Summary: Heartbreak is a natural occurrence for all beings, but that doesn't make it easier to deal with. For you, this means having to deal with walking in on your soon-to-be husband sleeping with another woman in your bed. You mourn what could have been, and curse what is. You pray and pray to the gods with the hope that you can garner some sympathy, only to realize that two gods in particular are more than eager to give you their affections.
Chapter Tags/CWs: god!au, mentions of cheating, vaguely based on the eros and psyche myth, reader is Aglaea's disciple, Mydei and Phainon are together and looking for a third in reader, mentioned Aglanaxa
This fic has been roughly six months in the making, following a very heavy breakup of mine. So why not make this fic about cheaters getting got and have a hot Phaidei polycule in it? With that, I sincerely hope you all enjoy this fic as I enjoyed writing it!
I. Month of Gate
In the Month of Gate, it is customary for people to toss away objects from their past that bear bonds to their memories. Widows would toss away their rings given to them by their deceased lovers, mothers and fathers would throw out old clothes their now grown children used to wear. To sever old bonds, remove themselves from the past, and step forward into the vast future’s infinite gates. A voluntary act in efforts to clean the slate.
And now, you are doing the same. Tossing away the ring your fiance has given you as you gazed over the statue of Kephale forlornly, trying to dry your tears of the painful memory. You couldn’t see how or why he would do this, why he decided to forsake every vow the old titans and new gods have put into place by laying with another in your bed no less. And you couldn’t fathom why it had to be you of all people in Okhema to have to be the one to find out.
So here you are, wallowing in your grief and pity before the old Worldbearer’s statue as you uttered prayers after prayers, hoping the gods would hear your pleas. To Aglaea, goddess of romance and your patron goddess, in hopes that you may yet understand why this romantic relationship has faltered so violently. To Anaxagoras, god of reason, to give you answers as to just why it had to be you. But the two gods you’ve prayed to the most are not ones who would give out answers or mercy; Mydeimos the god of strife, and Khaslana the Deliverer. To Mydeimos, in the hopes that he would grant you enough burning fury to strangle that little vermin to death. And to Khaslana, in the hope that he would give you deliverance for thinking of such things.
These prayers circled in your mind, and you barely noticed the passing and going of others nearby. So stooped in your thoughts that you didn’t notice a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“You know, I figured you’d be here. Not many in Ohkema come to this spot to partake in this ritual,” the old bishop sighed, standing next to you and joining in gazing upon the old statue. “Though I suppose, in the many bodies of Tribios, the goddess does not care where the ritual is done. Only if it is done with sincerity in the people’s hearts.”
You turned to look at her, cheeks still stained with tear marks from however many minutes of crying. “Does she also care whether or not the participant is in heartbreak?” You mumbled softly, voice hoarse and spent. “Does she care if I only do this out of rage and sorrow, with the hopes that that filth is burned through?”
The old bishop of Tribios sighed, and merely motioned you to walk with her. “Dear child, the goddess of passage does not worry over the intentions behind the ritual. She recognizes that there are different reasons behind the cutting ritual, whether they be heartbreak or fury,” she spoke gently, leading you through winding market streets and quiet shop stalls. “Your pain is just as valid as your heartbreak, your heartbreak as valid as your fury. Who am I or anyone else to judge why you cut your bonds?”
She sat you down on a bench in the Garden of Life, shaded by the vibrant sun and by the cool garden waters. “I do not doubt that the infinite faced goddess would have questions about what ails you so, but she would no doubt give you mercy all the same,” she hummed, gazing out at the little chimeras so hard at play. “The gods do not fault the reasons why we mortals do things, nor can we strive to understand the gods’ actions in mere prayer alone. It is only through us walking amongst each other could we ever hope to understand each other.”
You only stared out with gentle somberness, letting a chimera kit hop up into your lap and curl into a ball to sleep. Perhaps it sensed your woes, seeking to comfort you in such rough times.
“Merely think about this, dear child. I have no doubts that the gods will punish that manchild for his wrongdoings to you, be it the Chrysalis of Gold or the Lance of Fury, and you will be healed,” the old bishop of Tribios patted your cheek gently, a smile on her face only a grandmother would have. “Have care, my dear. The gods will smile upon you soon.” With that, the old bishop hobbled away, off to do either more of her duties or give more elderly wisdom to another poor soul.
You sat there for a moment, thinking about what the old bishop said. The gods will smile upon you soon, she said.
“The gods will smile upon me… What a comforting yet vague answer,” you whispered, drying your tears one last time before setting down the little chimera and wandering out the Garden. If what the old bishop said was true—that the gods would smile upon you soon—then what signs would you have to look out for? How could you possibly see how or when they would grant you mercy or peace?
A quiet sigh left you. Another question for another day, for Curtain Fall Hour was drawing near, and the nonstop crying had made you weary. You figured you would know when the gods have graced you, eventually.
In the depths in Amphoreus, in a realm only the gods could come and go, a thundering voice was heard. The rage within it was palpable, the waters of the Vortex of Genesis quivering in its wake. For the voice belonged to none other than the Lance of Fury, the god of strife, Mydeimos in his golden armor and permanent scowl as he stared down at the sight of your tears. “The little rat deserves to burn for what he did. I should have the Titankin skin him alive,” he rumbled furiously, gripping his spear with disgust. For months, he had put aside his interests in you in the decision that you needed a mortal lover, and watched you give yourself to that shell of a man; your life, your heart, your very soul. All of it, crushed in an instant because the bastard had no ability to keep it in his pants. If it had been Mydeimos in his place…
“Come now Mydeimos, still your fury, if it’s even possible,” a calmer voice rang out, threads of gold trembling quietly. Aglaea, the goddess of beauty, moved with such a grace that it was near impossible for it to belong to a mortal. “We both know that this is an angering situation for us all, but let us refrain from destroying a city state in your rage.”
The god of strife scoffed, still enraged but heeding the goddess’s words. She was right, in more ways than one as always. But it did little to quell the fire within, not when it came to you. “It’s easy for you to ask this of me, as nonchalant as you are. One would think you’d be just as angry as I,” Mydeimos grumbled, crossing his arms with a sigh. “Isn’t the one thing you despise most after liars those who commit infidelity? Had this been Castrum Kremnos, he would have been skinned and fed to the lions.”
Aglaea chuckled, a smile on her face that did not quite reach her eyes. Those swirling pools of turquoise and gold held only plotting contempt, a gaze reserved for cheaters and homewreckers alike. “Even if I do not voice my anger, Mydeimos, rest assured I am just as furious. To see such a beautiful soul such as my disciple be taken advantage of makes me crave to usher the sweetest of punishments unto him. But even I know that the two of us cannot act within a city state that is not our own.” The goddess moved next to him with quiet anger, staring down at the scene of you looking up at the old statue of the former Throne of Worlds. “You and I know that we need permission from Khaslana, you more than I, considering the bond the two of you share.”
Mydeimos couldn’t help but snort at the latter sentence. To say that he and the Deliverer had a bond was putting it lightly; he hadn’t stopped pestering him since they were human once upon a time, to the point that Mydeimos was no longer immune to Khaslana’s antics. Aglaea called it ‘a romantic conclusion to rivalry’. Mydeimos simply called it a solution to Khaslana’s nonsense.
“Of course, we can get permission from him… He’d be just as furious as I am,” the god of strife sighed roughly, gripping his spear just a bit tighter. When it came to you, the Lance of Fury and the Throne of Worlds were your biggest protectors, even if you did not know it yet. To them, it mattered not what lengths it took to achieve your happiness. “But just how do you intend to make this plan of yours a reality? I doubt your own lover would see reason in this, pun fully intended.”
To say that the smile Aglaea wore sent chills down even Mydeimos’s hardened shell was an understatement, for he knew exactly what that meant. “No… no you cannot be serious. You did not use that trickster of all beings to put this into action,” he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “You know she’s going to see this as one of her games, or worse—expect payment.” Aglaea merely shrugged at this notion, that smile on her face not loosening up as she turned away from Mydeimos. “You would think that as a part of the gods of calamity, you’d be all for having Cifera be a part of this plan. Matter of fact, you didn’t seem to be against it when she had already made her move.”
A soft cackle resonated in the cavern, the sound of coins clinking together in a whimsical jingle. “Aww, have some belief in me, little prince. Who could say no to a little bit of mischief, hmm?” Cifera, the goddess of trickery, pranced over to the spirit basin with a mirthful grin. It seemed the thief was in good spirits, if she was more than willing to indulge on the romance goddess’s offer. “A chance to humble a little upstart like him, and have the seamstress get out of my fur? It’s just too good of a deal.”
Mydeimos grumbled, rolling his eyes at Cifera’s rambles. For the sake of duty, he had tolerated the Coin of Whimsy. Not hatred or approval, just… tolerated. “Such noble reasons for your involvement. Tell me then, how did you make your stake in Aglaea’s plan, thief? Surely you’re not going to just steal from him and dump him off in some desolate corner of Amphoreus, are you?” He snorted, looking down at the trickster. “That would be too boring even for you.”
Cifera only chuckled, a sound bordering on cackling rather than laughter. “Oh, don’t you worry about it! You’re right, that would be too easy. So the seamstress gave me a better idea. But I’m not gonna tell you anything about it, little prince. You’ll just have to figure it out for yourself!”
With that, Cifera sent Mydeimos a grin and tossed up that accursed coin of hers, and she was already gone before anything could be said.
Aglaea only chuckled, shaking her head as she walked past Mydeimos. “She hasn’t changed a bit, has she? As quick to leave as ever,” she hummed, taking a glance at the basin once more before speaking once more. “... Mydeimos, tell me something. Why are you and Khaslana so enamoured with this one particular mortal? There are tens if not hundreds of thousands of them in Okhema alone, and countless more in Amphoreus. So why them?”
The god of strife thought for a moment, as if debating whether or not to say the reason before letting out a deep sigh.
“Because… because they are the one mortal in all of Amphoreus that makes us remember what it is like to be human.”
Hello this is my First time doing this I was wondering when you are updating the mydei and phainon god au if you are busy please don't rush and have a amazing day
Hi! I intend to update the phaidei god au fic once I come back from Christmas vacation, so until then you'll all have to wait!
Summary: Heartbreak is a natural occurrence for all beings, but that doesn't make it easier to deal with. For you, this means having to deal with walking in on your soon-to-be husband sleeping with another woman in your bed. You mourn what could have been, and curse what is. You pray and pray to the gods with the hope that you can garner some sympathy, only to realize that two gods in particular are more than eager to give you their affections.
Chapter Tags/CWs: god!au, mentions of cheating, vaguely based on the eros and psyche myth, reader is Aglaea's disciple, Mydei and Phainon are together and looking for a third in reader, mentioned Aglanaxa
V. Month of Joy
In the Month of Joy, feasts and festivals are abundant. It is the month where spring cultivation ends, and fishermen are relishing in their bountiful catches. Heavy workloads are nonexistent, as everyone from the holy city of Okhema to the far reaches of Dolos are reveling in the festive atmosphere. Many see this month as the best time of year to start brewing and hold celebrations in honor of the sea goddess Hysilens; though it is debatable on whether or not the goddess encourages these people waking up the next day after being in a drunken stupor.
For you, however, the Month of Joy has an entirely new meaning: the month where you would be wed to the gods of Worldbearing and Strife.
Hyacinthia had told you there was no need to come to the shrine on this day, for Aglaea would send someone to retrieve you and prepare you for the event. But she never said just who would be retrieving you; only that this mystery messenger would get you when the sun’s rays reached the top of the sky, basking the world in noon.
“Well isn’t this a welcomed surprise! Normally all my deliveries aren’t this eager to be sent off,” a cheerful voice purred behind you, much like a cat who has caught its favorite toy. You turned to look behind you to see just who it was who was speaking, but no one was there. “Who goes there? Show yourself to me!” You called out to the emptiness of your home, trying to see whether or not this newcomer was friendly or not.
“Oh calm your jets, little bride. I’m not here to harm you or trick you—though trickery would be quite the way to start off a marriage,” the newcomer chuckled, appearing from the shadows of your living room with a cheshire grin. Of course, it was none other than the Coin of Whimsy, Cifera. Suddenly, Hyacinthia’s hesitation to tell you the identity of the messenger made complete sense. Who would be excited to hear that the one delivering you to your wedding would be the patron goddess of thieves? “I’m just here to get you from point A to point B as part of a deal. And who better than me, the fastest being in Amphoreus, to get you there?”
You paused, thinking about the validity of her claims. On one hand, trusting the goddess of Trickery was a risky move. Many have been led astray by her charms, having their goods stolen along the way. However, on the other hand… You knew of Aglaea’s ties to Cifera. The trickster was practically like a daughter to your patroness. So the claim that this was part of a deal… could it have some truth?
“Alright then… I suppose I have to believe you,” you mumbled, a little less wary now. “You have been spoken of to me by her ladyship, so that too grants you some merit. But this is unheard of for Trickery to aid in a union such as marriage. What deal have you made with my patroness?” That question seemed to shock Cifera, a look of bewilderment on her face. But the look was quickly replaced by a veneer of cocky confidence. “Well, looks like the little birdie is well versed with the internal affairs of the gods. Seems that old Goldweaver isn’t as secretive as I thought,” she chuckled, now standing next to you as she flipped a coin. “But don’t let it get to your head that this is some ‘sentimental’ work. This is a business deal, nothing more.”
Time seemed to slow on its own, your body moving slower than your mind. Everything seemed to elongate, spiraling and spiraling onward, yet you could still hear Cifera’s voice all the same as before. “Consider yourself lucky, little birdie. No mortal in almost a thousand years has gotten close to witnessing my coin land on heads or tails,” her voice called out, your body being dragged along as time began to speed up. “So don’t get an inflated sense of ego like others do. That would take out everything I find interesting about you.”
The world around sped up, up, and up, until finally coming to a resounding halt. It took you a moment to regain your balance, but a steady hand was there to keep you standing. “Welcome to your brand new life, little birdie,” Cifera called out to you, already lounging against a tree with a bold nonchalance. “You might like it, might not. To me, it makes no difference what choices are available. It only matters that it’s you making them.”
It took you a moment to gain a better understanding of your surroundings, getting some of the bearings little by little. From the looks of it, you seemed to be somewhere on the borders of Castrum Kremnos and Ohkema, the greenery a telling sign. Only on the border of the Holy City and the Capital of Might did the trees come in blends of verdant greens and deep reds, mingling like the two cities did often despite the history of unrest. It was a calming sight, one that many would see in their travels, but never you, who stayed within the borders of Okhema living your quiet little life.
Yet here you were now. In that very same expansive borderland, in front of a sprawling villa with enough land to frolic in for days on end. The place where, presumably, your two husbands would be waiting for you.
“In a way, I suppose this is my own doing. I made that prayer not just to Aglaea, but to Mydeimos and Khaslana as well. I prayed for this moment, and now it has come for me,” you sighed softly, setting your sights on the villa. “Whatever the means, this prayer was answered. If that means I am to be wed because my goddess thinks that these two gods will care for me, then I will only hope that it is true. And if not, then I will make sure the gods will know of my displeasures, regardless if they wish to hear so or not.”
That answer seemed to please the Coin of Whimsy, that signature grin appearing on her face once more. “Well, looks like the little birdie has talons after all. You may just survive this yet.” With those hopefully encouraging words, Cifera’s coin flipped once more, and she disappeared in a blur.
You could only sigh, shaking your head. To understand Trickery’s inner workings was like trying to understand why dromases yearned to dive their heads in the sand when they wished to not work, so you wouldn’t bother. Rather, you focused on the current situation at hand.
Slowly, you walked to the entrance of the villa, your hand resting on its wooden door gently as you took a moment. Behind this door, you didn’t know if your future husbands would be waiting for you with open arms, or if there would be nothing but an empty house. On one hand, the thought of loneliness is one you’ve become accustomed to over these past months, its grip on you firm and solid like the claws of Terravox. On the other hand… you yearned for company. You yearned for the presence of another, yearned to be touched and admired and loved. So who would blame you for being hopeful?
You slowly pushed the door open, looking into the interior.
The inside was no tomb or empty abode, but an actual home. A real home where it felt lived in and loved, graced with memories of laughter and soft silences. There was a quiet warmth in the air as you stepped in, the kind that permeates into a home over the years. Blankets were strewn over the sofas and long chairs, the fireplace still had a slight glow to it despite it being such a warm month, and three cups of what looked like honeybrew were laid out upon the small table within the living room. You obviously knew that Mydeimos and Khaslana were lovers, everyone did, but the addition of a third cup of honeybrew…They had been thinking of you for some time.
“Ah, Lord Mydeimos’s and Lord Khaslana’s bride is here,” a soft voice called to you, somewhere from behind you once more. “Don’t scare them, little butterflyfish. It would be rude to startle them the day before their wedding, lest you want them to join you in the River of Souls early,” a calmer voice responded, like the waves of Styxia washing across the shore.
You swiveled your head every which way, trying to find the owners of the voices before coming gaze to gaze with them. You had recognized Hysilens, the Chalice of Plenty, well enough—a frequent attendee of Aglaea’s banquets during this month of hers. It was expected, if not normal. But the other woman next to her, shorter with purple hair and a dress that seemed to move like a skeleton… you have never met her before.
“Please, forgive us for being so secret with your arrival, little koifish. We didn’t know what time Cifera would be delivering you, so we had planned to make the arrangements as she brought you,” Hysilens bowed her head gently, motioning for the woman behind her to introduce herself. “Little butterfly fish, don’t you think you should introduce yourself to the bride you are to be the maid of?”
The young woman looked surprised for a moment, but nonetheless gave a polite nod. “Of course. My name is Castorice, the Hand of Shadow, and I am to be one of your bride’s maids,” she said softly, her hands clasped together in a polite pose. Ah, so Death was to be one of your bride’s along with the Ocean. It would explain why they were here in the villa, most likely to prepare you for the wedding tomorrow.
“My Ladies, I didn’t expect you to be my bride’s maids—though I am incredibly honored you are,” you bowed your head in respect, taking down the shawl you wore. “But, if I may ask one question…?”
Hysilens seemed to already know what you wanted to ask. “You’re wondering where Khaslana and Mydeimos are, aren’t you? It’s their house, they should be here, afterall,” she sighed, shaking her head with a light smile. “Those two are notorious superstition believers, little koifish. They think it would bring bad luck for them to see their bride before the day of the wedding, and for you to see them in their godly state rather than the mortal forms we present ourselves as when walking the lands. So, they have made the choice to hide themselves away until the day of the wedding, giving you privacy as needed.”
It was almost… Comical, hearing that two pillars of this world in their own right would be so fearful of an old wives’ tale that they would hide themselves for your safety. But you just couldn’t help but smile at the thought; it made them feel less like mythical beings and more human to you.
“Come, Lady Aglaea is waiting for us in your room to get you fitted for the dress, and we all know she doesn’t like to be off schedule,” Castorice called out to you both, guiding you up the stairs where the next hours would be spent preparing you for this one moment of your life.
“We should be with them, you know.” Mydeimos grunted as he blocked an attack from his husband’s sword once more, a routine action that had long been seared into his skin. “They deserve to have us by their side as they get ready for our wedding, Deliverer.”
Khaslana, however, seemed quite distracted with the task at hand, the swings of Dawnmaker cleaving through the air as though it were butter. Gone was the elegance and chivalry of his usual form, replaced with deepseated determination and focus. “I’m sure they’ll be fine, Mydeimos. They’re more resilient than you’d think,” he grunted, almost as though he had repeated this very conversation in his head countless times. “They need normalcy, for but a few moments. Not two gods lording over them…”
Mydeimos scoffed, gripping Dawnmaker’s blade mid-swing and pulling Khaslana closer. “You’re overthinking again. Doing that on the battlefield will get you killed, you know,” he rumbled in his lover’s ear, backing him up against the training ground railing. To the untrained eye, it would appear that the two gods were deadlocked, two forces of equal strength coming to an impasse. But to the few who truly knew them, this was far more intimate than it seemed. “And it will not do you any good in marriage, either. Didn’t I tell you this on our first wedding day, or did your nerves get to you then as well?”
Khaslana only gave Mydeimos a smile; a feral little expression as he looked up into Strife’s golden eyes. “I believe you did, Mydeimos. I also believe you were quite the hypocrite, considering that you were fretting an awful lot about whether I’d be safe as I attended to my duties the day before we wed. Or was I mistaken in confusing worry with excitement?”
The Lance of Fury only scoffed, leaning in closer as he kept Khaslana pinned under his grip. “That is not what I mean and you know it, Deliverer,” he rumbled, his grip on Dawnmaker tightening just slightly. “You think our little dove is weak, unable to withstand the sight of the divinity of our forms. But they have already gazed into divinity, and they are more resilient than you give them credit for. We are not lording over them if we were to be present with them on the day before the biggest moment of their life.”
Khaslana paused, his mind taking in his husband’s words. Had he been so blinded by his own fears that he had failed to consider that maybe—just maybe—you were craving their attention as much as you did theirs? Were you truly as unafraid of the gods as Mydeimos claimed?
"I understand your fears, Khaslana, for I too harbor them in my mind. But those fears… they cannot control us. They cannot be allowed to ruin what we so desperately reach out for,” Mydeimos sighed, pulling away and releasing his grip. “For our own sanity and theirs, we must acknowledge the truth, Deliverer: our bride is far more capable than this world gives them credit for. And because of this, we should at least be with them in spirit before such a large day. Think about it, won’t you?”
As the god of Strife turned away, the Deliverer stayed there. His husband was, once again, right;their bride wasn’t a feeble little creature who would burn at the sight of the gods. They had already met them once before, what would change if they met again?
Yes, that’s how he would ease both of their fears. The Deliverer and the Lance of Fury may be too nervous to visit the bride, but Phainon and Mydei weren’t.
Summary: Heartbreak is a natural occurrence for all beings, but that doesn't make it easier to deal with. For you, this means having to deal with walking in on your soon-to-be husband sleeping with another woman in your bed. You mourn what could have been, and curse what is. You pray and pray to the gods with the hope that you can garner some sympathy, only to realize that two gods in particular are more than eager to give you their affections.
Chapter Tags/CWs: god!au, mentions of cheating, vaguely based on the eros and psyche myth, reader is Aglaea's disciple, Mydei and Phainon are together and looking for a third in reader, mentioned Aglanaxa
IV. Month of Cultivation
The fourth month of the year is the beginning of spring cultivation, where farmers busy themselves with tilling the soil and sowing seeds to harvest crops, offering labor as tribute to the god of earth Terravox. Dromases frenzy themselves with excitement, trotting to and fro in their joy. A month for sowing new beginnings, and harvesting the rewards in turn.
However, with the coming of this new month, it seems that farmers and dromases are not the only ones who vibrate with energy.
The winds carry with them the scent of spring, the sun casting gentle rays onto the soil as the birds chirped and sang. In her gracious kindness and generosity, the goddess of the sky Hyacinthia revels in this peace. It was days like this that were her favorite; serene and sunny, and ever giving in its bounties. But as much as she wished to simply enjoy this day, Hyacinthia had other duties to attend to. Duties that, at least in her eyes, were far more beautiful than this lovely day.
“I wonder, where could a disciple of romance be on such a brilliant spring day?” Hyacinthia wondered aloud, her wings fluttering gently as she flew over the farmlands of Ohkema. The Month of Cultivation was well underway, with farmers and herbalists alike hard at work to gain a successful harvest come next month. The Eye of Twilight knew that you would most likely not be actively in the fields at work, but rather in the market stalls perusing the wares of vendors coming far and wide across Amphoreus. Perhaps you would be gazing at flowers brought in from Carmitis, the patron city of the goddess of romance? Or maybe you would be perusing parchments from Hyperborea, the realm of under the goddess of law?
Regardless, it didn’t take long for Hyacinthia to find you, taking joy in observing a merchant from Ladon show off her prized pheasants. “A fine beauty, she is,” the merchant woman stated confidently, her chest puffed out in pride just like her most precious bird. “Feathers more beautiful than any peacock from Carmitis, with talons sharper than any eagle from the Eye of Twilight or Castrum Kremnos! No other fowl or pheasant comes close, I assure it!”
Hyacinthia could only giggle at the woman’s boastful statements. She was not the type of goddess to smite mortals on whim or even grow angry when she heard them compare themselves to the divine, but that did not mean that she was opposed to teasing them just ever so slightly.
Gently, she lowered herself onto solid ground, folding her wings in behind her with a soft hum as she appeared behind you. “More beautiful than a peacock from Carmitis? My, what a stunning bird she must be then to best even the most divinely chosen bird from the goddess of romance!” Hyacinthia laughed softly, a sound like gentle sunshine and clouds on a day much like this one. The merchant woman, however, seemed to have quite a scare seeing the goddess of the sky appear so suddenly, almost falling back on unsteady feet. “L–Lady Hyacinthia! Oh, please forgive me, I mean no offense to the divine! No other winged creature comes close to the mighty Moonlit Pegasi under your wings!”
The sudden shift in tone gained a chuckle from you, though you did your best to hide it behind a hand out of consideration for the merchant. But despite the change, Hyacinthia merely gave that same gentle smile. “Please, there is no need to fret, I merely jest! Though I am certain that your pheasants are the most beautiful and fierce in all of Amphoreus,” the goddess reassured. “Though as much as I’d like to talk more about your birds, might I borrow this dear customer of yours for a moment?” After reassuring the poor merchant she wasn’t going to be smited, Hyacinthia led you to a more quiet area of the market, sitting you down with a soft sigh.
“I must say, the markets are quite congested this time of year… I'm afraid that Little Ica won't have enough time to get his favorite snacks,” she laughed softly, gazing out at the bustling stalls and pathways. “But that can wait for another day, can't it? Duties need to be attended to first before you can relax, you know.”
You nodded with a hum, joining her in the people watching. “I couldn't agree more, Lady Hyacinthia. It's the one day of this week that I could finally get some time to myself, and not be cooped up in the shrine all day,” you sighed with relief. “It's been a hectic three months, but I'm sure the gods know all about it. It would be hard to miss my prayers, with how often I'm at the shrine and all…”
Hyacinthia only nodded in agreement, a slight shift in her eyes as she watched your expression. “Believe me when I say that we have heard. Aglaea has been wracking her head trying to find a solution to your woes, so much so that all the golden roses in her garden have been quivering in sensing her stress,” the Eye of Twilight murmured, shaking her head with a sigh. “But do not fret! Thankfully, she's gotten a solution that may help!”
That piqued your interest. If your patron goddess had been fretting over you and your troubles in marriage, perhaps things were getting better?
“That's what I've come here to say to you, actually,” Hyacinthia stood up, her attitude seemingly becoming more duty bound and serious, but still holding that same spring-like joy. “Under the grace of the Chrysalis of Gold, you have been chosen to be the bride to the Worldbearer Khaslana and the Lance of Fury Mydeimos. Through this union will your woes never prosper, and your worries forever fade into the Veil of Evernight.”
You paused for a moment, the world seemingly freezing with you. Did– Did Lady Hyacinthia just say that you were to be married to two gods?
For a moment, the world seems to rush back into frame all at once, only now just coming back into play. You didn’t even notice Hyacinthia moving to gently sit you back down, a look of concern on her face as she looked over you. “Steady now, alright? I know that this is very odd news, and it might take a toll on you…” Hyacinthia said gently, a soothing hand on your back as she sat down next to you. “This was the one way that your goddess has thought to solve your woes, and the one way to make sure you would never be neglected.”
You took a breath, then another. “You mean to tell me… Lady Aglaea wishes to wed me?” You whispered softly, the shock still palpable in your voice. “But… But I’m damaged. I broke the sanctity of romance when I left my lover, I-I shouldn’t even be given a gift such as marriage to a god let alone two—”
A quiet little chirp resounded beside you, soft fur brushing against your arm. “Ah, it seems Little Ica wants to comfort you,” Hyacinthia smiled gently, patting the top of the pegasus’s head as he pushed against you. “I think Ica knows that, deep down, you haven’t done anything to spite the gods. That man you were with was the one in the wrong, wasn’t he? So I don’t think that the gods would punish you for the wrong doings of another. Do you?”
You paused, thinking about her words.
In a way, Hyacinthia was right. How could you be faulted for the sins of another? How could you be blamed for another’s crime? It was the basics of your teachings as one of Aglaea’s disciples, to know that one cannot be blamed for another’s mistakes had they not known. And you certainly did not know that that pathetic excuse of a man would beguile and manipulate you to be blind to his misdeeds. “I… I suppose you are right. I just– I didn’t think my prayers on such a matter would be answered. Lady Aglaea is no doubt swarmed with duties and tribulations, so knowing that she has made this ordained…” You stopped for a moment and thought to yourself, and a slow smile graced your lips. “It is a lovely change in a world so used to no answers.”
The plump little pegasus gave a cheerful little tune, his small wings fluttering rapidly and lifting him into flight to join his long time companion. “I knew you’d understand! Don’t worry about showing up to the shrine to be wed, Lady Aglaea will send someone to come retrieve you from your home when the fifth day of the Month of Joy is upon us,” Hyacinthia announced cheerfully, carrying Ica in her arms and sending a gentle smile your way.
“I wish you, the Deliverer, and the Lance of Fury a wondrous marriage. And that your joys spread on into tomorrow.”
Summary: Heartbreak is a natural occurrence for all beings, but that doesn't make it easier to deal with. For you, this means having to deal with walking in on your soon-to-be husband sleeping with another woman in your bed. You mourn what could have been, and curse what is. You pray and pray to the gods with the hope that you can garner some sympathy, only to realize that two gods in particular are more than eager to give you their affections.
Chapter Tags/CWs: god!au, mentions of cheating, vaguely based on the eros and psyche myth, reader is Aglaea's disciple, Mydei and Phainon are together and looking for a third in reader, mentioned Aglanaxa
III. Month of Evernight
In the Month of Evernight, the sun grows more dimmer than usual. People and creatures alike fall asleep more easily, and their instincts and emotions replace all thoughts and reasons, making tasks more difficult to complete. The new Time has yet to reveal why they had made this so, but it is for certain that the constant fog in your mind is this month’s doing.
For some reason unbeknownst to you, you felt more and more compelled to visit the shrines as of late. You were not necessarily one to be considered a religious zealot, but your loyalty to the goddess of romance was not one to be doubted. Every day, you would tend to her shrine with diligent yet gentle care, assuring that the pristine golden roses were upheld to perfection. But recently, it hasn’t just been Aglaea’s shrine that you cared for—the shrines of the Worldbearer and the Lance of Fury called to you now, eager to be seen and heard. And in your kindness, you granted them the same courtesy your patron goddess received.
It started out as simply maintaining the quartz pillars around them, cleaning the delicate stone with gentle care. But then it evolved into something more attentive, gracing the shrines with offerings and candles just as you would with the goddess of romance.
You couldn’t pinpoint why the shrines now captivated you. You weren’t as religious and devoted as the worshippers of Khaslana, nor were you as much of a warrior as the devotees of Mydeimos. But they seemed to beckon you, coaxing you to them like a siren’s song. The feeling was hardly malicious, too, feeling more like a gentle calling rather than a shout. You suppose that the saying about the Month of Evernight making you become more prone to acting on instinct is true…
You were so steeped in your thoughts as you cleaned the shrine of Strife, you hardly noticed that you had bumped into someone.
“You ought to watch where you’re going, little disciple. Not everyone who comes to this shrine would be as nice as I am,” a low voice rumbled beside you, though despite their words there was no malice in their tone. You looked around, trying to find the owner of the voice that called out to you before having your gaze finally land on them—or rather, his torso. You had to crane your neck up, up, and up just to finally meet his golden gaze, his arms crossed as a look of what appeared to be a mix of both amusement and stoicism graced his features.
You didn’t like to ogle at people—you personally thought it was quite rude to stare—but with this stranger? You could hardly help yourself.
It was like he was blessed by the god of strife himself, firm muscles shaping his body like a living fortress wall. Red markings swirled along his olive skin as though they too lived and breathed, on view for all to see like a proud lion. The descriptive of him being a lion wasn’t far off either, his ash blonde hair tinged with red at the ends like a lion’s mane after gorging itself on a meal. If one were to call this man anything less than divine, you would have rightfully thought them a liar.
You had only just realized that you were most likely staring at him, as foretold by a look of expectancy on the man’s face. “Ah, please forgive me… I was so engrossed with cleaning the shrines that I hardly noticed anyone else was here…” You mumbled softly, still trying rather hard to not stare at the god of a man in front of you. “Had I known, I would’ve just moved out of your way—” The man merely sighed through his nose, shaking his head as he raised a hand to stop you. Oddly enough, you listened to the silent command.
“There is no need for apologies from you, little disciple. I cannot fault someone for being as attentive to the gods as you are. If anything, I should be the one apologizing. As such is custom in Kremnos, I must absolve this conflict,” he said smoothly, holding out a gauntleted hand out for you to take. “Let us first introduce ourselves. I am Mydei of Castrum Kremnos, a warrior of sorts. And you are?”
You paused for a moment, taken aback by Mydei’s courteous behavior. You half expected him to tell you off, or even yell at you for being so foolish to even be near him, but this… It intrigued you very much. And so, you took his hand with a gentle tilt of your head as you told him your name. “I must say, Mydei… as much as I am very intrigued by your offer of wanting to make things right, I couldn’t possibly ask that of you. An honest mistake is an honest mistake, no?” You spoke softly, shaking his hand gently before releasing it. “I think we can both apologize to each other in this instance, and since apologies have already been said, I think we are quite even, don’t you?”
Mydei’s eyes widened ever so slightly, then chuckled. “Quite the diplomat at heart, aren’t you? Alright, I suppose it is even, little disciple. As much as I’d like to contest, I’ve been taught it’s quite rude to deny the wishes of one so beautiful,” he hummed, a barely there smirk as he looked down at you. “Tell me something, though. What would a disciple of Aglaea be doing here, maintaining the shrine of a god so violent and unruly as Strife? I wouldn’t think anyone would wish to be here beside fellow Kremnoans.”
Mydei had a point, you realized. Romance and Strife were two separate ideals, so it wouldn’t make sense for you to be maintaining this shrine. But even as he said that, a thought formed in your head: one that, in your opinion, would have made the god of reason smile down upon you. “You could consider it odd, I suppose. Truthfully speaking, I don’t know what I’m doing here either,” you mumbled softly, moving to the shrine to gently light a candle. “It is often said that Romance and Strife go hand in hand, I suppose, two sides of the same coin. Strife is a part of Romance, and Romance is always followed by Strife. But to me, the two needn’t be separate halves of a whole. So, I clean the shrine just as I would my Ladyship’s. For the two are inseparable.”
The Kremnoan stayed silent, as if digesting this newly given thought. “I never took you to be both a diplomat and a philosopher, little disciple. Are you certain Cerydra and Anaxagoras haven’t blessed you as well?” Mydei chuckled, shaking his head as he moved to stand by you by the shrine. “But then again, I suppose I haven’t seen many people be as open minded as you are when it comes to Strife. Too many think that the Lance of Fury is only a burden of war and rage, that it is endless carnage…” Mydei seemed to go quiet for a moment, then shook his head once more as he looked at you. “But you? You seem to know that endless strife is not what I– I mean what Mydeimos wants. You understand that strife is everywhere, but it is up to the individual to brave it. It is up to Mydeimos to be the strife that this world needs, so that others may be at peace.”
A soft bell rang throughout the halls of the collective temple, signifying the beginning of the Lucid Hour. You sighed, getting up from the shine and dusting off your robes. “That must be the lunch bell… Has it really been that long since I started cleaning?” You wondered out loud, moving to face Mydei with a gentle smile. “Nonetheless, it was lovely talking to you, Mydei. Although, I must ask you… Your name is very similar to that of Lord Mydeimos. Is there a connection between the two of you?”
Mydei froze, looking up at you like a stag caught. “Well… My mother named me after him. Says that I was blessed by him to be a strong warrior one day, and I suppose she was right,” he merely stated, getting up with you and gently offering you his arm. “Let me walk you to lunch. As repayment for earlier.”
Well, you certainly weren’t going to deny that.
“I’m terribly sorry, of what part of ‘let me work my magic’ did the two of you not comprehend? It’s like I say something into one of your ears and it goes out the other!” Aglaea chastised, her hands on her hips like a mother giving a stern talking to her children. And in a way, she certainly was; both Khaslana and Mydeimos stood before her like children who had broken a priceless artifact, shuffling on their feet with shame as they couldn’t stand to look at her. It mattered not if these were gods of unfathomable power, for when faced with Aglaea’s wrath, any god could feel small under her gaze.
“Not to even mention that you two have started to practically buzz with energy now since they’re cleaning your shrines. Do I need to tell Hyacinthia to ease the winds guiding them to your altars? It certainly seems like it!” Aglaea huffed, pinching the bridge of her nose with a forlorn sigh. “I swear, the things I do for romance to persevere…”
Khaslana pouted slightly, moving to attempt to placate the goddess. “Look, we’re really sorry, Aglaea… We just— we can’t stand by anymore! It’s obvious that they’re getting lonelier and lonelier by the days, and I don’t know how much more of it I can take,” he pleaded his case, looking down at his lifelong mentor with a gentle frown. “Both Mydeimos and I agree on one thing: we don’t know how long we can last waiting for them when we both know we can care for them. It’s torture.”
Mydeimos nodded in agreement, albeit it was less convincing with how he tried to seem a bit smaller in the wake of Aglaea’s stern anger. “He has a point, Aglaea. I did my best to follow the plan as well, I truly did. But talking with them today… Never in my long, long life have I seen a soul so understanding and yet so neglected in their wants and needs. I can tell it’s eating away at them from the insides, and we all know what a sickness loneliness is. Would you want that for your disciple, or even yet: would you want that for Anaxa?”
Aglaea paused, the comment catching her off guard. But she knew, within her golden blood, that Mydeimos was right. Loneliness was a sickness, a sickness that she combatted for the lovers of the world every day and night. What kind of patron goddess would she be if she couldn’t allow her own disciple to overcome this disease?
The romance goddess sighed, shaking her head before turning to the two other gods. “Alright. You both have a point. I would be a terrible patron if I let my disciple suffer through this plague any longer. Tomorrow, the Month of Cultivation will start. What better time to issue the start of a blossoming romance than at the start of spring?” Aglaea chuckled, moving to gaze over the clouds with a soft gaze, watching you walk about the market. “Cifera has already shown she’s ready to enact the plan, and whether or not my disciple knows that you two are the aliases Phainon and Mydei will be in the hands of fate. That is, if Tribios is willing to make it fate.”
The two gods seemed to light up with joy. At long last, their beloved will be in their arms? It was a feeling of joy unlike anything felt before. “At long last… I might as well get their room prepared then, shouldn’t I? They deserve only the best, after all,” Khaslana beamed, the halo behind him glowing just a bit brighter. “Though… maybe they’d like to sleep in our bed, Mydeimos?”
The god of strife only sighed, rolling his eyes at his lover’s antics. “I doubt it. Do you know anyone who would want to sleep in the bed of two strange beings who just show up into their lives and say ‘we want you to marry us’?” Mydeimos snorted, crossing his arms with a slight smirk. “Perhaps in time, Deliverer. But let them get used to us, ease into being with us. They are still mortal, after all.”
Khaslana laughed sheepishly, a faint blush on his cheeks. “Well yeah… but when the time comes, it won’t be for long. I think that would be quite the happy ending.”
Summary: Heartbreak is a natural occurrence for all beings, but that doesn't make it easier to deal with. For you, this means having to deal with walking in on your soon-to-be husband sleeping with another woman in your bed. You mourn what could have been, and curse what is. You pray and pray to the gods with the hope that you can garner some sympathy, only to realize that two gods in particular are more than eager to give you their affections.
Chapter Tags/CWs: god!au, mentions of cheating, vaguely based on the eros and psyche myth, reader is Aglaea's disciple, Mydei and Phainon are together and looking for a third in reader, mentioned Aglanaxa
II. Month of Balance
In the Month of Balance, it is said the people’s routines become more even and consistent, being more eager to sign treaties and contracts alike. Their moods balanced, their judgement fair, for the old titan Talanton and the new goddess Cerydra have given this month true equilibrium.
The same cannot be said for you, for your routine has become far from even and consistent.
This month was supposed to be the month where you would come out as a married being. Where you were supposed to revel in the joys of finding your other and be content in starting a new life. Instead, it was like you were a shell of your former self. None of the things that have brought you joy before seemed to help you in your attempts to quell the heartache, and it seemed that was going to be the new normal for quite some time.
At least that is what you thought for a long while, before the winds carried a scent of change.
While Okhema didn't have such harsh winters like that of Aidonia, that didn't mean it was completely free of the occasional flurry and sprinkling of snow across the store stalls and pathways. The quietness of the small—albeit quick—snow shower brought with it a sense of resigned content to you as you perused the wares of each stall. You were thinking that perhaps, just perhaps, you were finally getting back into your old routines, and you gave a quick prayer of thanks to the goddess of law.
“Ah, excuse me, but I believe you might have dropped this, stranger?”
You snap out of your trance, turning your head to the left then the right to find out who had spoken to you. Your eyes settled on a figure before you, radiant like the sun but gentle in equal measure. An almost neatly kept mop of snow white hair sat atop his head, and eyes that shone brighter than the sapphire waters of Styxia. He wore a kind yet unsure smile, as though he debated on just giving you the supposed lost item and leaving or attempting to strike up a conversation with you.
“I noticed that this fell from your person as you were looking at the stalls. I think it's quite important to you, no?” The man held out a small satchel woven from faded netherblooms; common flowers in Aidonia that when withered, their connection to Death severs, leaving them as merely pretty decorations.
“Ah, thank you— I was so absorbed in my own world, I didn't realize I had dropped it,” you blinked, taking the satchel from his held out hand gently and feeling an uncanny warmth from him as your fingertips grazed his own. “Thank you once again, Mr….?”
The man smiled for a moment, giving you a quick yet respectful bow. “Phainon, kind stranger. No need for Mr., just my name will do. And it was truly nothing, I simply saw someone in need of help is all,” he gently let go of your hand, looking down at you with a soft yet lopsided grin. “And yours? So that I may match the face to the name, of course.”
You told him your name, gently putting away the satchel with care and sighing with relief. “Thank you once again, Phainon. I cannot say if this is a gift from the gods given recent events, or simply a coincidence. But nonetheless, I'm grateful,” you smiled softly, a shiver running through you as you clutched your shawl around you tighter.
“You seem quite cold... Perhaps I can give you my coat while I walk you home?” Phainon asked softly, a look of concern in his eyes and a slight pout on his face as he noticed your shiver, his hand extended to you. “It wouldn't sit right with me to allow you to just walk home by yourself in this weather.”
You paused for a moment, thinking about the offer. On one hand, the idea of this man whom you've only just met walking you home sounded a bit odd. On the other hand… you were quite lonely. It's been a while since you had someone walk with you, eventually if it was for a moment…
Perhaps you would allow yourself this one little solace to you.
“That sounds lovely,” you smiled, taking his hand gently and allowing him to place his coat onto you. Despite the clear oversize, it was quite warm, the leather insulating heat and warming up your chilled bones. It faintly smelled of sunflowers after a rainshower, the slight scent of petrichor soothing to you.
“A being as beautiful as you shouldn't walk alone, you know. Don't you have anyone to accompany you?” Phainon cheekily asked, a lopsided smile on his face as he walked you to your home. The question alone would have been innocent enough, in other circumstances. But with you, it only awakened those painful memories once more, a slight pang of heartache shooting through you.
“Ah… not anymore, no,” you said softly, looking down at the pavement with a quiet reservation as you neared your home. It was a thick silence, the kind that could be pierced with a spear before you spoke again. “I used to, but we're no longer together. He decided that we're not the right fit while we were engaged, and… sought to be with someone else.”
Phainon went silent for a bit. You didn't notice it, but there was a slight glare in his eyes as you mentioned your past lover. Surely you were merely jesting, right? No man would be insane enough to possibly cheat on a gem like you, much less while engaged to what he thought was the pinnacle of beauty.
“Ah, I see… Well, if you ask me, I think he's made a grave mistake,” Phainon huffed slightly, gently taking up your hand once more. “I may not know you all that well, but even from just spending a few moments walking with you, I think that you are a lovely person to be around.”
You could almost smile at that, how this man was so adamant on your behalf. “Well that's a very kind thing to say, Phainon. Perhaps if he were more chivalrous like you, I would have been more keen to stay with him,” you sighed softly, taking your hand away from his. “But I suppose not everyone can be so kind.”
At the utterance of your words, Phainon's heart sank. The amount of resignation and sheer tiredness in your voice made him ache. How can someone be so beautiful, so radiant, and yet have so much pain and heartache within their being. “Well, I suppose that it can't always be true. But just know, you can certainly guarantee that there's at least one or two people in this world who would think you deserve everything,” Phainon said softly, walking you to your door with a guiding hand.
“And I think they'd give everything to meet you and cherish you.”
“You can't be serious, Deliverer. What was your plan, simply walk them home and hope they'd fall for you?” Mydeimos scoffed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the rim of the baths. “I expected better, considering that you and I have been wed for centuries now.”
Khaslana—Phainon—sighed gently, his shoulders slumping as he sank deeper into the warm bath. “I did not think they would just fall in love with me, I just did something nice for them! It was just an act of kindness…” He huffed softly, closing his eyes with a slight pout. “If anything, I did it because they deserve something nice to happen to them.”
The god of strife sighed, placing a gentle hand on his lover's shoulder. “I know you wanted to do something nice for them. But at this time, we need to go slowly. They are fresh out of heartbreak, and as much as I'd like to comfort them and hold them in my arms… we cannot do that just yet.”
“I know we need to go slowly, Mydeimos. I just– I can't sit idly by knowing that they could be here with us to cherish them, rather than alone and reminded of him every time they see a couple put in the market,” Khaslana whispered, his golden eyes solemn and steeped in thought. “What if we tried something different? Greeting them in our own way, like mortals do?”
Mydeimos only chuckled, shaking his head with a sigh. “You know as much as I’d love to do that, Aglaea is a stickler for making her plans go right. Just you appearing to them could’ve thrown things off balance had you stayed long enough,” he shook his head, getting up from the warm baths and wrapping a towel around his waist. “As much as I merely tolerate Cifera, even I can’t deny that the trickster has her ways, especially if it means getting Aglaea off her back. We’ll just have to wait and see, Khaslana.”
The Deliverer sighed, almost pouting slightly; an odd yet common sight upon the Worldbearer’s face. “Alright… Just know that I’m not as good at waiting as people think I am. Not even in this case, as trustworthy Aglaea is,” he mumbled, moving to look out the window of the baths as the sky gave way to night. For once, the god appeared less holy and more man, his eyes filled with longing.
“Because I don’t know how long I can wait for them to be in my arms.”
don't put reader insert garbage in normal ship tags <3
Hey pookie, so I dont know if you read the tags of the fic, but the fic is Reader×Mydei×Phainon. If you dont like it, you can always not read the fic or (the easiest solution) filter out what tags you see ❤️ thank you
I also think its so fucking funny that you said this on anonymous knowing that you couldn't say it outright cus you were in the wrong. Like the additional tags literally state its Phainon and Mydei looking for a third LMAO
don't put reader insert garbage in normal ship tags <3
Hey pookie, so I dont know if you read the tags of the fic, but the fic is Reader×Mydei×Phainon. If you dont like it, you can always not read the fic or (the easiest solution) filter out what tags you see ❤️ thank you
☆☆ Content: ( au: post - super hero, friends with benefits, implied size difference, oral - male receiving )
☆☆ Warning: ( M / 18+. MINORS DNI. explicit language )
☆☆ A/N: I can't believe I haven't written spicy broly since November, now he out here getting "foodie calls"
You don’t know how you got roped into this cycle of feeding saiyans. There was no obligation for you to do it like Bulma and Chi Chi, but it quickly became a regular thing and at least twice a month you had the three showing up at your home after training waiting to be fed. It all started with their new addition and your new mutual friend, Broly. You quickly became acquainted and whatever you chose to label your loose commitment, you grew more familiar with him than any other man you’ve known as “just a friend”. Regardless, you accepted this cook role for what it was if it meant you got to see more of Broly. Certainly, this was his excuse to see more of you. You even found yourself planning out meals for their next visit to flex your cooking skills.
There was a language of love in cooking for others who enjoyed it, and it shined in your determination to awe them for the next time. Delving into recipes from the common modern cuisine to some from your cultural background. Sometimes comparing your own meals to the others often made you hesitant to try bolder recipes, however. Bulma can produce high-quality and multi-course meals at the snap of her finger, enough to feed them for months at a time. And Chi Chi’s a virtuoso with creating unique, hearty, and delicious home cooking from scratch, able to use all her resources to satisfy the hungriest of warriors. They’ve also been doing this longer, you have to remind yourself.
But you’ve never gotten criticism from either one of the saiyans intending to bash your skills, only from how quickly certain portions can disappear without a ready refill from Vegeta and Goku.
Broly never complained, he accepted everything you could give him with quiet contentment and simply ate his share of the large portions. It’s hard not to notice when the other two are so vocal about wanting more, so you just made sure to give Broly a little extra here and there. A polite thanks is given in return when you refill his plate before it empties. You don’t know exactly where he came from, other than Goku describing it as “repugnant”, but it was nice to know that someone capable of such frightful powers still came with his manners. He may have been the biggest saiyan you’ve ever seen, but he was without a doubt the most soft-spoken and polite, an amusing change from Goku’s free-and-easy demeanor and Vegeta’s snobbish persona.
You used to think the sex would help bring Broly out of his shell (it did wonders for Vegeta’s personality), knowing he is locked in this mundane routine of physical and mental training, but it may have just made him more docile. Perhaps he mistook it as more training for his emotions. It did make it easier to talk about with him, at least.
You eventually left the three to finish chatting up about their day and finish up the last of the food, returning to the kitchen to start cleaning the dishes. The only downside to their company was being left alone to clean up the mess so you figured you’d get a headstart. You weren’t left alone for long, however, a sudden large hand on your shoulder almost jolting you out of your skin from Broly’s quiet approach. You laugh off your scare and quickly take notice of the timid, yet distressed frown in his features, realizing it was there before he accidentally surprised you. Did you miss something over their mealtime?
“Oh, hey. What’s the matter?” You asked, concerned about the reason behind this change from his normal demeanor. Based on what you did tune into from their chatting, you could think of one reason this may be. “Bad training session?”
“No.” Broly paused, then looked further disappointed by his answer. “Not…really.” He corrected. They couldn’t stop talking about Goku and Vegeta’s exhibition while they ate, but Broly and Goku sparred too. Along with its abrupt end, it never came up for conversation. Had he not almost lost control, maybe things would have ended differently today. He would have a nice story to share with you on his progress instead.
It was truly an experience to be on the spectator side of a fight for once and Broly was moved to try to emulate the other two saiyans’ ability to maintain their power as they fought, however he couldn't overlook his lack of dominance over his strength and be ashamed. Being unable to control his power even after a couple of years of training with Goku made him feel like he was missing something in his lessons. He's improved dramatically, but still so much is left to learn.
“Did you…lose focus again?” You asked, halting your cleaning entirely to look at him. Broly nods softly.
“Only for a moment.” He admitted. Even for just a brief instance of a slip-up where he caught himself, he wanted it to sound better than it was, how it made him feel. In search of that relief, you were more than receptive to his troubles and willing to help.
"Do you need help with ‘focusing’ again?" You inquired further, a sincere concern with a suggestive undertone he did not miss. In fact, he hoped for it. With nerves building in the base of his chest, Broly swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded at you again.
You smiled at him, charmed by his ability to say so much with his actions than words. And still so careful and shy about approaching you for your “help” after doing this a couple of times already. You quickly felt your insides come alive, motivated by the decadent impulses that would consume you from here on. Indulging saiyans is truly a delight you never thought you wanted until you had it.
Calmly drying your hands, you close the space between the two of you and hold up your hands invitingly. At the ready, Broly follows along. His larger hands press into yours where your fingers interlock. He watches you close your eyes and take a deep breath, doing the same.
“Where am I?” You asked him and you feel the little squeeze of his hands around yours.
“You’re here.” He says, his heart skipping a beat but another deep breath eases its rhythm. Your smile grows hearing him do so and you reopen your eyes to look up at him.
“Where are you?” You follow up, giving his hands a squeeze in return.
“Here..” Spoken gently, Broly opening his eyes, finding himself lulled to the familiar relaxed state of being with a floaty sensation, yet his senses were so keen and sparked by the body before him. Then his eyes locked onto yours and he allowed himself to fall into his urges. Giving in only to those that could desire the warmth of your body, all others drowned out in the placid state of his mind. A shade of pink rises in his tan cheeks remembering the acute sensations of you, leaning down to kiss your lips the way he learned. He moved more confidently than he has before, more controlled, which you appreciated.
It’s not exactly the place you want to do this, but you doubt the other two would be in a hurry to move after putting away all that food. Urgency was the key still as Broly would have to return to Lord Beerus’ planet after this. You freed one of your hands to cup his chin, basking in the sweet kisses heating up between you as he fills his hand with your face as well. Deepening the kiss. His unspoken neediness reared itself quickly when you found your backside bumped against the counter, bound in the small space with his body pressing closer to you. A mess waiting to happen if you knock over the stack of dishes. So you opt for something else.
His pelt brushes over your nose when you got on your knees in front of him, the mixed scent of his musk from training and the last time you cleaned it for him filling the air around your head. Alluring and rugged, you couldn’t help taking a moment to let it intoxicate you. Half of your face disappeared beneath his pelt as you kissed along the tent on his formfitting pants, feeling it flinch in return. Your eyes peer up at him, checking in. Broly is slightly hunched over to watch you, eyes darkened and face glowing with his desire.
"I'm here." He reassures you, encouraging you to continue for more. He sees your eyes smile back at him and it felt like his heart was flipping in his chest in anticipation of what was coming next. You pulled the purple fabric free of Ba’s ear and down the bulge before you, freeing his hard cock as it hung erect above your face.
The size of it never failed to impress you, the mere fullness of his girth and its strong length bearing its weight. One could easily be lost in staring at it just by how intense it looked and only the brave like yourself could find how sensitive it truly was. That had to be your favorite part. You give the exposed head a kiss before you grab him at the base of his length and rub your flattened tongue across the tip. Broly took in a sharp, deep breath once your lips wrapped around him, falling past his lips with the shaky heat from his chest. His eyes softened at the touch, fighting his instincts to close them so he can keep them on you. This was where he needed his control the most, when you trusted him to hold his focus. He’d bite his lip bloody and bury his nails into the palm of his hand before he would let himself hurt you.
But it felt so good, the warmth of your mouth wrapped around the head of his cock, suckling around the sensitive glans and working your way further down the length with your hand coming the opposite way. It sent a shiver all the way up his spine as he leaned his hips into you, his voice creeping out of his slacked jaw. You truly enjoyed the way your mouth felt opening up to his size. It was easier for now, but you knew the further this went the more trouble it would be to hold it in your mouth as you were, let alone slide it as deep as you could.
Broly came with a little trick you never seen before and made you curious if all saiyans did it, but as fully erect as he was, he was far from his true size. With a strong hand cupping the end of the counter and the other on the nearby wall, you feel him buck against your opened mouth and your eyes look up to him, relaxing your jaw so he would slip free. His cock twitches more excitedly, missing the sensation of you.
"I-I'm here…" Broly breathed heavily. Practically pleading in his lust for you to go on, licking the dryness from his lips.
He does let his eyes close this time when you draw him back past your lips and his head lulls back as a moral vocal groan leaves him. As you picked up your pace, you started to feel his girth swell, expanding your jaw to a more discomforting stretch and you knew he was about to cum. Your one hand and lips couldn’t quite meet in the middle any longer, so you brought your second to add to his pleasure. Slick with your saliva, you switched to pumping the swollen length while you continue to suck only on the sensitive head of his cock, motivated to keep this pace by the lively twitches under your ministrations.
You really gotta stop thinking about Logan too much.
Cw: smut, breeding kink, slight blood kink, creampie, praise kink, porn with plot, knotting (teehee), Wade plays matchmaker, obligatory Colleen Hoover TW for the funsies
You think about Logan too much. You really do.
He was a good person, even if he didn’t believe it himself. And no matter how many times he claimed it was a load of horse shit and piss, he was great with kids. Blind Al appreciated him, calling him a fine man to be around. Wade was thrilled to have someone that he could maim and slash at without worrying about them dying, the little psychopath. And little miss Mary Puppins was always happy to share her spot on the couch with him. And you… Well, you were the closest with Logan. You thought it was because you handed him a case of cigars you had no intent of using any time soon, but Logan always surprised you. No, it wasn’t the cigars you gave him, it was you being the first to treat him as a person.
When Logan came to your universe, you were only eight months into adjusting to living next to your new neighbor (read: unfortunately knowing Wde Wilson since middle school), and now you’ve known Logan for two months. It was Wade who introduced you two, so you supposed you could cut him some slack. You were stopping by at his apartment waiting by the door when Wade and Logan stopped by, and you were… Automatically enraptured by him. Anyone who says they wouldn’t also be was fucking lying in your book. You never met the Logan of this universe, only hearing about him by name, but this Logan… You felt like you needed to go to a church after just looking at him.
Most people would assume it was because he just so happened to be hot, and they would be somewhat right. But that wasn’t the only reason you felt the way you did. No, you felt the way you did because Logan was so breathtakingly truthful. To the point that anyone would think he was just an outright asshole. Well, he can be if you didn’t know him or what he’s been through. But when you get him to open up, when you finally sit down and pop open a cold one while you sit on a fire escape smoking some Cubans? Logan Howlett was just a man.
A man that you may or may not wanted to fuck. Really badly.
The first time the thought crossed your mind was when Wade was recanting where he’d been for those 72 hours (once agin, read: dramatically reenacting him and Logan meeting each other then promptly fighting each other). He was going on about seeing who he thought was this Captain America guy, when Logan let out a short and low chuckle. “Oh, I’m sorry, Peanut. Was my genuine sadness of not seeing what can only be described as a patriotic Brazilian butt lift amusing to you?” Wade pouted, crossing his arms as he looked down at the two of you on the couch.
“Oh, it’s funny, bub. Funny how the son of a bitch got himself killed, but still fuckin’ funny,” Logan snorted, popping open another beer. Fucking Christ, you could see the veins in his arms bulging just slightly. “Your buddy here got a kick outta Mr. Boy Scout cursin’ up a storm like a damn sailor. I doubt even Wade could pull it off, but maybe the little doll here could do it, Heard ‘em curse out a guy at the bar for less.”
Doll. He called you fucking doll, only two months into knowing you. It shouldn’t have done something to you, but it did.
“Oh that’s not true. The author of this thing would never my little munchkin say such things,” Wade let out a small gasp, clutching his imaginary pearls as he looked at you in shock. “Right honey bun?” You let out a cheeky smile, looking over to Wade with a small giggle. “I might have told a guy to uh… Take a beer bottle, shove it up his ass, and keep it there until it turns back into molten glass. And maybe also choke on it. And maybe take a shit into it and then chug it like a frat boy who did too much molly. Maybe.”
This time, Wade looked like he was about to faint. And he did.
“Well shit, doll. I’ve been tryin’ to get him to shut the fuck up for almost two months, and you went and did it for me,” Logan let out a low whistle, chuckling to himself as he took another puff of his cigar and swinging one thick arm over the couch. Fucking Christ, you didn’t know how one man’s arm can be the size of your entire thigh. “Thanks for that, I fuckin’owe ya one.” You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, shaking your head as you watched Wade ‘recover’ from fainting. “He’s just being dramatic, I didn’t really do much, honest,” you sighed, leaning into the couch with a smile on your face as you closed your eyes with a short hum. “Wade does that a lot.”
“What, faint? If that’s the case, he should faint more fuckin’ often,” Logan snorted, moving his arm to go behind your back to pass you another beer— Only neither of you knew where the bottle opener was. “Shit, must’ve left it in the kitchen,” you muttered, moving to get up from the couch. “Wait a bit, I can go get it—”
Logan cut you off with a wave of his cigarhand, motioning for you to sit back down. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, doll. Here, give it to me,” Logan huffed, taking the beer in his large hand before popping the cap off with a pop. With his fucking teeth.
You sat there dumbfounded, mouth agape as he passed you the freshly opened bottle with a small smirk. “What, got somethin’ on my face, doll?” Logan chuckled, shaking his head as he went back to watching Wade ramble on about how crude you had been.
Yeah, that was the first time you’ve thought about letting him bend you over.
The second time, Wade wasn’t home. You had tried to drop off a batch of brownies when it was Logan who opened up the door… In nothing but a wife beater and low jeans with a cigar. You think you actually drooled a little just by looking at him.
“Hey, uh— Is Wade home?” You cleared your throat, readjusting your weight from one leg to the other. You could feel Logan looking up and down at you, and you couldn’t tell if it was to judge you on the state of disarray your hair was in… Or if you caught a glimpse of a bit of desire in his eyes as he looked at you as he leaned on the door. “What, whaddya need him for?” Logan grumbled as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Red’s out on a job, and Al’s visitin’ family upstate, so ‘s just me in here.”
“Oh, okay— I can just stop by later if you want–? I know you value your time alone,” You mumbled, trying to look anywhere but his body or face, but fuck it was hard not to. He was built like a damn sculpture crafted by the gods, and who were you to not appreciate? Logan sighed, taking a drag out of the cigar in his hands before letting out a plume of smoke in a long exhale. “Come on in, doll. ‘M not gonna kick ya out or anythin’, you live right across the hall anyway,” He huffed out, moving out of your way and slipping back into the apartment, expecting you to follow. Your eyes followed his gait with every step he took, trailing up to the slight sway in his hips…
Sometimes you think that you’re a bit too horny for your own good.
“Thanks, Logan. I just needed to drop off these brownies for Wade, said he wanted them for the get-together this weekend,” You sighed, grunting slightly as you set down the large basket of brownies before turning over to send him a soft smile. “I’m also going to be guessing you probably won’t be there?”
Logan grunted, smirking slightly as he leaned against the couch. “And why would ya think that, hm? What, think I ain’t the kind of guy to wanna spend time with friends?” He chuckled, looking around seemingly for the ashtray before running down on his luck.
This was the climax of the second time you’ve wanted to fuck Logan. Right as you watched him put out the cigar on his palm, his face contorting into an expression of what looked like— Pleasure? A hint of relief? Whatever it was, it was only there for a moment before it was replaced by his usual scowl. “Course I’ll be there, doll. Wouldn’t miss it, since you and the kid’ll be there. You will be there, right?”
You stood there fumbling over your words, a slow blush creeping up your neck as you finally looked him in the eyes. Despite the scowl, you could see a bit of genuine curiosity in his eyes; a look of slight eagerness and what you thought might’ve been a small smile.
‘Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be there, Logan,” You smiled, crossing your arms over your chest with a soft hum. “And for the record, I’ll have more reason to show up if you let me have some of your whiskey.” At that, Logan barked out a hardy laugh, clutching his stomach as he keeled over. You were a bit confused, until you watched him as he walked over to you slowly, caging you in with his thick arms as he leaned in closely to you. “You can have my whiskey when I’m good and buried, doll. And I’ve already got two hundred and something years under my belt,” He whispered, a smile creeping up to his lips as he backed up from you and walked away to the couch. “You can certainly try to take it from me, darlin’.”
Fuck. This man wasn’t making things easier for you.
The third time was a hard hitter, and you can quote yourself on that.
It was a few days after the get-together, everyone that was involved was happy and content with seeing old friends and making new ones. Laura got to connect with Yukio and Ellie, Remy and Al of all people were playing poker (you couldn’t tell who was winning and who was cheating), and Wade and Vanessa were finally back in the comfortable stages of the long road of getting back together.
But you? Oh, you were too busy thinking about how Logan had been with you at the party.
He practically shadowed you. No matter where you went, he was there to check up on you. Logan was like your personal bodyguard, even though all of the people in the room you trusted more than anything. And even though he wouldn’t admit it to your face when you asked him then, you knew that Logan was enjoying it just as much as you were. Which is why you just decided to ask him after the party.
“So, what was with that whole guard dog act earlier tonight? I wasn’t exactly in a position to get hurt or anything,” you hummed, carefully washing off dishes in the kitchen as Logan leaned against the fridge, watching you like he had been all night. “No, I know you ain’t in any spot to get hurt, doll,” he grumbled, crossing his arms with a grunt. “Just wanted to keep an eye on ya, make sure you were all right, y’know?”
You couldn’t help but smile a bit at that. This rugged, war battered old man worrying about little old you. It would almost be endearing if your mind wasn’t such a fucking whore; it just had to make that one little sentence seem like Logan was into you.
“Well, thanks again for looking out for me, I appreciate it—” A sharp pain shot up your hand, a string of curses leaving your lips as you clutched your bloodied hand. Apparently, you were too busy staring at Logan to notice the very obvious and very big knife in the sink, dribbles of blood slowly dripping down your hand. Logan immediately perked up, smelling the blood the moment its scent hit his nose and gently taking your hand into his. “Here, let me take a look at it, doll,” he mumbles, already handy with the first aid kit and tilting your palm upwards, slowly wiping the wound clean before wrapping a bandage around it. “There, feel any better?”
“Y-Yeah, yeah a little bit better.” you sighed, wincing slightly as you moved your hand around a bit. “Thanks for helping me, I guess I got a bit distracted and slipped up—” Logan cut you off with a short chuckle, still holding your injured hand in his as he moved closer to you. He was practically caging you in at this point, stuck between him and the kitchen counter. “Yeah, doll? And what got ya so distracted, hm?” He hummed lowly, bracing his weight against the counter with one hand. “What’s goin’ on in that pretty lil’ head of yours?”
You could feel your face grow hot, doing everything you could to not look him in the eye. “W-Well, I was just— Y’know, thinking about things—” you stumbled over your words, letting out a short gasp as you felt your hand being let go in turn for Logan to tilt your chin up to face him. “Look at me when I talk to you, doll. Wanna see that pretty face,” He rumbled, his face so close to yours and yet not close enough. “Now, tell me again without the bullshit. What got ya so distracted that you cut your hand and made me almost go fuckin’ crazy from the smell of your blood?”
God forgive you for being so weak minded, but what were you supposed to do when Logan looked at you like that? When he looked down at you like he was going to fucking eat you right there on the kitchen counter and save the rest of you for bed?
You were about to open your mouth to answer him, drawing in a soft breath before you heard the apartment door open with a loud thud. “Oh sugar bear, Daddy’s hooome!” Wade’s voice rang out, followed by the characteristic troubled breathing of Mary Puppins. You looked back up at Logan, who almost looked like he was going to curse Wade out and tear him a new one, or at the very least try. He sighed, looking down at you with a haze in eyes as he took his hand off your chin and backed away. “We ain’t done yet, doll. I still expect you to tell me sooner or later,” he growled softly, moving out the kitchen to shout at Wade to keep it down, and leaving you in the kitchen more soaked than ever.
It would be almost a month before you would give Logan an answer.
It wasn’t because you didn’t know the answer. No, you know why you were distracted when you were talking to Logan. It’s the same reason why you went through almost two different vibrators within the last two months of knowing the bastard. You were distracted because everytime you looked at him, all you could think about was how he would feel pressed up against you. How his rough hands would feel gliding against your soft skin as he picked you up and—
“Helloooo, Earth to munchkin,” Wade waved his hand in front of your face, a slight pout on his lips. “Whatcha thinkin’ bout in there, hon?”
You sighed, waving off his hand from your face and focusing on reality. “It’s nothing, Wade, really. Don’t worry about it,” you mumbled, resting your hands on the bar counter to prevent yourself from fidgeting. Wade, unfortunately, caught wind of your bullshit and decided to pry deeper. “Oho, I know whatcha thinkin’ bout, you dirty whore. You’re thinkin’ bout Wolvie again, aren’t you?” He teased, smirking as he gave you some sort of all knowing look. “Been eager to get into his britches, haven’t you?”
“What? No, no, that is not what I’ve been thinking about,” you scoffed, shaking your head. “I’m just— Thinking about things. That’s all.”
Wade let out a long ‘mhmmmmm’ before tapping the bar counter for another drink. “Oh sure you weren’t, honeybuns. I see how you look at Peanut, you wanna fuck him so bad it makes you look desperate,” he snorted, downing his drink before tapping for yet another shot. Jesus, that man just couldn’t stop drinking. “No judgement here, amigo, I get it. I mean if old Loggy-Bear was all over me like how he is with you, I’d be jumping those adamantium bones and just going right on down to Pound Town while he—”
“Okay, okay! I think I get it!” You cut him off, rubbing your temples and letting out a frustrated sigh. “Look, I know you’re trying help in your own fucked up way, but let’s not talk about how badly you want to get stabbed by him again, yeah?”
“Oh don’t worry, I’m sure the author of this thing will write that out sometime soon. But let’s focus on you finally getting down and frisky with Logan while he eats you out to ‘Dirty Diana’,” Wade nodded, finally motioning to you to come with him out the bar after you paid the bill. “Walk with me, mija. Time for me to impart some Wade Wisdom to you, trademark still pending.”
He brought you out to a place in the park by your apartment, only a good walk away. “Look, when talking with a man like Logan, it’s best to just be honest with both parties, yeah? You obviously want to fuck him, and he definitely wants to fuck you, so you know what ya do?” Wade noted down at you, seemingly waiting for you to answer him. “I just… Tell him how I feel?” You said unsurely, your face scrunching up slightly at your own answer. And by the look on Wade’s face, it probably wasn’t the best one you could give in his mind.
“Tell him how you— Fuck no! God, this isn’t some shitty Colleen Hoover book with— With vague illusions to fucking incest between step siblings!” Wade gagged out, looking almost disappointed he had to utter that sentence. “No, what you do is play into the scene already playing out. He’s looking for you to give him an answer with words, so what you do is answer him with action! Throw him for so many loopholes that by the time you’re finally ready for he just fuckin’ goes at ya like acougar with a bunch of college boys around her!”
“That is… Oddly specific, Wade. And slightly gross,” you muttered, shaking your head at his antics and sighing. Yet as much as you hated it, Wade’s words held some truth to them. You weren’t going to stand a chance if you just outright told Logan how he made you feel, that would be straight up suicide to you and your pride. But if you played into the song and dance that the two of you had now…
“Look, listen to me or don’t, it’s all up to you. But deep down, riiiiight in that little spot above your uterus and under that primordial pouch, ya know I’m right,” Wade patted your back, leading you back to the apartment complex.
“Yeah, yeah, I know… Also, I think the uterus is between the bladder and rectum, Wade.”
Despite your better judgement, you decided to listen to Wade’s advice. Well, some of it.
When you and Logan were alone, you resorted to longing glances at him, staring just long enough for him to catch you before you turned away. Then it escalated to slow touches on his arms as he sat next to you, trailing your hand down the expanse of muscle before pulling away. The challenge with that, however, was that you weren’t sure whether or not it would be him caving in or you. And frankly, it was looking like it was you who was about to crack.
It was after the second vibrator broke that you said enough was enough, no more teasing around the bush. You were going to give Logan a straightforward answer and whatever happened happened.
You sighed, tossing the broken toy across your bedroom angrily and letting out a frustrated groan. At the rate you were running through toys, you were certain that you’d be scrounging for street change on the corner. It got so bad to the point that you had to resort to your hands like some sort of caveman, grinding pathetically against your hand only to cry in frustration into your pillow. And tonight was one of those nights.
At least it was, until there was a knock on the door of your apartment.
You got up out of bed, grumbling to yourself as you trudged through your apartment to open the door with a sigh. “Whatever the fuck it is, it better be important enough for you to be banging on my door at almost two in the fucking morning—” You started to rant, only cutting yourself off when you saw Logan looming over you as he stood in the doorway. “Don’t worry, doll, ‘s just me,” he grunted out, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked down at you.
“Logan— What, uh, what are you doing up?” You cleared your throat, wiping away the sleep from your eyes as you moved to let him into your apartment. He hummed softly, situating himself onto the couch with a light grunt. “Couldn’t sleep all that much with Red yappin’ about some fuckin’ game or whatever, came over here where it’s quiet,” Logan sighed, eyeing you up as he watched you head to the kitchen to give him a beer. “That sounds like Wade, yeah,” you chuckled, sitting down next to him with a slight smile. “I mean, I don’t mind letting you spend the night here. I’d rather you be grumpy cus of Wade rather than you be grumpy due to lack of sleep.”
Logan snorted, a slight smirk on his lips as he brought the beer bottle to his lips and tore off the cap with his teeth. Just like the first time you’ve wanted to let him fuck you… “Trust me, I don’t sleep all that well to begin with, doll. But thanks for bein’ all sweet and considerate to an old bastard like me,” he chuckled, chugging the bottle as drops of beer cascaded down the corner of his lips and down his throat, that same sensation in the pit of your stomach bottling up.
“So, I’ve been meanin’ to ask ya this… Why haven’t you given an answer to that question I asked ya?” Logan said softly, looking over at you with a subdued heat in his eyes, watching your every move as he leaned back on the couch.
Shit. Shit.
You didn’t know whether you should say anything or hide away in shame, but something told you that neither of those choices were on the table. “Look, about that, I—” You began, but was cut off by Logan raising his hand.
“Aht. You keep your mouth nice and shut while I tell you somethin’, you got that, doll?” He muttered softly, taking another swig of his beer before putting it on the table and moving you closer to him. “I think I know why you haven’t given me an answer yet. And I also think it has somethin’ to do with that little ache between those pretty lil thighs of yours, ain’t that right, darlin’?”
You could feel your breath grow labored, blushing as he pulled you to his body just enough for you to smell the scent of whiskey and pine on his skin. It was overwhelming, but not in a bad way. On the contrary, it was intoxicating.
“So it made me wonder… What could possibly make a sweet, innocent, delicious lil thing like you get so distracted?” Logan rumbled close to your ear, delighting in the way you shivered as his breath hit your neck. “Maybe you were thinkin’ ‘bout somethin’ else, maybe you weren’t thinkin’ at all… But that ain’t your style, is it? Nah, you’re too methodical and shit to be randomly distracted. You only get distracted when there’s a man like me that’s older than your fuckin’ grandpa starin’ down at ya like you’re a nice, juicy piece of meat. Don’t you, doll?”
You could feel your panties getting soaked, squeezing your thighs as you felt that familiar ache in between your legs start to rear its head. “L-Logan—”
“Not a word, doll. Told ya to keep those pretty lips nice and sealed, didn’t I?” Logan growled, his large hands moving down to your thighs and gently pulling them apart, putting your back onto the couch. “Don’t think that I didn’t smell just how fuckin’ soaked you got everytime you were with me. Could smell you so much when we were in that kitchen, took all I had to not fuckin’ pounce on ya like a damn dog. And when I asked what got ya so distracted, you just grew so fuckin’ wet and needy for me, didn’t you? Couldn’t resist gettin’ all hot and bothered over a guy twice your size hoverin’ over ya like the sweet little doll you are, doin’ all he can to not just be completely fuckin' feral for ya.”
His hands trailed up the skin of your thighs, moving to the soft inner flesh and settling himself in between your legs. You could feel the gentle ache start to grow greater and greater, your breathing growing heavier and heavier with how close Logan was to you. He was right when he said you got riled up over having a larger guy hover over you, because right now your brain was going haywire with how his body practically covered yours.
“What’s the matter, doll? You normally got some whitty comeback for shit like this, what’s got ya all riled up, sweetness?” Logan growled, his eyes frantic as he looked down at you. You bit your lip, trying to get a hold of your breathing before opening your mouth to speak. “Y-You do, Logan… You have me all riled up. For the past two fucking months you’ve had me riled up to the point where I went through two separate vibrators all cus they couldn’t keep up with me. Shit, even before you came over the newest one joined the fucking graveyard of sex toys I’m making because not a single damn one was you.”
The air was silent, thick with tension as the two of you stared at each other. You didn’t know whether or not to say something, or just continue the staring match. “Are you tellin' me… That for the past two fuckin’ months, you’ve been workin’ away at that needy lil’ cunt all because of me? All because you wanted to get bent over like some whore in a back alley by a guy that could snap you in half like a fuckin' twig?” Logan rumbled lowly, his grip on your thighs loosening slightly as his chest heaved with every breath he took. All you could do was slowly nod, your own breaths out of sync with the way your mind raced.
“Fuck… Fuck,” Logan groaned, lifting you up by your thighs and pulling you into his lap for a kiss, keeping your body close to his as his lips devoured yours. Each time you pulled away for air, he would give you only a moment to breathe before clawing you back in for more. And to be honest, you weren’t sure if you wanted to come back up for air after the fifth time he pulled you in.
“All this time, I-I didn’t think you’d be into me— Thought I was just seeing or i-imagining things whenever you looked at me— I thought you wouldn’t want me…” You stuttered, letting out a soft whine as Logan pawed at your ass and slipped a hand underneath your nightblouse, guiding your body along his thigh slowly. “Don’t you ever think for a moment that I ain’t ever want you, darlin’. I’ve wanted you the moment I saw your pretty lil’ ass in the hallway when Wade introduced you,” Logan growled, his lips trailing down from your mouth, down your neck, and finally to your shoulder where he sank his teeth into your flesh.
“For two fuckin’ months, doll. Two whole months, I’ve thought about this pretty little body in my lap like this. Havin’ a sweet young thing like you lovin’ up on me like some desperate little puppy who can’t help but hump my thigh,” he groaned, licking your skin as he lifted you up and carried you down the hall to your room, tossing you onto the bed. “Do you know how many times I’ve sat there and wondered whether or not to fuck you right there in that kitchen? How many times I’ve had to hold myself back from tearin’ those clothes of yours to shreds? Or how many times I’ve fucked my hand thinkin' it was this sweet lil cunt of yours?”
You could feel yourself grow wet, that familiar ache in the pit of your stomach growing as you looked up at him. And God above if you didn’t wish that you had done this sooner with the way Logan looked at you now.
He looked at you like a wolf finally cornering a rabbit after a long hunt. You could see it in the way he gazed down at you as he took off his shirt, how his muscles tensed as he crawled over to you, stalked over to you like he was going to eat you up. “Look at you… All flushed and eager just because I’m starin’ at you like a fine steak. You get off on this, don’t you? Me tellin' ya how I want you, how I look at you,” He whispered, his eyes softly leading a trail down your chest.
“I can’t h-help it,” you whispered, your eyes flitting down to avoid his gaze and shivering softly as you felt his calloused hands run up your thighs. “What am I supposed to do when you look at me like that? What am I supposed to do when you look at me like I’m your everything, like you see me as the best thing that’s ever happened to you—”
“Because you are, doll. You are the best damn thing that’s happened to me in almost two hundred fuckin’ years. Not bein’ sent here to this timeline, not meetin’ Wade; it was you,” Logan whispered, tilting your head up to look up at him. “No matter what the hell anyone says, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t think anyone would be able to tell me otherwise that you, doll, are a fuckin’ godsend.”
You couldn’t believe the words that left his lips. Here you were, underneath the fucking Wolverine while he tells you that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him. And supposedly this was the worst Wolverine out of all the ones Wade could’ve picked out. Here Logan was telling you that the best thing to happen to him in his long lived life, and at the same time he had you pinned down under him like a little rabbit.
It didn’t take long for you to finally grow some liquid courage.
You couldn’t remember pulling Logan in for a kiss, but you remembered how his lips felt on yours. You remembered how his hands had torn off the top of your blouse and just how good his mouth felt when it trailed down your neck and onto your shoulder. Christ, just his hands alone was enough to get you soaked before Logan finally tore off your panties.
“Fuck, spread your legs for me, honey. Lemme see that pretty lil' cunt so I can have a meal,” he rumbled, prying open your thighs as he kissed down your body and stopping just above your folds, kissing the skin ever so softly. “Been waitin’ for this for two fuckin’ months and I am not gonna miss out on it.” He slowly trailed the flat of his tongue up your slit, practically moaning at the taste of you and the sounds of your moans leaving your lips.
“W-Wait, Logan—” you gasped, a soft mewl leaving you with every filthy slurp and suck his lips took from you. With every lap of your juices on your tongue and every grip of your thighs, it was like he couldn’t get enough of you. It was only when you tugged on his hair that he let up from his feast, your slick on his chin and lips. “What, what is it, doll? What do ya need, darlin’?” He mumbled, his thumbs rubbing your inner thighs as he looked up at you.
“I-I just— It’s been a while since anyone’s… Gone down on me,” you whispered, blushing softly as he kissed your thighs.
Logan stopped for a moment, almost looking shocked at what you said. “You’re tellin’ me that no one’s ever taken time outta their day to eat this pretty lil’ cunt? No one at all?” He whispered softly, almost in deep thought as his eyes stayed focused on that sweet treat between your legs, his tongue sweeping over his bottom lip. “Well, yeah… I’ve been single longer than Queen Elizabeth was ruling fucking England, and the last time it happened the guy didn’t know what to do—”
A sharp gasp left your throat as you felt Logan slip two thick fingers into you, his mouth back on your clit with a soft growl. “‘S a fuckin’ crime, is what it is. Pretty lil’ doll like you should be fuckin’ worshipped, ‘specially with a cunt like this…” He groaned against you, his fingers pumping in and out of your pussy with a slick sound. “Bet that lil’ fuckin’ prick you were seein’ before all this didn’t even know what to do with such a fuckin’ goddess like you.”
Logan took your lips away from your clit, panting softly as he wiped away your juices from his chin. “Lemme guess, the lil’ fucker didn’t even make you cum when he tried to go down on ya, did he?” He growled, moving his fingers ever faster and biting into your thigh, reveling in the sounds of your moans and whines. “C’mon, doll, lemme hear ya say it. Lemme hear ya say that bastard couldn’t make you cum not fuckin’ once.”
You couldn’t even respond to him with how quickly he was moving his fingers, only answering him with a soft cry of his name and cumming on his mouth and fingers. Christ, you don’tknow how long it’s been since you had an orgasm like that. It took you a good while to come down from the high, as well, gripping the sheets underneath you as Logan slowed down the movements of his fingers. “Fuck… Guess that answers that question, huh doll?” He panted softly, smirking to himself as he gently licked off your juices with a deep groan. “I-I’m sorry… Like I said, it’s been a long time for me,” you whispered, panting heavily as you shyly closed your legs together and looked away from Logan, almost embarrassed by how much you actually came.
“Hey, look at me, sweetness.”
You felt your chin being tilted up to look at Logan, his pupils blown wide and trained on you. “Don’t you ever fuckin’ apologize for puttin’ on a show like that, ya hear me?” He whispered softly to you, his thumb trailing over your bottom lip gently as his eyes gazed lower and lower down your body, his other hand moving what remained of your night blouse up and trailing gentle kisses up your stomach. “ I never wanna hear you say sorry for bein’ so damn good for me…”
You squirmed under him, soft little whines and moans leaving your lips as you felt his warm mouth wrap around your nipple and gently suck on it, his tongue swirling around it with expertise and care while his other hand moved from your mouth and down to your other breast to squeeze it slightly. “I didn’t think that this would happen, so I guess I can’t help but f-fumble over my words a bit,” you mumbled, watching as the hand massaging your chest moved away to unbuckle his pants and pull them down along with his boxers, resisting to let out a gasp when you saw how fucking big he was.
There was no way that could fit in me, you thought. And apparently, Logan knew what you were thinking, because he stopped to look up at you with a smirk.
“What, think I’m too big for ya? Don’t worry, dollface, I think I got ya lubed up just enough for me to fit. And if that don’t work, then I’ll make it fuckin’ fit,” he chuckled, teasingly grinding his cock against your folds and watching your slick practically drench him. You could only keep your eyes on Logan as he slowly slipped inside you with a low growl. And fuck if that stretch wasn’t the best you’ve ever felt in all your adult years; no matter how many times you’ve gotten a cheap lay after a night out on a bar, no matter how many damn vibrators or toys you went through—Nothing could come close to the feeling of satisfaction you got the moment Logan finally had you wrapped around his cock.
“J-Jesus fuck— I can’t believe it, you r-really made it fit—” You let out a strangled whine, digging your nails into his back as he still pushed more of his cock into you, at long last bottoming out with a quiet groan. “Told ya I’d make it fit, gorgeous,” Logan panted, grinning down at you with a feral gleam in his eyes as he began to slowly move, keeping your thighs over his arms and leaning down to bite into your neck. “Told ya I’d take care of ya, didn’t I doll?”
You’d say something in response to him, but you could only whine and roll your hips against his just to get him to go a little bit deeper, just to stretch you out a little bit more. “I’m gonna need words, sweetheart, I can’t understand ya with all those whines and moans you’re makin’, pretty as they are,” Logan teased, finally giving a rough thrust of his hips into you as his fangs grazed against your pulse. “C’mon, baby, talk to me. Gotta know if I’m fuckin’ you good and deep just like you’ve been needin’.”
You knew that was a lie; Logan didn’t need words to know how good he was fucking you, the cocky bastard he is. He knew he was fucking you good, and you were too much of a touch starved mess to even respond properly to his taunting and teasing.
Steadily, Logan picked up the pace, every thrust deep and measured while his calloused hands kept your thighs spread apart for him to move, yet still remaining ever the gentle lover. And you loved it, you really did… But damn it all if you didn’t want Logan to fuck into you like a rabid wolf in heat and fuck you every which way to Sunday till you couldn’t even stand. And depending on whether or not you were thinking with your head (unlikely) or your cunt (very likely), you had just the thing to spurr him over the edge.
‘You holdin’ on there, doll? Not hurtin’ too mu—” A short and deep snarl left Logan’s lips, his eyes looking back to see your nails digging into his back like your own perfectly manicured versions of his claws. And the best part of it for him? You had actually gotten him to fucking bleed. Thin stripes of red streaking down his scarred skin as you urged and pleaded for him to stop treating you like a precious doll and fuck you like a whore on the street. All it would take for him to give it to you would be one simple phrase…
“I want you to fucking knot me, Logan,” you panted into his ear, moaning as you felt his thrusts grow heavier and heavier with each passing second.
Logan paused his movements, panting just as frantically as you were and looking down at you with wild eyes. “Excuse me? Who the fuck told you about that–?” He whispered hoarsely, his massive body caging you in against the bed as he rolled his hips into you slowly. You looked away shyly, already starting to wonder what the hell you just got yourself into. “W-Wade let it slip that that’s a part of your mutation one time when he was d-drunk— That was it, I swear–” You mumbled softly, gasping as you felt his fangs sink into your neck and almost passing out from the sensation.
“Fuckin’ hell… You’re just tryin’ to make me knock you up, huh? Just have a whole litter of my pups runnin’ around while I fill you up with more?” Logan growled against your neck, lapping up the small drops of blood that sprouted and lifting your legs up to your chest, his hips going into a rough and feral pace into you as he stretched your cunt to its limits. You could feel the knot in question forming at the base of his cock, so eager to slip it yet still too early for it to catch on. “I’m on the fucking pill, Logan, you try and knock me up as much as you want— Just please don’t ever fucking stop,” you begged, rolling your eyes back and finally, finally, feeling that ball of flames in your stomach coming undone, cumming around Logan’s cock and knot like it was your first time all over again. And this seemed to just spurr Logan on even more.
“Fuck, fuck— Take it, doll, take my fuckin’ knot—” He growled in your ear, a strangled groan leaving his throat as his knot finally locked into your pussy and filled you up, shivering above you as he felt your walls milk his cock dry for all it was worth. It was warm, it was intimate, it was just you and him with the rest of the world a distant memory.
It took a while for you to catch your breaths, but it was shockingly you to be the first one to speak. “That… Was the best sex I’ve ever fucking had…” You laughed softly, your voice barely a whisper with how much you were crying out. “And to think I had it with the fucking Wolverine of all people.”
Logan laughed softly, gently maneuvering the two of you to lay on your sides with him holding you close. “I’m just fuckin’ surprised you handled it without faintin'. Most people do. But not you, huh doll? Tough lil' firecracker, you are,” he chuckled, kissing your shoulder as he pulled the blankets over you two. “Listen, doll…This whole thing with us, I’d— I’d like it to be more than just a one time fuck. I want it to be more than us just fuckin', y’know?”
You smiled, gently taking his hand in yours and kissing in between his knuckles where his claws came out. “I thought you’d never ask, big guy,” you whispered, nuzzling against his chest and humming contently as he pulled you in. “By the way, uh… We’re gonna be stuck here for a while, aren’t we?”
Logan nodded, pressing a gentle kiss against your hair. “Yeah, yeah we are, doll… But how the hell did you know that?”
“I’ve read my fair share of omegaverse fanfiction with Wade.”
I would like to extend my thank and gratitude for the support you have been offering over the last eleven months. ❤️☺️
My family and I have been suffering and going through the hardest days we have ever experienced in our life . Things are very hard to get and and sometimes unattainable.😭😓
Our sufferings and hardship started on the first day of the war when all our possessions were completely destroyed and burned. We have become displaced and homeless , finding ourselves in a small tent in streets with no means of life. We lack every single necessary thing of life; food, water, hygiene essentials, and other necessities have become scarce and rare.
Our life has been tough and harsh all the last time. No cooking gas , nor cooking tools exist . We struggle to prepare a small meal of food.
No bakeries are available. Everything seems hard and unbelievable.😭
This is a part of burying the dead. We also face some problems in the process of buying our dead people as no place is there for the family. Tombs aren't for the number of people living on a small spot of land.
All what we need is to survive the war and be safe. We are trying to secure the daily basic living necessities and this can come true with your contribution and support. Please don't spare this moment of supporting the people in need in Gaza in this tough and dire time. You can help us by either donating however small it is or sharing my posts. Your support makes a big difference for families in need.https://gofund.me/7e428359
Please do whatever you can to help Amany and her family. I don't have much of a following, but I do hope the people who do follow me will do their best.
List of Journalists Killed During this Genocide. Say their names!
Jabr Abu Hadrous (29/12/23)
Abdallah Hamad (29/12/23)
Ahmad Khair El-Deen (28/12/23)
Muhammad Khair El-Deen (28/12/23)
Ahmed Jamal Al-Madhoun (24/12/23)
Mohammed Abu Hwaidi (23/12/23)
Rizq Arrouq (22/12/23)
Muhammad Al-Saidi (22/12/23)
Adel Zorob (19/12/23)
Abdullah Alwan (18/12/23)
Haneen Ali Al-Qashtan (17/12/23)
Mashal Ayman Shahwan (16/12/23)
Assem Kamal Musa (16/12/23)
Rami Badir (15/12/23)
Ali Ashour Abu Malek (15/12/23)
Samer Abu Daqqa (15/12/23)
Khamis Hussain (15/12/23)
Ahmed Abu Abseh (13/12/23)
Hanan Ayad (13/12/23)
Narmeen Qawas (13/12/23)
Abdel Kareem Oudeh (12/12/23)
Mohammed Abu Samra (10/12/23)
Doaa al-Jabour (9/12/23)
Ola Atallah (9/12/23)
Hossam Omar Ammar (8/12/23)
Hamada Al-Yaziji (6/12/23)
Abdul Hamid Al-Qarinawi (3/12/23)
Mahmoud Salem (3/12/23)
Shaima Al-Jazzar (3/13/23)
Hassan Farajallah (3/12/23)
Hudhayfah Lulu (3/12/23)
Muhammad Farajallah (2/12/23)
Abdullah Darwish (1/12/23)
Muntaser Al-Sawwaf (1/12/23)
Marwan Al-Sawwaf (1/12/23)
Adham Hassouna (1/12/23)
Nader Al-Nazli (25/11/23)
Amal Zuhd (24/11/23)
Mostafa Bakeer (24/11/23)
Mohamed Mouyin Ayyash (23/11/23)
Mohamed Nabil Al-Zaq (21/11/23)
Assem Al-Barash (21/11/23)
Jamal Haniyeh (21/11/34)
Farah Omar (21/11/23)*
Rabih Al Maamari (21/11/23)*
Ayat Khadoura (20/11/23)
Alaa Al-Nimr
Bilal Jadallah (19/11/23)
Abdelhalim Awad (18/11/23)
Sari Mansour (18/11/23)
Hassouneh Sleem (18/11/23)
Mostafa El Sawaf (18/11/23)
Amr Salah Abu Hayah (18/11/23)
Mossab Ashour (18/11/23)
Mahmoud Matar (15/11/23)
Ahmed Fatima (13/11/23)
Yaacoub Al-Barsh (13/11/23)
Mousa Al-Barsh (12/11/23)
Ahmed Al-Qara (10/11/23)
Yahya Abu Manih (7/11/23)
Mohamed Abu Hasira (7/11/23)
Mohamed Al Jaja (5/11/23)
Haitham Harara (3/11/23)
Mohamad Al-Bayyari (2/11/23)
Mohammed Abu Hatab (2/11/23)
Majd Fadl Arandas (1/11/23)
Iyad Matar (1/11/23)
Imad Al-Wahidi (31/10/23)
Majed Kashko (31/10/23)
Nazmi Al-Nadim (30/10/23)
Yasser Abu Namous (27/10/23)
Duaa Sharaf (26/10/23)
Zaher Alafghani (25/10/23)
Jamal Al-Faq’awi (25/10/23)
Saed Al-Halabi (25/10/23)
Ahmed Abu Mahadi (25/10/23)
Salma Mkhaimer (25/10/23)
Hudhayfah Al-Najjar
Mohamed Al Hassani
Mohamed El-Shorbajei
A’ed Ismail Al-Najjar (24/10/23)
Iman Al-Aqili (24/10/23)
Mohammed Imad Labad (23/10/23)
Roshdi Al-Sarraj (22/10/23)
Mahmoud Abu Zarifa (22/10/23)
Hany Al-Madhoun (21/10/23)
Mohammed Ali (20/10/23)
Khalil Abu Aathra (19/10/23)
Sameeh Al-Nady (18/10/23)
Mohammad Balousha (17/10/23)
Issam Behar (17/10/23)
Abdulhadi Habib (16/10/23)
Yousef Maher Dawas (14/10/23)
Salam Mema (13/10/23)
Ali Nisman (13/10/23)
Husam Mubarak (13/10/23)
Issam Abdallah (13/10/23)*
Abdul Rahman Shihab (12/10/23)
Anas Abu Shamala (12/10/23)
Ahmed Shehab (12/10/23)
Mustafa Al-Naqeeb (11/10/23)
Rajab Al-Naqeeb (11/10/23)
Mohamed Fayez Abu Matar (11/10/23)
Saeed Al-Taweel (10/10/23)
Mohammed Sobh Abu Rizq (10/10/23)
Hisham Alnawajeha (10/10/23)
As’ad Shamlakh (8/10/23)
Mohammad Jarghoun (7/10/23)
Ibrahim Mohammad Lafi (7/10/23)
Mohammad Al-Salhi (7/10/23)
*lebanese journalist | could not find date of martyrdom
spent the whole day confirming all of these names and looking through multiple resources. the ones with dates are journalists who’s date of martyrdom and/or exact cause of death is stated by sources besides the government media office official list.
The images that Israel claims are of fighters arrested and stripped in Gaza include a journalist and his family, two teenage boys, one United Nations employee, and the director of an UNRWA school.
