#I feel like an old man. GET OFF MY LAWN
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simfuldelights · 6 months ago
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These pigeons are trying to build a nest atop the air conditioner on my balcony, and I’M trying to put my BABY to SLEEP but they’re being very loud. I went out and scraped their twigs (and nails?? Like metal building nails) off with this branch my daughter brought home a while ago, left that up there. And I let my cat out. I’m sure she would hurt them if she could but I don’t think they’ll let her. I don’t want them hurt anyway, just gone. I need to sleep.
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snazzzycattzz · 2 months ago
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the combo of wearing a 10 billion pound back pack and binding is NOT good for your back. owwwwwwww
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babygirlharrington · 2 years ago
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Name your Vecna-defying song (with or without explaining the choice) and tag 5 st buddies to answer the same.
Tagged by @strangersatellites
I very much would like to go on record and say the song DONT TRUST ME by 3oh!3 could revive me from just about anything. No, I will not elaborate.
Now im gonna tag 5 Steve-centric blogs that the algorithm feeds to me at random, so If you don’t wanna keep the the tag game alive that’s a-okay!🫡
Tagging:
@stevethehairington @steveshairychest @steveharringtonsbabysitterclub @stevesource @harringtonappreciation
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remusjohnslupin · 1 year ago
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You return! Nice to see you!
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alsjdhghjk thank you so much ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤
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attackoneyebrows · 2 years ago
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if not for danielle savre i really would drop this show i cant believe i actually held out hope they'd properly delve into maya's growth / journey back what a laugh
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wabblebees · 2 years ago
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.
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imwritesometimes · 2 years ago
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room on fire is 20 years old lmao fuckin what????
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hananono · 8 months ago
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i think i am just going to start softblocking people under 18 who follow me
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joyridingmp3 · 1 year ago
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i miss the days i could just work from home
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mmmmwaffles94 · 1 year ago
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What tf happened?? Where did all of you come from???!
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ceilidho · 1 year ago
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landscape with honey
summary: price/reader bear shifter fic. PART 4. (read the whole thing on ao3 here) tags: light daddy kink, breeding kink, very nsfw, she/her pronouns for reader
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He starts showing up at your house at odd hours. 
You’re fixing coffee in the morning, still fuzzy and warm from sleep, only to hear the sounds of hammering outside. Wrapping yourself in just a housecoat, you find John fixing the loose step on your stairs, barely sparing enough time to greet you before returning to the task at hand. When he finishes, he brushes off your attempts to pay him for the job, just loading his tools back in the car and driving off.
You sip your coffee and wonder. Odd.
The next day, you find him raking the leaves in your lawn. Two days later, he shows up at the grocers when you’re picking up produce, and helps you carry all your bags to the car. He also adds a peculiar amount of canned goods to your order and when you fret and try to tell him that you don’t need the pickles and sauerkraut and beans and all of that stuff, he just lays a hand flat on your head and drags it down your hair until you go quiet. 
He pays for the whole order.
You’ve never had to wonder about a man’s actions. Men are largely inscrutable to you, ever-shifting. They say one thing and mean another. They look at you like one might look at an oil painting, entitled something like Virgin Meeting Her Lover’s Eyes From The Top Of The Staircase or Landscape With Virgin. They speak to you as though an answer were entirely antithetical to their purpose in conversing with you. 
John listens to you with a focus that borders on intimidating, like he wants to hear each word enunciated exactly how you might enunciate it. It has the sharp clarity of respect, of a mutual acknowledgement of humanity. He also comes over to fix your sink without you having to ask. The world of men is still largely confusing to you. 
John grows surlier as the days grow shorter though. He doesn’t snap or snarl at you the way he does sometimes with his recruits (you rarely see him interact with them, but sometimes you’ll drop him off his lunch on the days when you’re feeling particularly generous and that’s when you’ll have the rare pleasure of hearing him shout at a trembling twenty-three year old for littering on the trail like a military captain), but it’s a near thing. 
The worst is when he catches you on a jog one morning on his drive to work. You see his truck with the faded red paint pass you by and you give a short wave that he returns. He passes you by about half a yard before coming to a full stop and reversing. You stare at him as the window rolls down, brows furrowed.
“Hi Jo—” you start.
“Get in the car,” John growls. You hear the doors unlock. 
“…My uh…my shift’s in two hours, John, I can’t just—”
“Get in the car.”
“This is my only time to exercise!”
“If I have to get out of this car and drag you inside, honey, I will. Don’t play with me. Get in.”
You get in the car. Probably wisely. Still dripping sweat and shivering from the cold—you’re not used to jogging in the winter, or at all for that matter, but it seemed like as good a time as any to start—you glance over to stare at the side of John’s face. His jaw is set, almost as if in anger. His knuckles are white over the steering wheel as he makes a U-turn and drives back into town. The cab of his truck smells like flannel pulled out from the back of a closet, almost musty, but comforting in the way that old clothes can sometimes smell. There’s a cigarette ashed out in the dish in front of the centre console. 
He takes you to the nearest bakery for coffee and a breakfast muffin and stares you down until you eat the whole thing. You feel like you have to scarf it down. Customers bustle into the bakery to order coffee to-go and fresh cookies and scones in waxy paper bags; everyone in town knows each other so you try to avoid the more curious stares when they’re turned on you.
“This is weird,” you say, staring down at the crumbs on your plate. “This is really weird.”
“This is what you get for exercising before winter,” John says, flagging down the barista for another muffin and a refill on your coffee. “Waste of calories.” The last part is said derisively, almost with a scoff. 
You frown. “Lots of people exercise. Even when it snows.”
“Winter is a time for hibernating. Not…sweat,” he says with a grimace, like the very thought is anathema to him. 
"Hibernating?" you repeat skeptically, scrunching up your nose. "I mean, I spend a lot of time indoors, but I wouldn't say I'm hibernating."
John stares at you until you look away, flushed. "Finish your breakfast."
The barista returns with another blueberry muffin and a fresh cup of coffee. At least John's the one paying. When he finally seems satisfied, he hustles you home and leaves you off at the door with a stern warning. 
“You gonna be good for me this time?” he asks, a finger curled under your chin, tilting your head up. One of his hands curls around the doorframe and your heart jumps when you hear the wood creak under his grip. This close, you can see the faintest silver streaks at his temples and the flecks of it in his beard.
“It was just a light jog,” you mumble, looking away. 
“Not a light anything,” he warns, ducking closer until you feel like shrinking back, like disappearing into your house. “Bake a cake if you have to burn off energy so bad. I’ll be over around seven, alright?” 
You mumble something, the words getting lost in themselves. It’s impossible to think with John in your space like this. It’s only when he finally pulls away and ambles back to his truck that you rock back on your heels, let go of whatever spell he had you under. 
The first week of December hits town like a truck. 
You’re trudging home alone after your shift when you make the decision to cut through the forest because you missed the last bus and you don’t want to spend an hour walking home. The first snow of the season has caught you off guard, clad in boots too autumnal and a sweater too thin for the biting cold. The flakes fall in thick chunks that stick for a brief moment before melting into the skin.
It’s not the first time you’ve travelled through the forest alone. The town is surrounded by pockets of the forest, like it can’t help enveloping whatever space is left for it. Oftentimes it’s easier just to cut through the woods rather than travel the long way around. You wouldn’t even call this the forest proper, not like the acres of trees sprouting over the mountains just off in the distance. 
A bush rustles. Your eyes flick over for a second, breath hovering in your chest before you decide that it’s just a squirrel. Nothing ever happens in a town like this. The man from the other day notwithstanding, nothing truly bad ever happens. You keep walking down the partially demarcated path, lit only by the full moon overhead. It’s so dark that the snow around you is almost blue. 
The bush rustles again. You stop this time, feet staying planted in the snow long enough for your feet to grow cold. You stare at the dark shoots covered in a layer of snow; it stripes the branches like candy from a time ago, licorice twisted with white bark, and it doesn’t move when you look at it. The bushes and trees are dense, impossible to peer through. Even walking through the forest doesn’t make you feel immersed in it. You follow a barely marked path, hard to see through the recent snowfall, and stare out into the dark woods with a kind of animal sense. Not sure whether you’re alone, whether something’s there with you, and whether it’s sensed you or if you’ve sensed it first. 
You start walking again when your feet go numb. Better to just get home.
It comes behind you again as a slightly louder rustle. It’s harder to shake off the fear this time, harder to say that it’s just the wind. The snow crunches under more than one set of feet, branches cracking under the weight of something larger than you. 
You don’t want to turn around, but the sound of something chuffing makes your stomach drop. The first thing that emerges when you turn to face it is its massive head, a white frosted muzzle, and the visible hump on its back. The wispy smoke of its breath puffs out when it breathes. Its eyes are dark, hardly reflecting any light at all. Then the rest of it emerges, the saplings bending out of its way as it clambers out of the woods and onto the path, staring you down all the while.
You’ve never seen a bear before. Not this close. Not so close that you know it’s been stalking you, know that it didn’t come upon you by accident. You’re staring down at your own body from somewhere else, fear displacing you. Rending you from your own body. There’s no way to guess its weight at a glance, but it’s easily twice the size of you, easily more than that. 
When it takes a step forward, everything goes dark. 
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You wake up snuggled under the warmth of a thick blanket. Sleep is creamy thick, engulfing you on all sides, only the faintest prickle of awareness letting you know that you’re awake. 
It’s unpleasant to leave the cotton miasma of sleep, you think. Your nose scrunches up and you let out a tired huff, trying to will yourself back into it. The harder you try to force yourself back into it though, the farther away it floats.
Still it weighs you down. It takes an age to work up the energy to so much as twitch a finger. Even your eyelids insist on staying shut. Yet, the prickle of consciousness needles at you as if to say hello, wake up, you need to get up. You sigh and try to shimmy up onto your elbows.
A hand shoves you back down. The breath rushes out of you.
“Get…back down,” a rough voice grunts from over you and then the full weight of a man settles on top of you, pressing you deep into the mattress. 
Consciousness snaps back into you, elastic sharp. The weight of him pins you to the bed, makes you sink into the plushness of—and this is gradually coalescing in your mind—an unfamiliar place. All four corners of your body are trapped under him. The voice is familiar though. Ragged, brutal. A saw taken to the trunk of an old, thick tree, too many interior rings to count. You whisper John’s name and he grunts, making you flinch from how the sound reverberates through the side of your head.
Exhaustion is thick though and it leaves you heavy, even when John slowly lifts himself to his elbows from behind you. You feel him drag his body down the length of the bed, beard scratching into your skin with every petal soft kiss dropped along your spine during his descent.
“John?” you whisper, only just able to turn your head, not even able to struggle up to your elbows. “J-John?”
He doesn’t answer you. The room is near pitch black, only a window on the other end of the room with the curtain pulled back the smallest amount enough to let the moonlight in. Even the moonlight isn’t enough. You know from the shape of the window that this isn’t your house, that it must be somewhere else. You can only surmise from John’s presence that it’s his, but that thought passes over you like a rock skipping over water. 
“Wher’m’I?” you murmur, eyes fluttering shut when his lips press over the small of your back. Sensitive there. 
Rough hands with callused fingertips smooth over your ass, pressing into the flesh. His fingers pry your cheeks apart, thumbs dipping into the space between and pressing over your hole, making you burn all over. You’re too far gone to worry about any hair on your legs or anything about your body other than John’s hands undulating over your ass and thighs. You flinch violently when his teeth sink into the meat on the underside of your ass, so tender that even exhausted to the bone your body lashes out. 
Big hands pry your legs apart. You flinch at the sudden hot breath over your sex, a whine tickling your throat. His face hovers so close to your centre that the tip of his nose presses on the tender skin near your entrance. 
“Wha’ d’you…think you’re doin’...” you ask breathlessly. Your brain tries to order your leg to kick, but it stays flat and limp on the bed. 
The first touch of John’s tongue along your slit makes you melt, the flat of his tongue lapping upward and making your hips tilt up with it. It almost makes your mind go blank again, almost tips you back into the unconscious world because the synapses in your brain stop firing the second you remember that it’s John between your legs licking hungrily at your cunt. John from the grocery store, John from the ranger’s station in the mountains—the John you’ve been crushing on and coveting for months now, content to just be friends with the gruff, handsome man in the house next to yours. Now sucking one of your nether lips into his mouth and tracing his tongue up the inside, gliding it over the supple flesh.
“Yer in the den,” John mumbles into your pussy and it’s like he sears the words into your brain. “‘N I’m takin’ care of you, honey.”
“The…the den…?” It’s so hard to keep your thoughts in order. Each flick of his tongue makes you gasp, pussy growing wetter and hips grinding languidly down on his face.
He hums instead of answering. 
“Why’m’I so tired?” you slur. 
His tongue saws over your clit from behind. It tears a broken whimper from you. You feel every textured ridge, the way it flicks around in a circle and then up and down again. 
“Winter season,” John says, sucking your clit into his mouth until you whine at the top of your lungs. “Bear’s sleep in winter.”
“Tha’s silly. M’not a bear,” you moan. 
“No,” he agrees, humming into your sex. “Jus’ mated to one. Makes you sleepy too, honey.”
“Mated?” you repeat back, but it’s lost in the way you moan when he eats your pussy from the back, licking into you with renewed vigour. Hungry like a bear. Grunting like a satisfied man, slurping loud enough to make your face heat up. 
Words and old memories about bears hardly matter when the handsome man from next door spreads your legs wide, almost to the point of pain, and sinks his tongue into your hole again. You never would’ve expected John to be vocal, but he’s noisy behind you, groaning into your cunt. He keeps mumbling things under his breath that you can’t catch. 
“John—” you gasp, biting your lip when he sucks your clit into his mouth again. “John—John—”
He only has to give you a single finger to tip you over the edge, feeds it in nice and slow. Your cunt clenches down at the intrusion, teeth nearly breaking through the skin of your lip. 
When he crawls back over you, anticipation makes you shudder. You hear something faint in the background that grows steadily louder as John rests his elbows on either side of your head, until you realize that it’s your own voice murmuring, “Put it in, put it in, put it in—”
He obliges. A thick, steady plunge that hardly manages more than a handful of inches before you’re crying, and it’s too much, too much, too much. Pleasure not a limpid pool anymore but something cavernous and deep-dwelling, pulling you in or trying to make a home inside of you for it. John’s biceps tense with the strain of holding himself back. 
You balance on the knife’s edge between pleasure and pain. There’s a single thought in your head that it might burn you up from the inside; it runs a jagged hole through you. 
His nose drags through your hair. “Never expected you. Thought I’d go another season alone ‘till I started smellin’ you around town.”
You hiccup. “Y’never—never paid me any attention ‘for— before, ah—”
“‘Course I paid attention to’ya, honey,” John says into your ear, grunting when he drives deeper into your pussy, still just a languid grind of his hips, so mind-numbingly slow that your thoughts sizzle out of your head. He keeps dragging his hips back and plunging in, barely pulling away from you, all skin on slick skin. “Made a home for m’self in your house. Made sure we had ‘nough to eat for the winter.”
“The winter?”
“Won’t be goin’ anywhere for a few months.” He brushes your hair out of the way to kiss down your neck, giving in to the urge to bite just a little. His body stays pressed tight to yours, hardly an inch of space between the two of you. “Wasn’ sure at first if it’d be here or in your house so… fuck, I had to get ready. Make sure you’d be safe when it hit.”
“Don’ even…know wha’ that means,” you mumble into the mattress, then squeal and fist the fists when John shoves a hand under you to grope your chest.
“Don’t worry about it,” he shushes you. “All y’have to do now is lie there ‘n take my cock, okay, honey? Can’ya do that for me? I’ll get some food in you after we’re done, then send ya back to bed.”
Only a whine comes out when you open your mouth. John’s arm by your head forces you to breathe in the scent of him, musky and rich. You stare at the hair on his knuckles and his thick fingers gripping the sheets as well, old nicks and scars decorating his hand. You can’t stop staring at his fingers and thinking that he had one of those in you before, that he’s felt you from the inside. 
He never pulls away, never changes positions, just fucks you on your tummy in his bed. You’ve never been in John’s bedroom before, but this has to be his room—even the pillowcase smells like him, pine needles and cigar smoke. He keeps up a steady pounding into your cunt, rutting like a wild animal. Has to be close. Gets so close to you that you feel smothered, trapped in place. Like if you struggled, he wouldn’t let up. You want to test it, see if you could, but the heaviness is still in your limbs, keeping you docile. Convenient. A little convenient thing for him to use, like a doll to get himself off with.
“Never coulda imagined such a pretty girl f’r me,” John groans, getting a grip in your hair to twist your head, tugging you into a kiss. Your whole body sparks to life, so shocked that you can’t even kiss him back at first. You wait until he pulls back, staring into his half-lidded eyes through the mess of your hair all tangled up around you. “Gave up on thinkin’ there was anyone out there. Thank fuck I found you first, honey. Can start workin’ on all the good stuff now. Get you to give daddy a baby.”
“D-daddy?” you gasp back, almost scandalized. 
He pants into your shoulder, worked up now. “Yeah, honey. Don’ I take care of you? Buy y’r food, fix y’r house? Give you someplace nice ‘n warm to sleep?”
You feel soaked with sweat, twitchy, on the verge of something dangerous. Vision all fogged up, heart beating so fast that your skin buzzes. Stretched out on a fat cock and pinned in a man’s bed, nowhere to run or hide. 
“Y-yeah,” you stutter when John gets a bit rougher, his breathing getting more staggered, laboured. 
“That’s right, girl,” he grunts, “I’m y’r fuckin’ daddy then, aren’t I?”
Magma bubbles up from deep inside of you. Rockslides off in the distance beat against the ground. When you cry out, it gets lost in the rubble. 
You stumble into the living room maybe hours later after using the washroom across the hall. Maybe a day later. It’s hard to say how many times the sun has risen and fallen behind the mountains. The clock face stares back at you uncomprehendingly. 
Come drips out of you onto the floor. Thick droplets run down your inner thighs. John is still sleeping in the bed where you left him, snoring like a chainsaw. It must’ve been what woke you up. There’s no way of knowing how long it’s been since he first brought you home, since he left a mess in your pussy, which is still puffy and sore from rough use. You walk with halting little steps to try to minimize the ache. 
You stare bleary-eyed around the room. It feels somehow different than the previous times John’s had you over; there are more throws and blankets draped over the couch, candles scattered around the living room with a lighter on the mantle. 
There’s a fire roaring in the fireplace, blanketing the house in a layer of warmth. It makes you sluggish, stumbling forward only a handful of steps before the shaggy rug in front of the fire drags you back down to the floor. 
“What’re you doing out of bed, pretty girl?” someone rumbles from behind you. 
“Had t’pee,” you say, blinking. You try to rub the sleep out of your eyes unsuccessfully. “Why’m’I still so tired? It’s been…I slept so long…”
“C’mon, honey,” John says, coming up behind you and curling his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Told you it was gonna be a long winter. Maybe just one more and then somethin’ to eat, okay?”
It’s easy to sink to the floor, so easy. Especially with the fluffy rug under your feet. Especially with the fireplace toasting you from the outside in, the tinder crackling in the hearth. Everything in the house is dark and warm, only the fire giving you any light at all. Outside the window, the moon is still heavy in the sky. 
Something about the humidity of the den makes you suddenly so tired, boneless, pliable when he goes to move you, when John curves himself around you in the furs and reaches down to slide a hand between your thighs. 
He grunts when he finds you wet and wanting, sinking a couple fingers in and palming your clit. He doesn’t talk much still, but he says good girl when he cants your hips and slowly stretches you out on his cock. Feeds it into you achingly slow, like molasses. Like nothing’s due for another few months, so why rush it? He’ll take his time so you’re nice and happy and sweet come spring for cubs.
You’re not sure what that means. The pace is slow and deep, like before but less intentional. Like he just wants to savour the warmth of your body. 
When he finally comes deep inside you, your body goes limp, collapsing in a heap onto the rug. You expect John to pull out and turn over, maybe pull you onto his chest so you have somewhere to rest. Instead, he sighs all tired and content, and stays in you, still plugged up in your cunt, his spend only just starting to leak out into a pool beneath you. 
“Are we gonna eat?” you mumble, already half-asleep.
Somewhere behind you, he laughs; it’s soft like a snowfall in winter. “Yeah, honey. After a nap, we can eat.”
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seungfl0wer · 4 days ago
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*𝑯𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒚𝑴𝒐𝒐𝒏*
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Pairing: Chan x Reader (Fem)
Genre: Fluff/Smut (Short Oneshot)
Warnings: Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Breeding, mentions of getting pregnant, Oral (Both), mostly just a fluffy story with fluffy sex lol. Sorry for any mistakes or missed tags
Find The Request(s) Here
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-🖤
You loved going on tour with your boyfriend getting to spend time with him and seeing all the different places. Getting to see him perform and everything it was just so exciting. Yesterday you landed in Australia which Chan was ecstatic to show you around. He brought you to see his parents which you’d already met a few times. His dad made some dinner while everyone talked and had a good time.
“Babe wanna go see my favorite spot?” He asked with a smile.
“Of course” you said smiling back.
As everyone finished dinner Chan asked if you were ready. He drove you to a beautiful spot, it was lit by the moon light. The ocean crashing against the shore, the sky just as stunning. Chan interlocked your fingers as you sat on a small bench just staring out into the vastness of the ocean. He kissed you lovingly, you couldnt help but notice him staring at you. He had a habit of this, just taking in your beauty. He studied your face memorizing every little inch like he would forget it if he looked away.
“I don’t know what’s more beautiful, you or the ocean” he said with a fond smile.
“I can’t compete with the beauty of your first love” you say with a teasing sigh.
He couldn’t help but chuckle kissing your cheek “you both are my loves” he teased.
You both sat there contently in silence enjoying the sounds of the waves and small birds still chirping. “Can I ask you something?” He said softly.
“Of course silly” you said smiling.
“You love me right?” He said.
You were taken back a small bit but chuckled “yeah most days” you teased.
He let out breath before kissing you lovingly. His hands came up to cup your cheek, he looked into your eyes. You could see how much he loved you. How his eyes almost formed hearts as he stared into yours.
“I have another question for you then” he said voice stuttering a bit.
You tilted your head looking at him “and what’s that?”
“Well first you gotta close your eyes.” He said with a nervous smile.
He could feel his heart racing, his hands were getting clammy. He knew you wouldn’t say no however he still was a bit nervous. He wanted everything to be perfect, he wanted it to be special. He got up getting down on his knee In front of you. He pulled the ring out, Funny enough it was a ring you picked out before. You had joked about how if he was ever gonna propose this was the ring. He saved it. That was almost 2 years ago and he still remembered.
“O-ok open” he said. As he watched your eyes open going wide as you realized what was happening.
“My beautiful, my love. Will you- will you make me the happiest man alive by being my wife? I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Growing old together.” He said his words coming out fast.
“Chan” you started to sob happy tears of course. You flung yourself on him wrapping your arms around him. “Yes, yes a million times yes. I wanna be with you till we are old and grey yelling at kids to get off our lawn” you giggled through your tears.
He wrapped his arms around you pulling you into him trying not to cry himself. A few small tears falling despite his best efforts. When he pulled away he cupped your face whipping the tears from your cheek. “Y/n I love you with every fiber of my being.” He said kissing you passionately. “May I put the ring on?” He asked pulling away.
“Oh yeah!” You said making you both chuckle.
He slipped the ring on kissing you once more.
“Christopher! No fucking way!” You almost screamed. “You remembered the ring?” You said not being able to believe your eyes.
“Of course I remembered silly” he said.
He sat back down beside you, wrapping his arm around your side. He pulled you into him, into a warm cuddle. You both sat there for a few hours just talking and enjoying each other’s presence.
When you got back home his mom was smiling ear to ear. “I assume it went well” she said before pulling you into a tight hug. “I’m so happy he has you” she said. Here came to tears again.
All the boys who had been outside came in smiling at you. They all looked so happy. “Wait y/n you said yes? Really? To this old man?” Seungmin teased.
“Yep, my old man” you said making him roll his eyes.
The next morning the boys were off to the concert, it went flawless as always. Chan had a special glow to him though. He just couldn’t stop smiling. Before ending the show for the night Chan stood there that smile still plastered to his face “Stay!” He yelled out. “I proposed to y/n!” He yelled louder. The whole crowed erupted. Quickly it became trending on twitter and everywhere else. Surprisingly everyone was supportive, everyone was excited to see your wedding. They were all happy to just see bangchan so happy.
——
The wedding planning started right away. You both brain stormed wanting to make sure it was both of you combining ideas. Although things had gotten stressful at points you had so many people that helped and supported you.
When the day had come it went so perfectly. Only small hiccups like almost falling over when you got into the dress. Which honestly made you and everyone else just laugh. Another hiccup that was also funny was Felix coming into your room to help with something and almost seeing you in your tits. He freaked out so much he ran into the wall. Not once. But 3 times before leaving the room. He couldn’t help but laugh, like you were hysterically laughing.
When the time came to walk down the aisle though as soon as you both saw each other neither of you could stop the tears. You both were crying, his mom was crying, a few of the boys and brides maids were crying. It was just a stream of tears. And it only got worse when you exchanged vows. Chans being so beautiful written of course.
Driving off after to head to the hall after for the party you were excited. Chan and you having a small make out session in the car. When you got there Chan had you sit down because he had something planned. You sat there as you watched all the boys come out and get into position. This mother fucker, wrote a whole song for you, got them to choreograph a small dance and had planned this out for months. The song was heartwarming and the small dance was just perfect. Just as it ended all the boys rushed you giving you a big group hug.
Chan and you both danced swaying back and forth as he kept repeating how beautiful you were. “Y/n you really look stunning, god I can’t believe we’re married. I can’t believe you said yes” he said making you laugh.
“Babe, I said yes how long ago” you teased.
“I know but I just- I’m just so fucking happy” he said kissing you lovingly.
You could hear the fake gags coming from a member or two making you laugh. “I’m really married to a man with 7 children aren’t I” you said.
He was laughing now “yeah sorry about that” he said.
The night went by watching as the boys, your family and friends all just having fun. You couldn’t help but laugh while you watched the boys twerking. Minho came up beside you chuckling as he watched them “you really married into this” he said.
“Yep I sure did” you said.
“You can still back out” he joked.
“I’ve already been stuck with you guys for how many years. What’s the rest of my life?” You said smiling fondly.
“True, I guess the boys do need a mother” he joked.
“Yeah gonna ground them all for twerking so badly” you both chuckled.
It was time to throw the bouquet, when you did Hannah, Chans sister was the one who caught it. The person who caught the garter was Hyunjin. If you know anything about weddings the person who catches the garter is supposed to put it on the leg of the person who caught the flowers. However Chan looked like he’d kill him if he did.
Hyunjin walked over placing it on Hannah arm like a bracelet. “Don’t wanna die tonight” he said loudly as he did Making everyone laugh.
As the night wounded down and everyone left Chan and you headed back to the house. You were excited for morning though, Chan had booked a honeymoon and wouldn’t tell you where it was. You were leaving in the morning bags already packed. Chan cuddled up to you all night both super tired from everything.
——
When you landed you were greeted by beautiful scenery, a vast blue ocean the looked like it never ended. The place he had booked had the perfect view, there was a huge jacuzzi tub and roses all over the bed. It was stunning it smelled like citrus and candy. As you plopped your bags down and also plopped yourself down on the bed. Stretching out after being cooped up in the plane for so long. The bed was comfortable, honestly felt like a cloud.
Chan smiled looking at you before climbing on top of you. He nuzzled his face into your neck making you giggle. Hearing you giggle he started tickling you, you busted out laughing squirming under him. You could feel him smiling against your skin. “My beautiful wife” he said as he pulled away. He looked down at you with love in his eyes, leaning down to kiss you passionately.
His hand cupped your face as he depended the kiss, tongue poking at your lips. You happily parted them as your tongues battled for dominance. His other hand roamed downwards, playing with your breast. He played with your nipples rolling them in his fingers pinching them ever so slightly. A soft moan was swallowed by him before you knew it he had your shirt off. Sucking gently at your skin leaving pretty purply red marks all over it.
He kissed down your body before swiftly pulling the rest of your clothes off. You gasped at the fast motion only to be met with his lips against your thigh. He kissed his way down them, kissing around your core before diving head first. His soft plump lips attached to your nub, nibbling it ever so perfectly. He licked a long stip up and down your folds before pushing his tongue into you. His hands gripped at your thighs holding them apart as his tongue fucked you. His pretty nose brushing against your nub every so often.
You were squirming, moaning loudly hands interlocking into his hair. You gripped it tightly making him groan into you. He loved when you pulled his hair especially while eating you out. “Is my pretty wife gonna cum?” He moaned out. Before you could even respond though he was pushing his fingers into you. Pumping them fast as he curled them. His lips started to suck harshly at you clit all the while keeping eye contact with you.
“Ch-Chan fuck- please- don’t stop!” You moaned.
“Wouldn’t dream of it” he said with a smirk.
His fingers were moving perfectly and his tongue working overtime. What drove you over the edge was a slight bite he left to your clit. Your body ached off the bed orgasm crashing over you. Chan road out your high pulling away with a long string of salvia. His lips were wet from salvia and your juice.
He fumbled to get his pants off, too pussy drunk to think straight. “Let me help you” you said breathily undoing his belt before pulling them down. His cock springing out, he was so unbelievably hard it almost looked painful. You couldn’t help but wrap your lips around it taking him slowly into your mouth. You were quite literally drooling over him. You took him back your throat the whole way as you started to bob your head. His head thrown back as you did he moved your hair from your face. Looking down at you he couldn’t help but moan the sight making him wanna cum.
“F-fuck baby- s’good” he said.
He let you go at your own pace watching you take him all in. “That’s it baby- fuck just like that. M’good girl. My pretty wifey” he mumbles out. As you swirled your tongue around the tip he almost gasped. “Shit- wait” he said pulling out from your mouth. You looked up at him a little confused “sorry love- i wanna cum in that pretty little cunt of yours” he said with a groan.
“Come here” he said pulling you up lips crashing into yours, he moved you back laying you down on the bed. He aligned himself to your core before pushing into you fully. Both of you letting out a heavenly moan at the feeling. Chan gripped your hips as he moved in and out of you. His cock filled you so perfectly his head hitting the your cervix. He pulled away from the kiss moving to look down at you. “My beautiful wife, fuck taking me so good” he groaned.
You felt his cock already twitching inside you, he wasn’t gonna last long at this rate but neither were you. “S’good- always feel so good-“ you moaned out.
Chan watched as his cock reappeared and disappeared inside of you. Your walls were clenching around him, sucking him into you. “Made for me, for me only my pretty wife. Gonna- fuck- gonna cum so deep in you you’ll get pregnant” he mumbled out. “Gonna fuck a baby into yeah? Fuck gonna be my pretty pregnant wife- shit” his movements were turning sloppy. Hands slinking up to yours. He interlocked your fingers together as he fucked into you. “Y/n I love you fuck I love you so much” he moaned.
You gripped his hands tightly feeling your high about to wash over you. Chans head rested in the crook of your neck moaning into your ear as he sucked/bit at your neck. “Chan! I love you to! My- my handsome husband!” You almost screamed your orgasm crashing over you. As he heard those words fall from your lips you calling him your husband his mind just short circuited. His body stuttered on top of you as he pushed one last time cumming deep inside of you.
He let go of your hands wrapping his arms around you holding you tightly to him as your highs washed over you both. Panting Chan pulled away to look at you “y/n I love you, I love you I love you I love you” he repeated.
“I love you to my handsome husband” you said smiling. He kissed you lovingly before slowly pulling away.
“Wanna get in the big tub together?” He asked smiling.
“Is that even a question” you teased.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵
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Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp
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parkerluvsu · 9 days ago
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i am always thinking about art getting a little too tipsy and making his way back to his dorm room, only to find out that patricks got another girl in there.. so he makes the familiar trip to your dorm <3
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loud knocking echoes through your room, and you're thankful your roommate is on vacation or else you're sure she would complain endlessly. the knocking continues as you check the time. 1:45am. you mumble and yawn and rub your eyes as you walk to the door, opening it slowly and peeking out. there's art, red eyes and flushed cheeks, hair beautifully messed up from the wind outside. he sniffles. "'m sorry i really didn't mean t' wake you up.. jus' need somewhere t'sleep" he murmurs, grabbing onto the edge of your door for support. you welcome him in quickly, leading him like a shepherd leads his sheep to your bed, sitting him down.
"art.. what happened? it's so late" he takes a second to comprehend what you're saying. "well i wen' to this party 'n patrick left to go makeout with some girl.. 'n then these guys started a drinking game 'n wanted me t' join.. so i did and.." he pauses, obviously embarrassed. "'n then i drank too much and threw up on their lawn.. everyone was laughing.." he whines, looking to you as if you can turn back time to save him from humiliation. "oh art.." you look him up and down, his clothes are messed up and dirty, and he looks absolutely exhausted and miserable. "alright um.. here's what ill do, drink some water art, ill try to find you a shirt and some old shorts to wear okay? you can sleep here" you know you worry too much but in his current state you're worried someone might come along and take advantage of him on the walk back to his dorm.
art drains your water bottle like a man dying of thirst, looking up at you with watery eyes when you hand him some clothes. "my old boyfriend left these here so.. they probably fit you, and im sure you wouldn't want to wear my shorts.." art nods, taking the clothes, but in his drunken state he almost remarks that, no, he wouldn't mind wearing your shorts, the ounce of connection he would feel would be worth the embarrassment. art stumbles up and changes in the bathroom, you hear him knocking around in there for almost ten minutes before he emerges, pulling up the shorts that are almost falling off of his lean frame. with your help, he gets into bed, letting you tuck him in, in such a caring way that makes arts heart beat faster. "im just gonna be over in my roommates bed okay? sleep well art" you can tell that he wants to say something, but after a second he just nods his head and pulls the covers around him.
art lasts about 10 minutes before he's softly calling your name, half hoping you're already asleep so you won't reject him. to his (un)happiness, you turn over in bed, meeting his eyes across the room. "what's up?" you ask, smiling at the familiar whispering across the room that reminded you of many sleepovers as a child. "i- um can you just come over here?" he asks. you sigh, getting out of bed and quietly padding over to your bed. "i can't sleep" art states. you look at your clock placed on your desk, "well it has only been ten minutes art.. just give yourself some time." you turn to walk away but art grabs your wrist. "no.. um.. can you stay in this bed tonight?" if you weren't listening as hard as you would you wouldn't be able to hear the near-whisper that comes out of his mouth. "please?" he whines, looking up at you with those pathetic blue eyes of his. you can't help but agree, crawling in bed behind him, adjusting your pillow. "thank you" art squeaks out, curling up on himself.
now it's you who can't last ten minutes. looking at art, alone and sad tugs at your heartstrings, triggering an almost maternal care for him that you're sure will be problematic later. you move art so that his head is now placed on your shoulder, his warm steady breaths hitting the side of your neck. before you can think about it, your hand comes down to rub his back softly, reflecting that it always helped you fall asleep quick when your mother would do it. you feel arts eye lashes flutter against you as his eyes droop, body melting into yours as sleep takes over his body. you fall asleep only minutes later, secretly wishing that patrick would kick art out of his dorm more often <3
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gojosoups · 22 days ago
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Luffy x reader | oneshot, smut, 18+
Captain's Orders
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ღ summary: Perhaps the summer heat was finally getting to his head, making him feel delirious and restless, or perhaps it was the way the summer season looked so good on you, with sweat trickling down your neck and the strings of your bikini trying their best to keep you covered. But one thing was for sure, what bothered him most (despite his obliviousness), was the look Sanji kept throwing your way and his unwillingness to leave your side the whole day.
ღ pairing: jealous!luffy x reader
ღ warnings/tags: 18+, smut, established relationship, implied breeding kink, creampie, fingering, cum licking, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, feelings of jealousy, possessive behaviour, markings, female reader, female-bodied reader, slightly proofread, ooc?, luffy's big back is greedy
a/n: repost from my old blog because I impulsively deleted my account :/ also does anyone know the artist? cuz I wanna properly tag them
wc: 0.8k
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Jealous!Luffy who sat on his special seat on the Thousand Sunny, watching intently at the interaction before him. His back against the lion's head and arms crossed behind his head in a laid-back manner, despite the intensity of his stare. The captain's precious straw hat resting on his head tilted down, hiding the murderous glare directed at Sanji.
Jealous!Luffy who was stuck watching the interaction before him, how you have Sanji wrapped around your little finger, catering to your very beck and call. His glare unwavering as he saw the way Sanji was looking at you, at the way he was ogling at you, practically undressing you with his perverted eyes.
Jealous!Luffy who recognizes the look Sanji was giving you. Hell, it was the same look he has whenever he sees you. Although... Luffy can't blame Sanji for his lustful gaze, not when you were perched prettily on the lawn chair, looking like an appetizing meal, tempting and delicious.
Jealous!Luffy who was starting to get restless from how you were carelessly sitting there, looking pretty and taking every single compliment Sanji threw your way with a smile on your lovely face. He was getting frustrated from listening to your adorable giggles whenever Sanji showered you with compliments, bringing a smile to your glossy kissable lips. A tiny green monster crawling its way into his heart as he sat unmoving from his seat, watching another man treat you like you were his, when you belonged to Luffy.
Jealous!Luffy who will forever be a kid at heart. Greedy and possessive over what belongs to him. After all, what belongs to Luffy, is his. He did not like to share his food, and he definitely won't share you and the sweet dessert between your thighs. These were merely the captain's orders.
Jealous!Luffy who finally had enough. Getting up from the lion's head, Luffy made a beeline towards your direction. Ignoring the curious looks his other crew mates sent his way, his grip on your forearm firm, maybe a little too firm, and pulling you up as the chair launches to the floor. Ignoring your protests and questions, he made his way towards the women's cabin with you meekly following behind.
Jealous!Luffy who can be impatient at times, kicking the door open and throwing you onto the bed. He can be so impatient, and forgetful too, about locking the door. But you can't blame him, can you? Not when you look breathtaking with your bare back against the bed, your pathetic excuse of a bikini hastily taken off and thrown across the room, and your hair sprawled across the sheets, framing your beautiful face. There was no need for him to tell you what to do, it had become routine work for you.
Jealous!Luffy who can be so mean at times, eagerly coating himself with your slick, before aligning with your slutty pussy and thrusting his cock inside your warm cunt with little to no prep. But he couldn't help himself, not when your silky warm walls were clenching on his cock, trying to milk him for everything he's worth, and especially not when he had you squirming and crying underneath him, begging him for more and more and more. He couldn't help himself, not when the squelching sounds the both of you made were music to his ears, or how the drag of his veins running along the underside of his cock felt like pure heaven against your spongy tight walls.
Jealous!Luffy who worshiped your very existence, marking you as his for others to see. He left bruises and bite marks across your delicate skin, decorating every inch of you his hands or mouth could find. His grip on your hips never weakened, nails digging into your flesh and leaving behind crescent shapes. He continued with his assault. Kissing, licking, and biting from your neck and collarbone, all the way to the valley of your breasts.
Jealous!Luffy who’s pace only increased with each thrust, going harder and faster as he desperately chased after his and your release. Your back arched and nails digging in his back desperately for stability as you clench impossibly tight on his dick, pulling him in further as you come undone around him. But Luffy wasn't done with you just yet.
Jealous!Luffy who kept fucking your poor cunt over and over again, chasing after his release. Until finally, he came. The tip of his cock kissing your cervix as he released his seed deep inside your fertile cunt. Your name rolling off the tip of his tongue like a prayer.
Jealous!Luffy who watched your sensitive pussy spill out his cum, unable to keep it all stuffed inside your tight hole. Using his right index and middle finger, he played around with the mixture of his and your cum, spreading it across your poor puffy lips and pushing it back into your sweet hole. Bringing his fingers to his mouth, he happily cleaned them, humming in approval at his satisfied hunger.
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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐒 — do not copy, translate, repost or modify my works on any platform.
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logansdoll · 3 months ago
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Heyyy it would be awesome if you wrote a third part for “37” where Charles gives Logan’s memories back and we go through flashbacks of some of his best memories, his wedding, the day his kids were born…something like that, it would be very heartwarming 🥰🥰🥰 or even maybe coming back from the past and seeing his kids again
sunflower
part three of "37"
CW: fluffy fluff, all the feels, suggestive, profanity, takes place after the events of Days Future Past, very bittersweet, your daughter's a lil menace, your son's a lil cutie pie, angst if you squint, i never know how to end these things, etc.
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"Logan, the mind is a fickle thing," Charles sighed, resting his hands on his desk with a solemn look. "I can't possibly guarantee that this will work, much less in one session—" "I don't care how long it takes."
Logan's face drew tight with the statement, his patience visibly wearing thin.
He'd been listening to the same bullshit for twenty minutes...
"I don't care if I need a hundred different fuckin' sessions. I'm gettin' these memories back," he spelled out, leaning forward in his seat and roughly tapping his finger on the desk. "It doesn't make any damn sense. This body's been in this timeline for fifty-fuckin'-years and it doesn't remember shit."
"Because it is your consciousness that is the problem, Logan," Charles groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That is what I've been trying to tell you."
Logan piped down for a moment, brows knitting together as he leaned back in his seat, taking an annoyed drag of his cigar.
"Your psyche is from a completely different timeline, and now resides in a completely different body. It's like asking to recall the memories of a random person walking down the street," the professor explained, again.
Sadly, he hung his head, greatly sorry for the misfortune of his friend.
"I wish there was something I could do, Logan. Truly. But I'm afraid it just can't be done."
But Logan didn't buy it.
Huffing a small plume of smoke out his nose, he glanced out the window, catching sight of you teaching a class on the lawn.
Using your powers, you grew a large sunflower out from the ground, the younger kids marveling at the sight as you began pointing out its anatomy, most of them enamored by the huge petals—which were bigger than their little six year-old frames.
And in a small pause in time, your eyes flitted up to meet his through the window, that heart-stopping smile finding its way onto your lips as you gave him a tiny wave.
It warmed him, experiencing your light for the first time in years without the threat of annihilation on the horizon.
Domesticity like this is something he'd craved all his life, and now that he had it in his grasp, he wasn't going to settle for anything less.
A stilling chill descended on his chest at the thought of your smile, and the countless others he'd missed.
Your tears of joy when he proposed.
Your frazzled excitement with the wedding planning.
Your radiance as you walked down the aisle.
He missed it all.
And he'd be damned if he didn't do everything in his power to try and get it back.
"Charles..." Logan started, stamping out his cigar in a nearby ashtray. "My whole life is standin' out there under that tree... and I can't remember a goddamn thing about her after 1973."
His tone turned cold, eyes sharp as he stared the professor down.
"I don't care if you have to rip my head in half... I'm gettin' those memories back."
The old man let out a sigh, accepting that going on like this would bring no other outcome.
He'd have to give the man what he wanted... consequences be damned.
'Let's hope he survives...'
"This will be violent," Charles stated off-rip, wheeling himself out from behind his desk. "I am essentially hammering your mind like a dam, making cracks in its defenses until it eventually gives way."
Logan nodded, watching as the man settled in front of him, raising his two fingers to his temple.
"Now... try not to move."
Logan shut his eyes, and in an instant, it felt as if his head was struck by a speeding train.
He let out a growl of pain as images began to flash behind his eyes, the next one always coming quicker than the last.
"Hon, which color do you think would go best with my complexion? Eggshell or Porcelain?" you asked, eagerly holding up two different swatches against your skin.
"You look beautiful in anything, baby," he stated as if it was the simplest thing in the world, wrapping an arm around your waist. "Either one is fine."
"As sweet as that is... it doesn't help," you huffed, playfully attempting to scold him.
"Fine then. Eggshell," he answered, quickly.
You raised a brow, an amused smile playing at your lips as you leaned in closer, "Are you just saying that to get me to shut up?"
He let out a chuckle, resting his forehead against yours, "Never."
Yes...
"Can't wait 'til this damn reception is over," he growled in your ear, lips dragging down your neck as you both hid in a nearby hallway. "First time I've been alone with you since I do."
"Logan..." you gasped, tucking your lip between your teeth in an attempt to muffle yourself as he tightly grasped your hips. "Someone'll hear..."
"Then I guess you better keep quiet," he smirked against your skin, giving your collarbone a soft nip.
It's all coming back...
"Logan..." you started, nervously, hands held firmly behind your back. "I have something to tell you... and I'm open to talk about it if you're upset..."
His brows furrowed as he turned away from his dresser, looking toward you with an air of concern.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his protective instinct spiking at the sight of your fearful expression. "What happened?"
Unable to say it, you slowly held up your hand, revealing a positive pregnancy test.
His eyes widened like saucers, throat drying at the tiny piece of plastic.
"You're... pregnant?"
You nodded, silently, his reaction not soothing your anxiety one bit.
But, as if on cue, he moved toward you, striding across the room and pulling you into a bone crushing hug.
"I'm gonna be a father..." he muttered into your hair, the phrase not one he thought he'd ever hear. "I'm gonna be a father..."
Wait...
"Logan!" you cried, tears welling in your eyes as you glanced up at him, scared. "I can't...mmmph fuck!... I can't do it! Hurts too much!"
"C'mon, baby, keep pushin'. You're doin' so good," he cooed, swiping stray strands of hair out your face as the nurse on the other side of the bed helped cheer you on. "Just a little bit more. You're right there."
With a grunt, you squeezed his hand tight, letting out a growl of pain as you gave another push.
Pop!
Logan's eyes shot wide, the man nearly biting through his tongue as he glanced down at his hand.
You dislocated his finger.
Though it seemed to be worth it as that final push was what did it.
"It's a girl!" the doctor smiled, carefully holding up the newborn.
Looking upon her small, chubbed face, Logan felt a sense of protectiveness sink into his chest—one that he only felt when things came to you.
In that moment, and every moment after that, he knew he would lay his life down for her, no question.
And she wasn't even a minute old yet.
I have—
"James! Get back here!" a little girl squealed with laughter, bursting into the office after a little boy, who looked terrified.
Logan snapped out his head with a gasp, shooting up from his seat and unsheathing his claws out of muscle memory.
'James...'
Quickly, Logan retracted his claws as the boy ducked behind his leg, gripping tightly onto his jeans as the girl stormed over.
She looked just like you, save for a few small details, and had a small snaggle-tooth poking out on her right side, only adding to her adorableness.
Not to mention the bone claws she had protruding from her knuckles.
"No fair! You can't hide behind Dad every time you're scared!" she furrowed her brows, upset.
"Mommy told you about your claws, Laura..." James mumbled, voice barely above a whisper as he shyly peeked out from behind his human shield.
'Laura...'
The boy was Logan's mirror image, looking almost exactly like he did at that age..
Apple doesn't fall too far from the tree...
Charles could sense the pieces clicking in Logan's mind, and figured lending a hand would be best after what he'd been through.
"Logan, these are your—" "Laura Marie Howlett!" your voice cut in, the little girl flinching at the sound.
Quickly, she retracted her claws, whipping around with a guilty smile, which was met by your less-than-approving glare.
"What have I told you about chasing your brother inside? And what have I told you about using your claws to do it?" you scolded, walking into the office. "You two are interrupting your father and Professor Xavier."
Logan let out a soft sigh, taking the moment to finally look over his family.
Like a slow moving stream, things were coming back to him, the feeling like a fog clearing from the recesses of his mind.
Every birthday.
Every boo-boo.
Every first.
Slowly but surely, they were all returning.
Without warning, Logan dropped to his knees, pulling the two kids into a tight hug, fiercely fighting off the emotion swelling in his chest.
"Daddy?" James squeaked, concerned.
"Are you okay?" Laura asked, confused.
He nodded, silently, the sight making your heart both burst and ache.
After all this time, your husband was truly whole.
Fifty years of suffering and agony had finally come to an end.
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taglist !!
@catiwinky @seamlessepiphany @vinaluvsu @kellyxo1 @amandarobertsboyce  @captainloki1 @qveendiorsworld @sarahskywalker-amidala @mei-simp @oatmilkriver @br3nt-12 @bimboshaggy @lightsgore @edszn @couturewinx @sunroxic @notanotheroldman @bontensbabygirl @buckleysg1rl @marvelgirlie-4 @eljaynosine-triphosphate @nickf1 @pinkisokay @mercurysjoy
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howlsofbloodhounds · 4 months ago
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I think my favorite “fanon” interpretations of nightmare have to be like cartoonishly evil and silly. Or like, old and powerful and grumpy about it and you best get off his lawn.
Peepaw Nightmare, he complains about his back and how “back in my day!” and he calls Killer “boy” when he’s upset with him. “Boy quiet.” “Boy quiet.” “Boy quiet now.”
Killer uses the movements of his tentacles to predict the weather like some older folk say they can feel the weather changing thanks to things like their “bad knee.”
And most of the time NM’s tentacles usually can predict the weather. Nightmare smacks killer over the head with his tentacle like an older man hitting the ankles of youngsters with a cane for being rowdy.
And like peepaw is really knowledgeable about a ton of things but also doesn’t keep up with modern technology and killer uses this to fuck with him for amusement. Convinced him a roomba is some type of highly intelligent pet.
And nightmare knows he’s being fucked with, but he’s just too stubborn and prideful to “get with the times.” And killer knows that he knows, so it’s like a game to see who cracks first.
Peepaw Nightmare uses the “it’s because you’re always on that damn phone” with killer a lot. Even in situations where it doesn’t make any sense. Killer threatens to put him in a nursing home frequently.
And nightmare has this big specific chair thats just for him and everyone knows it but it’s become a game to see who can sit on it for how long without getting caught. (Cross is the only one refusing to probably).
Killer frequently hears “why can’t you be more like cross and dust?” from the old man whenever he’s Had Enough of the antics.
And nightmare knits like cartoonishly evil versions of holiday sweaters for the group and has like the fucked up creepy doll equivalent of a beanie baby or porcelain doll collection. Dust feels like a sort of kinship with dolls and the other dudes have like a comical fear or aversion to them. Nightmare named every one like they’re his kids & the only ones understanding it r error & dust.
Everyone else refuses to call the dolls by name, besides cross who does it in a reluctant creeped out way.
Nightmare & error have old people beef over aus like old neighbors beefing over property lines & mowing the others lawn or something. & nm beefs with color about being a “good influence” on killer.
Nightmare calls dream at random intervals just to curse him out and insult him before hanging up and refuses to answer whenever Dream calls first. The “stars vs bad sanses” “negativity vs positivity” war/balance doesn’t actually exist or is just tipped enough in nightmare’s favor that he doesn’t worry about it so instead the twins just squabble over the golden apple though phone like its a custody battle over a beloved pet.
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