should do it for the depressed and hurting teenager who thinks they have no option left but to buy a gun and shoot up their school, because no ones listening to them. You should do it for the tradwife who's alone and hurting after her conservative husband cheated on her and left her with nothing; because she thought she would be the exception.

"...How do you know this will work? What if you're wrong, and nothing changes?"

I don't! I'm just a random person on the internet. I dont know who might read this. It's just my opinion.

But at least, at the end of the day, you tried your best to be a good person to another human being, and I don't think that's such very a bad thing. For me, I'm going to try because I don't want to lose my father to that kind of environment. I want to be able to have a normal conversation with him again.

There's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it's worth fighting for.

#long post #us politics

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