#I just had feelings to get out and yes its my blog but i didn't want to clog the airways)
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Just to minimize my chances of being genuinely misunderstood OR deliberately misinterpreted, and crucified for something I don't think, How Dare You Say We Piss on the Poor website etc...I'm gonna say this right up top. I absolutely understand why people don't like Thessaly as a character, if anyone does completely unironically stan her as some kind of feminist hero who Did Nothing Wrong uwu, I personally see it as a bit of a red flag. I don't like terfs real or fictional. In a vacuum, I could even completely sympathize and agree with the people who want her cut.
HOWEVER.
It's really something to me to see people clamoring for her to be cut, because she carries and expressed an ugly indefensible prejudice (transphobia) in words towards (1) person. Meanwhile Hob fucking Gadling enacted one of the most violent forms of antiblack racism I can even think of against thousands no, millions of people, the ripple effects of which still affect billions more today. Just a little light idk, profiting off the fucking slave trade and had to be told by someone else that it was bad...and he's a fan favorite.
People are saying Thessally being Dream's love interest reflects badly on him or is somehow endorsement by the narrative (?!?!?!?!?!? Didn't she (SPOILER ALERT AS IF IT MATTERS BY NOW) help participate in his extended assisted suicide? She's not painted as a great person to me just another character what are y'all SMOKING whatever fine. It's fine this is fine.) But shipping Dream with Mr. Former Slaver is not only not verboten or frowned on widely in the fandom but its THEE most popular pairing by far. So...why the difference?
Like where are the same fans who are saying Thessaly shouldn't just be more clearly shown to be wrong, she shouldn't even be in the show at all when it comes to Hobert's crimes??? Yes, transphobia is indefensible. Isn't racism?
And I hear the cries of "it's fiction!!!" Already rallying (if anyone who needs to hear this even sees it lol) to which I say:
HORSESHIT. I KNOW you don't, deep down, really agree because if you did, why get upset about Thessaly being included??? Why does what she said to one person matter if it's Just Fiction You Guyze. Fictional characters are allowed to do bad things and fiction isn't reality sweaty....except when you only apply that standard to fictional racists you like and simp for, but fictional transphobes you don't are SO HARMFUL they shouldn't even be portrayed in fiction.
Like. Give me a big fat BREAK. This looks like bullshit, no? I'm sorry, but I'd love for someone to try and give any other explanation besides one personally offended you or hit home for you, and the other doesn't.
And if that bothers you or you feel like it says something negative about you...idk what you want me to say??? You can't control how other people perceive you and that's how people outside this majority-of-the-fandom bubble see it. You don't need to respond, I just wish and genuinely hope this gives you a moment to think about why fans who ARE bothered by both (and not just paying lip service to being bothered by the one but railing against the other) are so frustrated with people saying everyone is welcome but in practice only bending over backwards for the comfort and emotions of themselves, and people they can easily relate to.
You don't have to like Thessaly (I don't. I find her an interesting antagonist, I don't stan her. And frankly imo likability is not. the point of her character) but you'll pardon me for feeling more than a bit cynical and side eying people's motivations for what seems a...pretty obvious double standard, on what fictional crimes related to real world issues matter to y'all, and which clearly don't. Either actually bring the same energy to the table for fictional people who committed atrocities, even if against a group you're not part of and thus don't feel the need to empathize with, or just carry on, but accept that you don't have the SLIGHTEST room to talk about cutting characters who do immoral things. And you also need to accept that you look like a hypocrite when you do.
#thessaly#wanda the sandman#hob gadling#fandom racism#I could've cried sexism!!! Problematic Male vs Female Characters except 1) I don't actually think that's the main reason *here*#2) there are WAY better examples of that particular double standard in this fandom#also i can admit when I'm a bit of a hypocrite or was.#i used to dip my toes into the dreamling stuff too early on#but idk. It just got too sour seeing ppl whitewash (lol I know I'm a comedian)#what he did over and over. And I genuinely had started to wonder#if the show hadn't included that particular crime and I'd just imagined it from the comics because#my memory is shit sometimes and I guess I was naive. I *wanted* to believe someone would talk aboutit#if it had made it in. but ultimately i went back and checked and no#and seeing how the whole fandom behaving affected my non-white mutuals some of whom...#like these are my friends man or ppl I just respect and I can't just. Ignore their feelings and their pov#and act like they werent making points or it doesn't matter#like it's all just fun and games for everyone on the same terms. And seeing how easy it was#for everyone to ignore was so unsettling. I couldn't keep pretending it was just fiction and didn't affect anyone real#Call me a bully a t3rf apologist (fuck you and for the record. no)#a puritan or a Fancop (actually stop comparing#people disagreeing with you online to what cops do. For fucks sake you just make it look like nothing is really real to you outside fandom)#whatever man. Whatever helps you sleep. I'm just gonna block you#if you're clearly sticking your fingers in your ears. engaging with you is a waste of time and energy then#Hell I have sympathy for anyone who doesn't like thessaly#especially trans fans. Especially rn. But lbr that sympathy for a lot of the white trans/queer fans only goes one way!!!#never gets extended to anyone else's issues. Like THATSthe issue. And it's shitty!#(sorry this post is not about me in the confessional lol that's why I put this at the bottom#I just had feelings to get out and yes its my blog but i didn't want to clog the airways)
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Please do not send me asks for donations
Here's why:
I have NO money to give you
I'm not a popular enough blog that I will give you any reach
I am a minor, and most of my followers are too
It makes me feel extremely guilty
Seeing pictures of injuries or hospitals etc are triggering for me (which are in most intro posts for this sort of thing)
They are always worded in a way that makes me feel like I am a murderer if I don't donate
It makes me feel uncomfortable
I said I don't want them, and my boundaries should be respected
I can't tell what is a bot and what isn't (although I know a large portion of them are NOT bots)
I get a lot of spam from this. It is disappointing to see 10 new asks in my inbox just to be the same ask for donations over and over
Please, just respect the fact that I have said this.
If you want this in your pinned post, please don't credit me. You can copy the words or take a screenshot with my username cropped out. You can reblog this but please don't go on about how awful you find it. I get it, but also if you spiral two much you might end up accidentally saying something bad. This post has led to a lot of hate anons and harassment, so I would rather not have too much attention. Thanks...
Edits, boundaries and facts below (probably for the best if you read them too- especially if you are considering sending me hate)
Edit: To all the people reblogging this, I'm sorry you have had to deal with this too. And yes, you can put this in your pinned post! Stay safe <3
Edit 2: I am pro Palestine and want to do everything I can to help but I'm not financially or mentally well enough to do much. I'm not in support of these people dying. Also, this post isn't just about Palestine. It's about ALL asks for donations. I'm not doing favouritism or racism. I just can't deal with it. Don't harass me for expressing boundaries.
Edit 3: Yes, this post might seem controversial. But I did literally make this for my own personal experience and didn't expect it to get more than 12 notes or so. You can agree with this post, pin this post, reblog this post, I don't care really. But don't add opposing views because quite frankly, it's none of your business. It's not my problem and I didn't mean for this post to get so many notes. Edit 2 mostly covered what I'm trying to say here, but don't use the number of notes as an excuse to fight me. I just want a peaceful Tumblr experience. Also, if you are reblogging this, don't trauma dump. I keep notifications on for this post so that I can block people harassing me before shit escalates, so I can see every reblog. You can screenshot and repost if you want to talk about your problems, but honestly its no better seeing people saying "I'm bankrupt and I just got kicked out by my family. I also have a history of abuse and those images are so triggering that I want to die". That doesn't help me. Make your own post to say that. Please
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Dating the Hazbin Hotel Residents 😈
Tags: GN!Reader, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Mature Topics (ie. Suicidal Thoughts, Alcohol Abuse, SA, etc), Spoilers For The Show, etc.
A/N: Ahhh yes, more brainriot for the pile 😌 I was more of a Helluva gal before the show aired, but now I gotta say these blorbos are a dear part of my heart! Hopefully y'all enjoy these as much as I did writing them!
Consider following my main blog @taruchinator for more solid content & feel free to leave a request here for future HCs~
Charlie 🌈
When the Happy Hotel first opened its doors and all of Hell started making a mockery of it, you were probably the only one who took it as a sign to try and improve from the low life that you were. It's not like you had anything else to live for, anyway.
As soon as you enter the building, you're immediately greeted by the bubbly Princess of Hell herself (along with a reluctant Angel Dust) who is more than happy to show you around and welcomes you with open arms.
You've never been shown this much kindness and sympathy for your situation before, so it naturally takes you aback and makes you wonder what the catch is. Turns out there's none and the Princess is probably the only sweet soul to live in this shithole.
As you grow closer, she asks you to drop the title and just call her Charlie. She also shares a bit about her situation and how her mother wanted to save sinners from the extermination each year, and now Charlie felt like it was her duty to continue this legacy until her dreams came true.
You can't help but feel touched over how much she cares, so you silently vow to yourself to help her in any way you can, just like she's done for you.
It doesn't take long before the two of you grow even closer and feelings begin to blossom, but you decide to ignore them since why would a Princess ever like someone like you?
But Charlie proves you wrong yet again, since one day she comes to you a blushing mess and confesses her own feelings, asking if you'd like to go out with her. You can't help but vocalize your shock since she could do so much better than a random sinner. She deserved better, too.
She looks at you with fondness in her eyes. “You've been by my side for so long and supported me every step of the way. Who wouldn't fall for someone like that?��
And thus, you are the luckiest person in Hell because you scored Charlotte Morningstar, and whoever says otherwise can get a knife to their throat.
She's the perfect definition of a sweet and patient girlfriend, never pushing you to do anything you aren't comfortable with (since you really aren't used to such adoration in a romantic relationship), but as soon as you give her the get-go, she'll be sure to shower you with as much affection as she can until the doubts in your mind disappear completely.
You aren't that far behind either. Albeit not as good as her, you do your best to be a comforting partner whenever she needs you. This is especially necessary after an extermination happens, which always leaves Charlie devastated and in need of a hug or words of encouragement because she doubts herself sometimes and wonders if the hotel is even working at all.
You remind her how it brought the two of you together, to which she smiles and agrees that at least something good has come out of it so far.
Vaggie 🎀
Both you and Vaggie used to work in the same legion under Adam with the rest of his exorcists. You knew of each other's existence, but didn't really talk much aside from whatever was needed in the midst of battle.
The day she spares a demon child's life, you're doing your rounds nearby and witness the whole exchange, including Lute coming over and ripping both an eye and Vaggie's wings for showing mercy. You don't know why, but it makes your blood boil.
“HEY! What are you doing?! It was just a kid, why not let it slide?”
And just like that, you become a target of Lute's rage as well, being ripped from your angelic status along with receiving a few nasty cuts, yet surprisingly not as bad as Vaggie herself.
Once the two of you are left to die, you immediately try to tend the girl's wounds with whatever you can. Vaggie can only stare in disbelief at what you'd done and questions why you even did so in the first place—now you were stuck just like she was.
“Guess I just don't like seeing injustice... Who knew Heaven could be so fuckin' shitty?”
You both laugh at the irony of it all, and that's when luck is finally on your side as Charlie finds you in the dirty alley and brings you back to the hotel to heal properly.
For the next three years you two stay at the Hazbin Hotel, helping Charlie in any way you can to try and make her dream a reality since deep down you hope that despite Heaven's corrupt system, there can be a small chance that souls can be redeemed. You hide the fact that you're ex-Anges though, since you don't wanna cause unnecessary drama.
During this time period, the two of you become better friends, having your own inside jokes regarding things you didn't particularly enjoy from your time as Angels, as well as learning more about one another.
You're the one to come to terms with your feelings first and decide to lay them on the table for Vaggie to see—she's always been a straight-to-the-point kind of gal, so if you're about to be rejected, might as well have it be done quick. But of course, she replies with her own declaration and desire to give a relationship a shot, which you're ecstatic about!
It's a bit hard at first since you never got to see much of romantic relationships in Heaven while training for murder every year, but you try and make it work. Both you and Vaggie work endlessly to try and make the other happy, and it only makes you fall for each other even more.
Also Charlie is your go-to wingwoman who will be there to give you the best advice to try and woo your girlfriend. She ships you two so hard.
Angel Dust 🕸
Working at a porn studio under an Overlord who owns your soul can be exhausting. You know this better than anyone since everyone who works under Valentino has contracts that won't let you get far with a leash. This is especially true with your friend Angel Dust.
You know about the things Valentino does to the spider demon—hell, everyone in the studio probably knows, but know better than to say anything about it. You're always there for Angel after particularly rough shoots, doing your best to comfort him in any way you can, though there isn't much you can do given you're in the same spot.
When he tells you he's moving to Princess Charlie's Hazbin Hotel, you're so happy for him! At least that will give him some distance from Valentino and his disgustingly filthy hands when he's not working.
This unsurprisingly doesn't bode well with the Overlord, causing him to throw fits of rage around the studio when Angel leaves for the day. You can't help but make a snarky comment that you definitely regret moments later.
“Can one blame him for wanting space from such an overbearing asshole?”
Without his favorite stress toy around, you end up paying the price for such comments. The kind of pain and suffering he puts you through is completely different from what you're used to. Is this the stuff he does to Angel? He leaves you naked, bruised and bloody in your room, and all you can do is muster what little strenght you have left to head for the Hazbin Hotel.
As soon as the door opens, you immediately tumble forward and start losing consciousness. The last thing you remember is Angel's horrified expression before it all fades to black.
Once you wake up and have been patched up, you explain what happened at the studio, and you could've sworn you saw fire in Angel's eyes as he holds on to you, fearing you might disappear at any moment. He begs you to stay in the hotel with him, and you agree without hesitation.
And so, your new routine of heading to work and then coming back to the hotel becomes blissful, not having to deal with that lunatic mothman more than necessary. You also get to spend time off with your best friend, which is always a plus.
Well, ‘best friend’ might not be the best way to describe it. You'd developed a crush on the spider demon even before this whole incident occurred, and now that you were spending more time with him, it only continued to grow.
With the line of work you two had, romantic relationships didn't seem to be a thing that crossed anybody's mind since why have a permanent partner when you could just go around fucking the hottest people in Hell? But you knew your feelings were far beyond from sexual, but didn't wanna ruin what you already had going for you.
One heartfelt drunken conversation after work however, makes you do a double take—Angel likes you back. And that both scares and excites you. But with both of you going over the pros and cons with each other, you decide to give it a chance.
You make sure to always have Angel's consent when it comes to physical intimacy—anything from holding his hand, to kissing to just cuddling. He jokes about not being a porcelain doll, but deep down you know he appreciates it.
You're also there for the rough nights, when he comes home wanting nothing more than to die again and let the earth swallow him whole. Words of reassurance are spoken and you can only hold him and let him cry as you vow to do anything in your power to stop this from happening again.
Husker 🍺
As one of the first guests of the hotel, like any wayward sinner, you find yourself in the bar more often than you'd like. Alcohol killed you in the first place, yet not even in the afterlife could you seem to pull yourself from its grasp.
It's a somewhat welcome surprise to find out that the bartender is going through a similar struggle. He still serves you drinks and lends and ear whenever he's not busy, but will occasionally drop the words of wisdom to watch your fill.
Eventually you two find yourselves doing this little back and forth and aid each other when you're in your dark places—Husk won't let you near the bottle if he sees you're about to knock yourself out, meanwhile you're there to look after him when he has one too many drinks and can't take care of himself.
Not to say he isn't a good drinking buddy—you've found out most of the gossip around the hotel thanks to this sneaky little cat demon and there's never a dull moment with him around.
You learn about his deal with Alastor during a particularly bad night, when Husk's had one too many and isn't thinking straight. You don't bring it up, but now have an eye open for whenever the Radio Demon drags your friend away.
Angel's the one who brings up your questionable relationship to the surface.
“So... you two like, fuckin' each other, or what?”
Your entire face goes red, and if it weren't for the dark fur you could swear you see Husk looking the same. He's quick to get rid of Angel's nosy ass, but now the seed has been planted in your brain—do you like Husk that way?
After careful consideration, you come to the conclusion that yes, you do. And it's honestly kinda terrifying considering how relationships don't usually work out in Hell, at least from what you've seen. Besides, even if you did try and confess, there was always the possibility of him not feeling the same and just being embarrassed by Angel's comment.
So in an attempt to make your feelings disappear, you stop frequenting the bar. Who knew the best way to stop drinking habits was trying to avoid spending time with your unrequited crush?
But of course, Husk isn't stupid. He sees the change in your behavior and let's it slide for a while, until he eventually corners you and asks what's wrong. You decide to get it all out of the way and tell him how you feel.
To the embarrassment of both of you, he holds your hand firmly between his and darts his eyes toward the corner of the room. “Next time you should ask before going off assuming things, ya got it?”
And so, your glass may have been empty that day, but your heart had never felt fuller.
Sir Pentious 🐍
You meet Sir Pentious when you sign into the hotel, and your immediate thought is just how can this snake man be so adorkable, it should be illegal.
As you greet the other residents and staff, you're quick to strike a conversation with him, which based on his body language he was not expecting. He starts telling you a bit about his weaponry and other contraptions, and you can't help but be fascinated by it.
You're a bit of a tinkerer yourself, albeit you've only dabbled in small scale projects—nothing compared to the massive canons and aircrafts that Pentious seems to be familiar with.
He acts like a kid opening gifts on Sinmas when he talks to you about his inventions, clearly never having anyone show interest before. Eventually he'll even ask for your input on certain smaller projects he wants to work on to help around the hotel, all to thank Charlie for being so kind to him and giving him a second chance. You're obviously eager to help!
You two start spending so much time together that the egg boys have started calling you ‘Boss #2’, much to Pentious' embarrassment and your amusement.
One afternoon once exercises are done for the day, the snake demon seems much more fidgety than usual as he invites you over to his room to continue working on his security system prototype. He's a blabbering mess once he has you sitting down and your heart just can't help but swell at each little syllable.
“Dearest (y/n)... you've, um, well... you are a huge inspiration for my work! A-And I wouldn't have been able to create any of this... without your help. You are kind, and smart and very talented.... and w-well, um I-”
You gotta silence the man with a kiss otherwise you two would be here all day. He's puddy in your hands and you can only giggle in return. “I really like you too, Pen.”
Everyone is either saying they called it or groaning in annoyance because fucking FINALLY, you two were just dancing around each other like idiots. The egg boys are just so happy to have someone else besides Pentious to be in their lives, and will do their best to look out for you just like with their own boss.
So yeah, prepare yourself for some sickeningly sweet gestures from this guy cause he will go above and beyond to get you what you need/want even if it kills him (again). And you can confidently say that you'd do the same in return.
Alastor 📻
After running in the same circles when you were alive, it's no surprise to you to end up in Hell, although you never would've suspected that you'd find yourself in the same place as him. It was honestly a huge relief not having to go through this all by yourself.
As Alastor exerted his dominance over Hell as the Radio Demon, you were powerful enough to be an Overlord yes, but rather liked keeping it on the down low instead of making a spectacle of yourself (Alastor was the one for theatrics anyway). Because of this, only select few knew of your true power and what you were capable of.
Instead, if there was one thing you were known for, it was being the only soul allowed to be close to the Radio Demon without the risk of death.
Yes, Alastor was a sadistic, cold-blooded and egotistical mastermind, but he wasn't a monster. You knew that better than anyone. Although the reactions he had to other demons treating you like a joke or calling you the ‘Radio Demon's Pet’ were not helping his case.
“ł₣ ɎØɄ V₳ⱠɄɆ ɎØɄⱤ ₴ØɄⱠ, ɎØɄ ₩łⱠⱠ ₩₳Ⱡ₭ ₳₩₳Ɏ Ɽł₲Ⱨ₮ ₦Ø₩ ฿Ɇ₣ØⱤɆ ł Ɽł₱ ł₮ ₳₱₳Ɽ₮ ฿ł₮ ฿Ɏ ฿ł₮...”
“Al, chill. You're gonna make them shit their pants.”
After his seven year absence, you immediately noticed something was wrong with him, and wouldn't stop pestering until he told you the truth—A deal he made and how his soul was now bound to someone much more powerful than he was.
You were obviously mortified and started looking into ways to try and find a loophole to this, but alas the Radio Demon would just give you his signature grin and tell you not to worry about it. It was his battle to face.
But of course you're quick to remind him that you've stuck together through thick and thin even in life, so there was no way you were letting him handle this by himself. You work as a team—always have and always will. You engulf him in a hug.
“We're gonna figure this out, Al. I promise...”
The grin remains, but his eyes widen slightly in surprise. He hesitantly returns the embrace, patting your back and wiping the tears you didn't even know you were shedding.
“There there~ To think such a sweet and innocent soul wound up in a gutter like this. I cannot say I complain as long as I have your delightful company beside me.”
And so when he says he has a plan that involves Princess Charlie Morningstar and her new Happy Hotel, you follow along. Whatever fate has in store for you two, you'll be ready.
Also Charlie is a sweetheart who could do no harm. Knowing Alastor, he'll probably do whatever he can here and there to help around for the cause. You also offer your services as an undercover Overlord, much to everyone's surprise when you reveal your status.
The Radio Demon may have a plan, but something tells you it won't involve bloody murder (unless extremely necessary or if someone really pissed him off).
Like you said—he's not a monster.
Lucifer 🍎
You and Lucifer were good friends at the beginning of Creation. While you were stuck with the tedious task of designing blueprints for the new ‘Human Project’ that headquarters had in store, Lucifer's Seraphim status allowed him to bring creations to life with the flick of a wrist, much to your delight and wonder.
His ideas and pitches for Earth were always so entertaining to listen to, and you would do your best to encourage him to show them to the higher ups to get them approved—His mind was just filled with joy and love and wonder that you'd never seen before.
Which was why it was always so disappointing whenever he'd come back and say that he was shut down and even mocked at. How could Heaven shut down such an imaginative mind in the creation of their biggest project yet?
To say you were devastated when you heard about his fall would be an understatement. You mourned the loss of your friend, knowing that he'd done nothing wrong and thinking it wasn't fair to him to receive such punishment just because he cared for the future of humanity.
Thousands of years later, you overhear the plan for Extermination of Hell kind. You didn't mean to walk by, yet here you were, under the direct eye of the Head Seraphims about to be downcast for something you had no control over—just like Lucifer.
“You're all self-entitled pricks! You think you can do whatever you want just because it doesn't follow what you define as good!”
You get a few good arguments before being cast downwards, leaving you in bad shape in a random alley with no wings and no means of escape. That is of course, until destiny seems to be on your side and Lucifer finds you, completely perplexed to see you here at all.
After getting treated, you tell him about the Extermination so he and Hell can prepare. The conversation of you getting cast down by Heaven gets glossed over, but he can feel the fury building up inside him. You were always doing things by the book—how could they do this to you?
Once the slaughter is over, Lucifer gets a meeting with Heaven and secures protection for both his daughter Charlie and you, to which they begrudgingly agree to keep him outta their hair. You can't help but feel touched by this gesture.
He's also quick to offer you a room to stay in, but you compromise by living in a seperate building from him and Charlie so you aren't a bother even though he says you aren't. In fact, ever since Lilith left, he's had to take care of his young daughter all by himself, so he's more than happy when you offer to help.
It doesn't take long for your feelings to start coming into the surface from all those years ago, and you gotta push them away because he's both married and has a child to look after! Besides, why would the King of Hell ever look in your direction?
Eventually though, he brings up the question with nothing but sweaty palms and a customized rubber ducky that says ‘I love you’ whenever you squeeze it. You blush furiously, but can't help but bring up your concerns, not wanting to replace Lilith in his heart. He looks into your eyes and says that he hasn't been as happy as he is now in the past thousand years.
Cue baby Charlie walking in on everything, and she just smiles and goes innocently. “Daddy! Is (y/n) staying home with us now?”
You two can only chuckle at the cuteness of it and you immediately go to hug her. You couldn't believe that you were blessed with such a wonderful family.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel spoilers#hazbin hotel x reader#charlie morningstar x reader#vaggie x reader#angel dust x reader#alastor x reader#sir pentious x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader#husker x reader#husk x reader
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[18+]
Introducing - Shy Perv/Horny Alien Darling who's happy to be kidnapped by cute little humans if it means they'll get their dick touched.
Bound and chained up in their kidnappers home - Darling has but one question as their obsessive stalker declares their undying love and how darling will never, ever leave their side again-
"s.... since we're dating now....may - can I touch your breasts?"
Alien Darling from a planet where sleeping with another person for pleasure is looked down upon and intimacy is not seen as common . There's hardly any need for it in terms of reproduction either as technology has mostly taken over in the entire process. Needless to say, Darling is blown away when they learn about earth and some of its cultures. They want to go on dates, and hold hands with someone cute, and maybe even kiss them, and- and.... There's just so much for them to do.
Darling ends up on earth one way or another - working their way up to a far enough life as a cashier. Approaching humans in a romantic/sexual tense is a bit difficult when you only have experience from the films you've seen in the short span of time you've known about them. Darling remains alone and finds fulfilment elsewhere on the internet and with human toys they purchase for "research" - How they'd love to be able to use what they've learned with a cute human, but no person in their right mind would want an awkward outcast like them...
Right?
When Darling finally released they're being followed - they come to the conclusion that it has to be some strange human mating ritual. Yan likely discovers the various blogs Darling has made detailing their journey they probably think nobody will read or believe. Regardless of whether darling truly is from other world - it's clear to see how depraved they are. Yan sees that for themselves when they leave a pair of their underwear in darling's bed and instead of questioning where they came from Darling skips an entire day of work just to drool all over them. Darling is too busy fondling Yan's chest to notice anything wrong - like how their boss hasn't called to check up on them in a while.
Oh....That's right - they don't have a phone anymore. Their lover said they didn't need it anymore.... Plus, their boss was found dead in a lake a few weeks ago.
Huh.....How could they forget something like that?
"Would you like me to take my shirt off while you touch me, love?"
"Yes, please!"
Darling feels the need to ask before every kiss. It's cute - until they're drilling their tongue(s) down Yan's throat everytime since they claim Darling can do whatever they desire to them. It's still impossible for them to believe a cute human would want them so badly. Captivity is a small prize to pay to finally act out the fantasies they've had since they've learned of earth and its people.
#yandere#yandere imagines#yandere headcanons#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere scenarios#yandere insert#yandere blurb#yandere oc#tw yandere#alien reader#yandere drabble
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ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕒 𝕃𝕒𝕫𝕪 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣
summary: you're a single mother who verymuch wants a partner once more, and by a stroke of luck, your daughter leads you to a very special someone...
contents: fem!reader x angell, no mania au, reader had a husband before meeting angell, age gap (reader is in her early thirties, angell in her early twenties), reader is very obviously thirsty, some fluff, finge.ring, cunn.ilingus, transfem!angell
word count: 4.1k
author's note: this got so out of hand. i wanted just 1k, maybe 2k. this is my first fic in this blog and it's just showing how whipped i am for angell. good god. i am currently in my era where i wanna be a milf, so you get that this time, but maybe one day, the reader will fuck milf!garofano. maybe. also this is my first smut ever ever sooo feedback? feedback tonite queen?
things hadn't been going so well after your divorce, to say the least.
you have full custody of your daughter, yes, something you're eternally grateful for. a steady job, a nice place to call home, your beloved daughter, for all intents and purposes your life is as perfect as it gets!
but after 5 long years of marriage with an uncaring husband, one who you weren't sure you were attracted to to begin with, you find yourself feeling remarkably lonely. the touch of another, something that's been so scarce for so long, and simply knowing someone treasures you… your heart desperately longs for that. specifically, you find yourself craving a woman before a man, but as no one comes along, it's a somewhat fruitless thought.
alas, while you're a single mother, you enjoy the parenting side quite dearly.
after an uneventful shift at work and a stop by your daughter's school, you're heading back home with her holding your hand, the usual commute for the two of you for the past year or so once the divorce was finalized, though today you've taken a bit of a detour due to some construction work in your usual route. from the corner of your eye, you spot an ice cream vendor and smile to yourself; your daughter's been behaving rather well, it'd be nice to give her a treat today as a reward. “wait for me right here, alright?” you tell the little girl with a smile, then walk over to buy a popsicle for her.
barely a minute passes between leaving and coming back to your daughter, yet when you turn to face her, she's already walked away from where you left her. alarms blare in your head in less than a second, though as quickly as terror arrives, it leaves the second you spot her a few ways away, from where she calls out for you.
“mama, look! the nice lady has a kitty!”
still on edge, you approach your daughter and the woman who's crouching beside her while holding a cat. “hon, i’ve told you to not approach strangers-” you begin with a frown, though your eyes focus properly on the woman besides your daughter. her black hair with its white highlights, the leather jacket and her tank top, though it's not long enough to cover just a bit of navel that peeks out above her jeans, you can see her toned abs even as she crouches… quickly, you force your eyes to meet her golden ones, lest this stranger realize you're absolutely ogling her in broad daylight.
thankfully she doesn't notice, and if she does, she doesn't say it. instead, this stranger stands up to face you properly, making you realize just how much taller she is than you…
your daughter calling out to you curiously is what truly snaps you out of your stupor, and you nervously chuckle to yourself while handing her the popsicle you bought for her.
“s-sorry, i hope my daughter didn't inconvenience you,” you say to the unnaturally handsome woman.
she shakes her head lightly, then glances down at the cat by her feet. “don't worry, it's no trouble.”
while your daughter is delighted to be eating her ice cream, she still looks at the taller woman with a glint in her eye. “mama, can i keep playing with the lady and her kitty? pretty please?” your child begs between licks of her ice cream, and it's hard to say no to that sweet face and those puppy dog eyes. (part of you is glad she took after your side of the family entirely in the looks department)
“you can play with the kitty hon, but make sure to not bother the lady,” you warn with just a hint of firmness in your voice. with a happy cheer, your daughter goes on to pet the black cat, who doesn't seem to mind if his loud purring is any indication. the stranger before you smiles at the sight, a tiny grin at best, and you feel something in your heart throb at the sight.
…you realize you're acting like a lovesick schoolgirl as a grown woman, but you push the thought as far away as possible.
“seems he likes your kid. he's not this nice to most people,” you hear her say, which brings your attention back to the situation at hand. your gaze follows hers and you see your daughter, her popsicle partially melting in one hand while the other continues to pet the cat like he's the world's greatest treasure, and your quickly-developing crush is pushed briefly to the side, instead letting your heart focus on the adorable sight.
smiling, you nod your head. “she likes cats, though we don't have one right now.”
“hm. this one's clingy when he wants to be. usually he waits around this spot for me to come home from work.”
“oh, is that so?” mentally, you think it might be nice to take this route more often.
and that's how you first meet angell.
the more you get to know her, the more of a mess you realize she is.
the two of you chat for a few minutes at the end of each work day while your daughter plays with angell’s cat, a new addition to your peaceful routine. while you talk about your hobbies and your work sometimes, angell tells you she's a delivery worker for a well known restaurant here… but when you learn about her dietary habits, you don't know whether to pity her or be flabbergasted. it's a wonder she's a healthy and fit woman if she's always eating foods that may very well be expired by at least a month. it's quite the juxtaposition between her workplace and her actual food, which baffles you even more when you realize she's paid really well for a delivery worker.
it gets to the point where you start making lunches for all three of you, though you give angell hers at the end of each day. the first time you gave her that container with something as simple as pasta with some fried chicken on the side, yet the way she looks at you when she sees it… “for me?” she whispers with wide eyes, and you forever commit to memory the way her expression turns tender and fond and her cheeks flush. it's a herculean effort to not kiss her.
something else that's made you weak in the knees for this woman is that, much to your surprise, she starts playing with your daughter by letting her hang from her biceps and even spinning around with the child holding onto her, to your daughter's delight. it's become something that your daughter adores, and when she's laughing brightly and angell thinks you're not looking, you see the way the taller woman smiles softly at your child, only to become pink at the cheeks when she realizes you're watching her. angell is usually a rather stoic woman, so the rare sight of her being so bashful is one you realize you want to see more often.
at one point, you decide to invite her for dinner, something your daughter instantly cheers for. angell looks shocked at first, but she smiles and agrees with ease.
the three of you then walk back to your home, all while your daughter chants happily. “miss angell’s stayin’ with us! miss angell's stayin' with us!”
it's… nice. you didn't expect angell to be good with children when you first met, but this almost feels perfect.
when you arrive to your home, your daughter is quick to head back to her room to change from her school uniform, so with a fond sigh, you set your coat in the nearby rack and turn to angell with a little smile. “would you like to help me cook dinner?”
“i… i would like that,” angell replies in a low voice. this is the first time the two of you are alone together. hearing her voice like this, so smooth and deep… part of you wonders if you'll live past tonight.
angell takes off her leather jacket and puts it beside your coat, which prompts you to stare at the ground intensely in order to avoid gluing your eyes to the newly uncovered skin of her arms and shoulders, and the way her muscles move… focus, focus!
the two of you settle on making red bean soup at your suggestion, and it's a relatively easy affair with two pairs of hands working, even if angell's movements are clumsy and you gently have to guide her.
your daughter comes out of her room a few minutes later, and she's all smiles as she watches you and angell cook, though she quickly distracts herself by watching cartoons in the living room.
once more, you focus on the meal you're trying to prepare and the quiet woman you're trying not to kiss silly.
when you two are done preparing the soup, you move to grab three bowls so you all can eat while angell stirs it a bit to check its consistency. “it smells nice,” she murmurs.
“that's good to know,” you reply with a little smile, so focused on the bowls you're holding that, when you turn around, your front accidentally bumps into angell’s, and you remain close to her due to the kitchen's somewhat reduced space.
from this distance, you can see angell's golden eyes widen a fraction and her cheeks flush slightly, though your focus is more on the way her toned abs and her chest are flush against your own body, which makes your own cheeks redder than a tomato. your noses are almost brushing, and your eyes wander down to her soft lips.
“you're warm,” you hear angell muse quietly, and with a little squeak, you step back and turn away before even allowing yourself to imagine what it would be like to kiss her. faintly, you can almost hear her chuckling.
dinner is served a moment later, and soon, angell, your daughter and you sit together for a nice dinner, though the little glances you and angell exchange feel too charged to focus on anything but the taller woman.
midway through your dinner though, the sound of rumbling thunder crashes above your house, prompting your daughter to shriek fearfully and you to jump as well, while angell simply frowns. the sky had been clear during the trek to your home, but to think a storm was coming? just a few seconds later there's the sound of rain as well, slowly growing from a light drizzle into a heavy downpour. it's some hell of a background noise, something that puts your daughter on edge and makes you frown at her reaction.
angell, as always, surprises you though. “hey, it's okay. your mom and i will keep you safe from thunder,” she says with a totally straight face.
“r-really?” your daughter asks, clearly doubtful.
“yeah, really.” angell smiles at the girl and adds, “i'm strong enough to keep the two of you safe. that thunder won't come close to you, ever.”
your daughter's eyes widen at angell's confidence, and with that reassurance, she resumes eating her dinner happily. the sight, coupled with the gentle way angell reassured her, makes your heart feel light; you love seeing the two of them bond like this.
dinner happens uneventfully after that, though the rain remains as heavy as before, even when it's your daughter's bedtime. you reluctantly tell angell to wait for you in the living room while you tuck the little girl in for the night, worried about what the two of you should do now.
you refuse to let angell walk back home under the rain though.
“the storm doesn't seem to be letting up,” angell comments when you come back, her expression annoyed at the sight of the rain hitting the windows of your home.
it's then that an idea pops up in your mind, and before you can stop yourself, you open your mouth and say, “you could sleep here for the night.” hastily, you add, “i-if that's fine with you, of course.”
angells seems caught off guard at first, though her expression shifts into the smallest smile as if she were… shy? “i’d like that. better than walking under the rain.”
smiling to yourself in both relief and delight, you take angell's hand and guide her to your bedroom, realizing that her cheeks turn a slight pink when she notices where you're headed. the sight is beyond adorable and makes your smile wider.
in the bedroom, you rummage through your clothes trying to find something that angell can use as sleep wear, eventually finding an oversized sweater and a pair of loose shorts, though the sweater seems to fit angell's form just fine once she comes out of the bathroom wearing your clothes. she smiles when she notices you staring, though you quickly tear your gaze away from her form.
you take your own combination of a long-sleeved shirt and shorts before heading to the bathroom to change as well, then come back out to find angell sitting on your bed, as if waiting for you like an obedient pup.
“should i sleep in the living room sofa?” she asks before standing up to face you.
“oh, no no, we can just share my bed!” you say cheerfully without thinking. a mere millisecond later you realize what you just said, and your cheeks go red at your own suggestion.
angell, bless her, simply smiles. “alright. it is kinda cold tonight,” she remarks.
while you still feel bashful about your faux pas, this response is one that makes your heart skip a beat.
when the two of you get under the covers together, there's a bit of a distance that separates you from angell, though she sighs softly before inching closer and wrapping her arms around you like it's nothing, somehow. your eyes go wide and you feel your cheeks grow warm, and from this distance her golden eyes draw you in, just as they did when you first met.
“is this alright?” she asks almost nonchalantly, but you've grown used to her, you think. the underlying nervousness and shyness in her tone are not some product of misplaced illusion.
“it’s… more than alright.”
“…good.”
she holds you close, the rain still falling as little more than background noise, and the two of you simply… lay together. you allow your eyes to scan her face, even though you're both supposedly going to sleep now, and manage to catch her eyes traveling down to your lips, then flickering back up as if she didn't want to get caught.
so it's mutual, you think as a little smile rises to your face. “how about we stop this little game, why don't we.”
it's adorable how her lips form a little pout, clearly showing her puzzlement at those words, though all confusion flees when she feels your lips against hers, and instead you're rewarded with a quiet, soft grunt before her lips move in tandem with yours. your hands go down to hold her waist as she kisses you, and in return angell's hands rise to tangle her fingers through your hair.
she's inexperienced, you can tell by the way her teeth clash against yours sometimes, but that doesn't change how heavenly angell feels, how gentle she is despite clearly wanting to do even more.
at this point though? you're both equally desperate.
you pull away, just a few inches, and she's already whispering against your lips, “can we do more?”
you want to feel scandalized, almost. she's barely started kissing you and she already wants to do more, and yet… “i… so long as we're quiet,” you reply in a hushed whisper, but that's all it takes for angell to kiss you once more, though there's a hunger to her motions that goes entirely unrestrained now.
“you make my heart all… crazy,” angell murmurs against your lips, then pulls away to start leaving open mouthed kisses across your jaw, then neck, and soon she's silently asking for permission to lift your shirt by playing with the hem of it. you nod almost too eagerly.
angell takes in the sight of your bare front as she lifts your shirt up, and while you feel self-conscious for a second as you think of your stretch marks and extra weight, she's quick to reassure your insecurities in the way her lips continue their sloppy journey down the expanse of your skin, stopping at the valley of your breasts to nip and kiss at each tit.
“you're beautiful.”
“so… stunning.”
“you taste so good.”
if her mouth weren't working wonders across your body, you'd pull angell up to kiss her silly once more.
your hand tangles itself in her hair as she keeps going, and you bite your lip to avoid gasping loudly, for her mouth has wrapped itself around your nipple and god, she's driving you crazy.
the very tip of her tongue circles your areola, the sensation too much and yet not enough at the same time, before your grip on her hair tightens the second angell starts flicking the bud of your nipple properly, then she presses her tongue flat against the sensitive skin. she's not inexperienced, you realize, simply needy, hungry, eager.
angell lets go of your nipple with a quiet pop, and it's then that you realize she's pulled your shorts and underwear down while you weren't paying attention. “a-angell?” you call, though you want this as much as she does.
she hums curiously in response, and her lips kiss down your navel, until she's right next to the place where you need her most, where she plants a soft kiss to your inner thigh and makes direct eye contact.
“n-nevermind. carry on.”
she chuckles, the little devil. “thanks, babe.”
oh, you're going to lose your mind.
angell then dives right in, delivering almost teasing licks to your lower lips like she suddenly wants to take her time with you, uncomfortably akin to a cat playing with its prey. while she teases you with barely any pressure, you throw your head back, because this is still the first time someone has touched you like this in a long time.
and yet, it's everything you need. she's everything you need.
it takes her a few minutes, but suddenly, angell's already pushing two fingers inside your aching cunt, and this time you actually have to cover your mouth to avoid letting out a loud cry. angell takes it as a sign to be even more bold, and soon she's wrapping her lips around your clit and sucking while her fingers move in and out, then press down and curl right up against that gummy spot that has your toes curling in an instant. you realize she's started to grind her hips against the bed, but by god, you cannot focus on anything that isn't her mouth and fingers.
“god, angell, please-” you whimper quietly, only to muffle another moan when she increases the pace of her fingers, pumping in and out with a squelching noise. you can feel angell smiling as she lets go of your clit, as if she were savoring each reaction she gets out of you.
“don't worry, babe. i’ve got you,” she rasps against your drenched folds, the vibrations absolutely adding to the stimulation that's already making you bite your hand just so you can remain quiet. between that and the way her fingers fill your pussy, she's making you see stars.
your back arches while angell eats you out, but the second you let out another quiet gasp, she pulls away her mouth and fingers as if she could feel you were close to cumming.
angell chuckles at the way you whine, feeling empty now that her fingers don't fill you up anymore. “sorry, i just can't hold back anymore. really feels like i’m going crazy,” she whispers as she rises up from between your thighs.
you curiously raise an eyebrow, but before you can ask about what she means, angell pulls the shorts you lent her down. her dick is hard, tip red and coated in precum, clearly showing just how riled up eating you out has left her.
your eyes widen at her size, though you quickly realize angell almost looks nervous now, and that's enough for your expression to soften instantly.
“c'mere, honey,” you prompt gently, and the second angell leans down with her torso hovering over yours, you pull the sweater she's wearing off of her, leaving her bare for you to see in all her glory.
while she seems genuinely embarrassed at first, all it takes for her to relax is you gently cupping her cheek. just like that, those golden eyes you love so much gaze at you with lust and affection once more.
her chest, soft and pliant, presses against yours while the tip of her cock brushes against your cunt in a way that leaves you both eager for more.
“i'm going in now. last chance to back out,” she whispers against your ear.
“sweetheart, please just hurry,” you beg a moment later. angell holds back a soft laugh at just how eager you sound, and she decides she's done teasing you for tonight, just because she finds you cute.
you let out a soft sigh before gasping against her neck. angell grunts at the same time, slowly and gently pushing her cock inside you and filling you up in a way that feels wonderful. she shivers above you, breathing ragged and warm against your skin, and you wrap your arms around her back.
she lets you adjust, because this woman is as sweet as she's quiet, whispering about how good it feels, how you take her so well, how warm and tight you are around her cock.
soon the feeling isn't enough, and you whisper with utter need, “please… take me, angell.”
“i'd love nothing m-more,” she replies in a breathless murmur.
she pulls her hips away until the tip of her weeping length is the only thing that remains inside, then slams herself right in like it's natural for her, dragging a startled gasp from you due to how intense it is, how intense the pleasure is. you're quick to bury your face into your pillow, biting it to avoid letting out too loud a noise while angell does her best to keep her groans and whimpers quiet.
“god, you feel s-so tight,” she says while thrusting her hips into yours again, her pace slow yet hard. it's like she wants to focus on your pleasure, yet her own hunger drives her into increasing the pace of her hips.
soon she's relentless and almost growling against the skin of your neck, her hands gripping your hips almost possessively while she thrusts her cock in and out of you. all you can think about is her, her hands on your body, her lips on your neck, angell, angell, angell.
at one point, angell grips the back of your knees and pushes them back against your chest, all while thrusting relentlessly against your body, and the pleasure is already coiling in ways you hadn't even felt before in your life.
“i'm close, ‘m close,” you gasp while trying to stay silent, yet angell makes it so damn hard as she grunts against you.
“go ahead. let go, please, cum ‘round my, please,” she begs, and it's obvious that this song and dance of yours was going to end like this from the start.
with a strangled gasp, your mouth falls open and you cum around angell like she so eagerly pleaded for, leaving a white, frothy ring around the base of her length in just a few thrusts. the sight makes angell let out a sound between a grunt and a whine, and she bites down onto your shoulder before pulling out and stroking herself to completion, cumming all over your tummy while quietly gasping against your skin. the bite only adds to your pleasure, even with the slight pain that follows.
once she's done milking her own cock, angell flops down on top of you and lets go of your shoulder, her breath coming out in tired pants that match your own uneven breathing.
you let her lay there gladly, going as far as to stroke her hair before pressing a kiss to her forehead. angell hums at the sensation, then pays you right back with a kiss right on the center of her bite mark.
“be my girlfriend?” she asks, sounding satisfied yet drowsy.
with a tired little giggle, you continue to run your fingers against her scalp. nuzzled against you like this, she once again reminds you of a cat.
“you did it a bit out of order, love.”
#ptn women x reader#ptn x reader#path to nowhere smut#ptn smut#ptn angell x reader#ptn angell smut#path to nowhere x reader#path to nowhere angell x reader
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Three Four, That’s the Magic Number - Hangman
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin / Wife!Reader
Word Count: 3.7k
This work, all my works, and my entire blog is 18+ Only!
Warnings: (Unplanned) Pregnancy; (Failed) Vasectomies; Humor; Suggestive Language; Marital Disagreements; Threats of Kicks to the Balls; Female Reader with No Description, No Y/N, Second Person POV, Use of "You"
Summary: You thought that three kids was it. But apparently your husband, Hangman, didn't have as successful of a vasectomy as you initially thought.
Master List
Holding your head in your hand, you tried to quell your sudden nausea as your husband continued to drive you and your family across town to the Bradshaw family home for a Dagger pool day. Your head was pounding and you swore that your body was naturally swaying on its own and your kids fighting in the back seat was not helping your mood.
“Hey!” Jake barked when your son kicked the back of your seat, causing all three of your kids to jump. “Sit down and apologize to your mama right now, Charlie.”
“Sorry, Mama,” Charlie mumbled out quietly.
“Thank you, baby,” you replied softly, still feeling out of it.
“If you three don’t stop fighting, we’re not going to the pool,” Jake warned your three kids. Coming to a stop at a red light, he turned around to shoot them the classic ‘do not test me today’ look that your kids knew to not test. “So, if you want to go to the pool and play with your friends, you’re going to stop fighting. Got it?”
“Yes, Daddy,” the three of them chorused together.
Turning to shoot you a concerned look, since you hadn’t looked like yourself for what felt like days now, Jake started driving again when the light turned green. Pulling into the Bradshaw driveway, you slowly got out of your seat and moved to pull your kids out of the back. Jake grabbed the food and took Liam and set him on his hip so that you could walk in without any extra weight.
The Bradshaw house was packed with the Daggers and their families. The years since the uranium facility mission had only made the Dagger relationships stronger and even though they didn’t all live near each other anymore, they made efforts to get together when they could. Especially with a lot of their kids being around the same age.
Your three kids quickly joined in the activities with the other Dagger babies, letting you get a brief moment of peace. You and Jake stepped out into the backyard with Jake resting a concerned hand on your lower back, as if he was worried that you’d collapse on him.
“Are you sure that you’re fine?” Jake asked worriedly.
“I’m fine,” you assured him, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “I probably just need to eat and drink some more water. That’s all.”
“Go sit down. I’ll grab you something.”
Jake reluctantly parted from your side and headed inside again while you made your way over to where Phoenix and Payback’s wife Dana were sitting by the pool. The direct sun caused your head to pound once again.
“You look horrible,” Phoenix commented, causing you to sigh and drop onto a chair.
“I feel horrible,” you muttered, shifting the umbrella over to block the sun.
“Are you sick?” Dana asked, sitting up.
“No. I don’t have a fever or anything like that. It’s probably just some stomach thing or just me being exhausted.”
“You’re nauseous?”
“Only sometimes,” you replied with a shrug, lying flat on your back.
“Have you been sleeping well?”
“No,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes and blinking slowly. “Liam’s still sleeping in our bed most nights and he usually kicks one of us awake. Mostly Jake, actually.”
“Eh, Hangman probably deserved it,” Phoenix muttered, shrugging her shoulders.
“Love you too, Phoenix,” Jake muttered, arriving on the scene.
He offered you a plate of food and a cup of water. You took the offering from your husband and shot him a small smile. In return, Jake leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips.
“Thanks, baby,” you told him, smiling softly.
“You’ll let me know if you need to go home, right?” Jake asked you, shooting that look that he always did whenever you over-exerted yourself.
“Yes, Commander Seresin,” you replied sarcastically, shooting him an exasperated expression.
“We don’t need to be here for your foreplay,” Phoenix stated from behind Jake, causing Dana to burst out into snickers.
“Daddy!” Annie called, causing Jake to immediately spin around to see her standing on the steps of the pool with Bob right beside her. “Come play in the pool!”
“I’m coming, Princess!”
Jake peeled off his shirt and handed it over to you. Shooting you one last concerned look, Jake headed over to join Annie in the pool. You folded his shirt up and set it beside you before reaching for your water.
“How long have you been feeling ill?” Dana asked as you sipped at your water. “Jake seems pretty concerned.”
“About a week,” you replied quietly, reaching for the food that he brought you.
“You made an appointment?”
“Not yet. But I’m worried that he’ll make one for me if I drag my feet anymore,” you stated honestly, popping a grape into your mouth.
“Are you telling me that we’re in for another classic Hangman freak out?” Phoenix sighed, taking a long sip of her beer. “I haven’t had enough drinks to deal with that yet.”
“I think that Annie’s keeping him distracted for now,” you responded, smiling as Jake tossed Annie up in the air and caught her. Annie squealed as Jake pressed a kiss to her cheek and tossed her in the air again. “She’s got him wrapped around her finger at all times.”
You moved to eat some crackers and cheese, keeping everything lighter and stomach friendly. But when your caught a whiff of potato salad that all seemed to be for nothing. Plugging your nose, you quickly set down your food and sipped at your water to try and keep your stomach from rolling dangerously.
“Do you need Jake?” Dana asked, sitting up.
“You look like you’re going to throw up,” Phoenix added, sharing a look with Dana.
“I’m fine. And stop looking at me like that or Jake is going to notice.”
“I’d make that appointment soon,” Phoenix told you honestly. “Not much gets by him. But don’t tell him I said that.”
“No, you’re right,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair. Staring up at the umbrella over your head, you sunk a bit more into your seat. “I’ll make the appointment.”
~~~~~
“Any allergies?” the nurse asked you.
“No, none,” you replied, sitting up on the exam table of your doctor’s office.
“Any changes to your medication?”
“Nope.”
“When was your last period?”
“I don’t know, probably three weeks ago or something like that,” you replied, not entirely sure. You hardly kept track of it anymore at this stage in your life.
“And any chance that you could be pregnant?” she asked, causing you to shake your head.
“My husband had a vasectomy.”
“But are you still sexually active?”
“Yes.”
“In the last few months?”
“Yes.”
“Then, we’ll need you to take a urine test,” the nurse assistant replied, pulling out a plastic cup from the cupboard. “It’s standard procedure.”
Reluctantly, you took the cup and headed down the hall to the bathroom. After what felt like twenty years, your doctor finally entered your exam room.
“How are we doing today, Mrs. Seresin?”
“I’ve been better,” you replied, swinging your legs back and forth.
“Yes, I understand that.”
Your doctor asked you a series of questions, did a quick physical exam, before returning to the computer in the corner of the room. Typing in your answers and some notes to herself, your doctor turned back to you.
“Well, I think with all of your symptoms and your test results, there’s one clear cause of your illness—you’re pregnant.”
“That’s funny,” you laughed off, but your doctor remained serious.
“Mrs. Seresin, you’re pregnant. Your urine test came back with clear results. Based on your hormone levels, I’d put you somewhere around six to eight weeks.”
“But my husband got a vasectomy,” you insisted, as if that changed anything. “There’s no way that I’m pregnant.”
“Do you use protection with him?”
“No,” you replied, as if it were obvious.
“Might I suggest making an appointment with your obstetrician?” your doctor spoke softly, causing you to sink into your seat.
~~~~~
Making dinner that night, you swore that you weren’t seeing or thinking straight. Your doctor’s words kept echoing around head and stole any smidge of sanity that you maintained. Your kids were running around causing a ruckus as they always were and Jake still wasn’t home, which only added to your inner turmoil.
You hadn’t told Jake about what the doctor told you. It didn’t feel right breaking that kind of news over the phone or text. And frankly, you were torn between stressing about Jake’s reaction to your news and wanting to have the upper hand so that you could jump out strangle him the second that he got home.
“Daddy’s home!” Charlie called, setting off a chain reaction.
You looked up to see the kids run over to the door to greet Jake. Trying to not get too caught up in how excited the kids were to see their dad, you focused on getting the table set up for dinner. The door swung open and Jake stepped inside, immediately dropping his bag and holding out his arms.
“You’re all here for me?” he teased, pulling your three kids in for a hug and kiss. “Well, aren’t I just the luckiest guy?”
Sniffling, you set down the plates full of food for the kids before turning back for the kitchen to get started on the dishes. Jake usually did them after dinner, but you just needed to do something to steady yourself. Jake released your kids, telling them to go and wash their hands, before turning to you.
“Hey, Mama,” he greeted you, playfully tapping your ass. Wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you away from the dishes, he pressed a kiss to your shoulder and then your neck. “How was your day?”
“Oh, I just found out some news,” you replied, seemingly calm.
“What kind of news?” Jake asked curiously.
“The kind that will have you sleeping on the couch tonight,” you stated, a bit more aggravation seeping into your tone.
“What? What’s wrong?” Jake questioned, confused and looking a bit like a kicked puppy with your harsh tone. But that look wasn’t going to do him any favors today.
“You didn’t keep up your end of the deal.”
“Honey, what deal?”
“The one where you promised to not knock me up with another one of your heavy, always late, big-headed children!”
“Wait, you—you’re pregnant?” Jake breathed out, inspecting you closer. “Really?”
“I could easily knee you in the balls right now,” you warned Jake, eyes narrowing. “Maybe I need to since your ‘vasectomy’ clearly didn’t work!”
“What’s with the air quotes?” Jake asked, grabbing your hands. “Honey, you were there.”
“Not in the operating room.”
“Were you supposed to be?”
“Jacob,” you warned him, shooting him a look to shut up.
“Mommy, Liam was trying to eat the soap again,” Charlie complained, causing you to look away from Jake.
“For the love of—Liam, what did I tell you about eating soap?”
“I got this,” Jake told you, turning to walk over to the bathroom. “Just . . . sit down and breathe.”
Jake walked off to grab Liam while you scrubbed away at the dishes again. Charlie sat down at the table, closely followed by Annie and then Jake carried out Liam and sat him in his chair. Turning to see you still erratically scrubbing at the same pot, Jake sighed and approached you. He called your name, but you didn’t look up.
“Honey,” Jake tried again, “let’s just eat and I’m sure that you’re exhausted and probably just want to shower and go to bed.”
“I made an appointment with my obstetrician and with your urologist,” you replied, changing the subject on your husband.
“My urologist?”
“About your ‘vasectomy’,” you stated, adding passive aggressive air quotes again around vasectomy. “It’s in a month.”
“When? I have a bunch of—”
“—I already called your secretary and picked a time that fits into your schedule.” Turning to shoot your husband a look, you wiped off your hands on a towel. “You’re going.”
You stormed past him, leaving no room for argument. Jake winced and watched you walk over to the dinner table with your three kids. And although you looked just about ready to rip his head off and could very possibly read his thoughts, Jake couldn’t help but think about how much better the dining table set would look with six chairs instead of five.
But he wasn’t going to talk about that right now. He wanted to wake up tomorrow morning.
~~~~~
Jake sat on the exam table while you paced around the room with your arms folded across your chest and your purse in the optimal position to swing it and whack your husband. You were already starting to show and your appointment with your obstetrician was the week before. You and the baby were perfectly healthy despite the fact that you were in ‘advanced maternal age.’
Your husband slept on the couch after that appointment too just because you were feeling spiteful about that.
Jake was still dressed in his uniform, on a short break from work to attend this appointment. He met you at the doctor’s office while Dana Fitch invited your kids over for the afternoon. And although he tried to brighten your mood by promising to grab dinner on his way home and maybe something extra, you face was permanently screwed into a frown since you arrived at the office.
A knock on the door caused you to stop pacing and turn as the urologist slowly stepped into the room with a kind smile.
“Mr. and Mrs. Seresin. How are we?”
“Pregnant,” you stated bluntly.
“Yes, I heard. Congratulations,” the urologist replied somewhat awkwardly before taking his seat. “Though I’m assuming you’re wondering how that’s possible.”
“You read my mind,” you responded calmly and not at all sarcastic.
“Well, I should inform you that you’re not the first couple to have a pregnancy after a vasectomy. While it’s not common, it can still happen.”
“And in this case?”
“I’m not entirely sure without any additional tests,” the urologist replied honestly. “And in this case, I think that starting with a sample is the best course of action. Once we have those results, we can discuss whether or not another vasectomy is necessary.”
“Another one?” Jake asked quietly.
But he instantly tried to bite back his words when he caught the way that your head snapped around to shoot him a glare.
“Oh, that must be so inconvenient and painful for you to have to deal with,” you drawled sarcastically, causing Jake to wince.
“Sorry.”
You left the room to let Jake talk with the urologist privately and to check in on the kids. Glancing at the door to make sure that you were in fact gone, the urologist turned to Jake.
“I’m not trying to overstep and cause any trouble but we often ask men in this position if there is any possibility of them wanting a paternity test,” the urologist offered, causing Jake to chuckle.
“Not necessary,” Jake replied, laughing off the absurdity of the urologist’s suggestion. “Just some strong swimmers. That’s all.”
~~~~~
Jake headed out to the parking lot to see you sitting on a bench in the shade of the building, furiously typing away at your phone. Approaching carefully, like he was approaching a wild animal, he slowly sat down beside you.
“They’ll call me back with the results in a few days,” Jake stated, causing you to nod and put away your phone. “Are you okay?”
“I still want to kick you in the balls,” you stated, shooting your husband a look.
“Have I mentioned that I greatly appreciate your restraint?” Jake offered, causing you to scoff. “Honey, I can’t read your mind. Please just tell me what’s bothering you.”
“I just . . . I can’t believe we’re those people,” you sighed, holding a hand to your head.
“What do you mean by those people?”
“You know, those people. Those couples who were dumb enough after having three kids to not know what birth control is. Those couples that can’t keep their hands off of each other and just fuck around like a bunch of animals and there’s evidence for all of it! I mean, who sets out planning to have four kids?”
“Baby, who gives a shit about what other people think about us?” Jake replied seriously, grabbing your hand. “It’s none of their business about how many kids we do or don’t have. And I’m not going to apologize to anyone for maintaining a healthy sex life with my wife after three kids. Are you?”
“No,” you huffed, folding your arms across your chest. “Of course not.” Pausing for a moment, you turned back to Jake. “I kind of rubbed it in stupid Gina Denison’s face that we’re still banging a few days ago.”
Gina Denison was one of the moms of Charlie’s friend group. Her husband was a tool and looked like he hated his life every time he showed up. And Gina was always so flirty with Jake, grabbing his arm and complimenting him on everything, that you contemplated kicking your son’s soccer ball straight into her face.
“She did look pretty glum actually,” Jake mused, rubbing your knee.
“Good.”
“Then what’s there to worry about?” Jake asked, causing you to sigh.
“There’s the whole bedroom situation first of all. Unless we want to turn the guest room into the nursery, the kids are going to have to share.”
“We’ll just convert the playroom upstairs. Easy fix. A new coat of paint and moving some things around and we’re fine.”
“And we can only fit three car seats into the back of your truck.”
“Then we’ll take the other car for family outings,” Jake pointed out softly, rubbing your knee again.
“And Liam’s still coming into our bed most nights. What happens when I’m eight months pregnant and there’s no room?”
“I’ll have a talk with him about it,” Jake offered, causing you to raise an eyebrow.
“You’ve talked to him about it a hundred times already. What’s changed?”
“I have my ways.”
And by ‘his ways,’ Jake was quietly referring to the fact that when you were heavily pregnant, you snored. Loudly. And now Jake had never told you that when you were heavily pregnant you snored because he wasn’t an idiot. It was like complaining about how uncomfortable the chairs were in the delivery room. Only a fucking selfish pathetic loser complained about that stuff to his pregnant wife.
And he already had a slip up with the whole second vasectomy thing in there and he was trying to quickly recover from that.
Turning to you and gently cupping your cheek so that you turned to him, Jake leaned in and rested her forehead against your own.
“Honey, you know that I’m here, right? You don’t have to go through this alone and you don’t have to hold all of the stress about it. We’re fine. We have the money. We have the space. We have the extra hands if we need babysitters. And for anything else, just tell me about it. I’m here for you and our four babies. Anything you want, you let me know, okay?”
“Okay,” you agreed softly, pressing a kiss to his lips. Smiling up at your husband through your eyelashes, you suddenly grew serious. “I want you to get another vasectomy.”
“Yeah, I thought you were going to say that,” Jake sighed, wincing a bit again.
~~~~~
Jake was turning forty this year. The big 4-0. And it only seemed fitting to him that he got to have his four kids by his side for this birthday. But since it happened to fall on a random Tuesday that Jake had to work, you and the kids just put together a small party for him. You cooked him his favorite dinner and the kids gave him the card that they made for him. And then it was time for the cake.
“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday Daddy, Happy Birthday to you!” you and three of your kids sang along.
But little baby Hazel, who was about a year and a half now, was more focused on trying to touch the cake with her finger than singing. Jake smiled and grabbed her hand, shaking it to distract her long enough for you to take a photo.
“Alright, time to blow out the candles!” you called, holding up your phone to take the photo.
“On three,” Jake instructed your kids. “Ready? One . . . two . . . three.”
Your four kids, who were all seated or standing next to Jake, blew out the candles with him. You snapped a few quick photos before putting your phone away. Jake started clapping, causing Hazel to giggle and clap along too. You quickly grabbed the cake and cut it up. Passing around the slices of cake, you smiled and pressed a loving kiss to your husband’s lips.
“Happy Birthday, Jake.”
“Thank you, baby,” he returned, shooting you a wink.
Your kids talked excitedly with Jake about the upcoming weekend. Jake’s parents were flying in for his birthday and you were going to take a short vacation as a family. Jake listened and talked intently with your children before it was time to start the bedtime routines. You and Jake worked together to get Hazel and then Liam and then Annie and Charlie all ready for bed.
And once the kids were all asleep and tucked away for the night, you grabbed Jake by the hand and pulled him into your shared bedroom. In about three seconds flat, you had Jake on his back and straddled him.
“Happy Birthday,” you grinned, pressing a set of needy kisses to his lips.
“Are you my present?” Jake asked coyly, kneading your hips with his hands.
“Sure am, Cowboy,” you replied, pulling off your shirt and tossing it onto the floor. But before you kissed him again, you quickly cursed and got up to lock the door to your bedroom. Smiling apologetically at Jake, you quickly hopped up onto the bed again. “Don’t want to risk the kids walking in on us.”
“It’s my birthday. Tonight, you’re mine. All mine,” Jake agreed, pulling you in for another kiss.
And with assurance that his second vasectomy was successful, you happily started on your birthday gift for him.
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Toastystats: Halloween fanworks!
So the thing is, I get to Blaze one post per month by virtue of having Tumblr Premium. And (while I have enjoyed Blazing pictures of my cats in the past) I thought perhaps this month people might enjoy some Halloween fandom stats + fic lists? So I threw something together. First, the stats:
Less that 1% of AO3 fanworks use the "Halloween" tag (or a subtag like "Happy Halloween" -- only 0.32%, in fact. But I found some big fandoms (10K+ works) that use a substantially higher-than-average rate of Halloweenery. (I couldn't look through every fandom on AO3, but I did look through all the fandoms with 10K+ fanworks as of January 2024. Note that some fandoms may write about Halloween a bunch without tagging it, and those aren't be captured here.)
Fall Out Boy leads the pack among these big fandoms, with nearly 1% of its fanworks using the "Halloween" tag or a subtag (0.93%). (I'd be curious to hear theories about why!) Some of the other fandoms shown above have a natural element of spookiness or horror (e.g., IT, Stranger Things), but many do not. The longer list is here. (These stats are based on pretty small numbers, btw, so please don't take these rankings too seriously. This is just a bit of fun.)
I also thought people might want to read some Halloween-themed fics from each of the above top 25 fandoms, so I highlighted works from each fandom that were complete and highly kudosed. If you're curious, the list includes this sort of info:
And I thought people might also appreciate Halloween-themed fics for different relationship categories (F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other, xReader). Here's a screenshot of some of the fics in the relationship category list, if you're curious:
More information about how I created these lists below the cut.
Before we get there, could I interest you in taking a quick poll, since I am Blazing this post and curious about the audience Blaze reaches? Thanks -- and happy Halloween season! :)
The construction of these lists was definitely not an exact science. For each fandom or relationship category, I filtered to only show works with the "Halloween" tag. I then looked for complete fics in each fandom that appeared to actually be about Halloween or a spooky topic (based on their summary and/or a quick text search), and had a lot of kudos. (I didn't actually read these fanworks myself, though.) I also tried to diversify and make sure that each category included a variety of ships/fandoms. I ruled out collections of one-shots and things that appeared to be part of a long series such that they couldn't be read as a standalone. I also ruled out things that looked like incredible bummers, and honestly a few things that had major grammatical errors in the summaries.
But I linked to more in each case, so you don't have to visit the example fics I highlighted -- you can explore more on your own!
Also -- I did a lot of copy/pasting, and there may be errors in here. Feel free to let me know if you find any. Thanks, and enjoy!
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Misery Reigns My Lonely Neon Nights
old man!logan x younger fem!reader
summary: logan should've said no. should've just drove the pretty waitress home. that's his job. hers is to serve his cup of coffee to the brim. so why is he riding you to his house?
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (cause we have a small daddy kink going on here.. hence the blog name BUT I DO HAVE A GOOD DAD), smut, this reeks of corruption kink for no reason other than me being a virgin whore, like he gets stalker-ish for a second but its logan howlett so we forgive him<3 ya está viejito, brief mention of suicide, sub logan edging on praising kink (if u squint), no protection but u gotta put the hat on the cowboy to ride the horse alr, riding, breeding kink??? angst (the depressing vibes are there cause they follow my writing like a shadow ijbol)
word count: 33,577 words (at the v crack of dawn.. i think i've gone insane FR it's 02:07 am and my brain its eating itself like im gonna start seeing logan in the corner of my room)
side note: newbie here after reading so many fanfics on tumblr but never publishing my own!! its hugh's birthday (well, its past midnight so no more but still!!! it was a couple hours ago) so i figured i should give it a try today cause that man does things to me ESPECIALLY as old man logan i can't lie and say the thought of him fucking me good and slow hasn't crossed my mind too many times 😩 we love sad hot old people in here so naturally my inaguration fic had to be done by him. also, i'm tired of scrapping for votes, comments, and interactions on wattpad so please treat me well during our first:// it's me moving to tumblr it's me hi i'm the problem it's me. i'm a feedback whore so pls leave tons of those!! also, english isn't my first language so if i make a grammar mistake pls do not tell me bc i have no respect for this language ―it just makes me cringe less to write smut on a language that isn't mine lol<3 but if there's any other mistake yes pls do tell me thank u OKAY BYE i needa quit yapping ENJOY dilf town<3
So it started something like this.
It was another simple nightshift for Logan. The weather humid, uncomfortably sticking the fabric of his white button shirt onto his skin. Even with the windows down. Those nights that the driving dragged on for long, like those cigarettes that now made him cough more than relax. The roads felt too long; his eyes too heavy.
Nothing new. Just about what to expect: money short, clients and traffic equally annoying. But that was the problem; nothing was new anymore.
He'd just finish dropping a customer close by, and since the tiring feeling didn't seem to leave his body just yet, a coffee wouldn't hurt. As a matter of fact, the need for a boost to make it home makes him get out of the car and limp his way into the first place his tired vision sees.
The rim of his recently adquired reading glasses slips as he climbs the stairs into the decades old diner, the decoration outdated. He understands; he feels the same way.
Neon lights flash his face when he enters the place and sits in the farthest booth he can find. The air is impregnated in grease and cheap coffee, but he waits at least fifty minutes to order, giving his body some time to rest. In the meanwhile, he tries to distract himself with the newspaper resting on the table, but God knows his eyes are too tired and his mind drifts every two words.
He hopes he doesn't get kicked out, judging from the attentive look he's receiving by a waitress resting on the bar. She looks as bored and tired as he does.
Maybe that's why he chooses her, raising his hand with order in mind. A black coffee. The waitress slides from her position and takes some steps to where he sits.
Her voice is sweet when she introduces herself, and Logan finds himself asking her again what her name is, pretending he's half deaf just to listen to it again.
"It's y/n" you repeat, oh so sickeningly sweet, he might have to skip on asking for sugar.
"Y/n" he savours the name on his lips, trying the tender sound, his eyes darting to the name tag, like he's confirming it. Testing to see if the young woman in front of him is real. Maybe his eyes linger a little too long, and the tip of your ears start to heat. Its the way he examines every feature on your face, like memorizing it in a sense, that makes you squirm. But maybe, just maybe, it's the small―brief, peak he gives to your exposed cleavage, pushing itself against the tight fabric of your uniform what truly gets your heart beating fast.
He looks like what your parents would warn you to stay away and your friends would talk behind your back. Rugged in a way that screams heartbreak, rough around edges your kind nature wishes to soften. It's unresonable to feel this way about a client you just met, but his aloof demeanor peaks your interest, so different from your usual costumers and familiar faces that pop up at the diner.
"Can I order you, darling?" his voice comes out deep, almost passing as a grunt. Just what you imagined it to sound. Why he's acting as his past self so effortlessly, after closing himself off to the point of going by entire days without talking more than three words, is concerning. Why the cute waitress who looks at him with doe eyes, expectant to take his order, is making him break the promise he made to himself not to get attached again―just live by enough to make it to the sea and put a bullet in his head.
"Well, that's just about my job" you joke, feeling confident for no reason. "But you can't order me".
"A damn shame" he chuckles, the sound deep, rumbling on his chest. It's been so long since he's laughed like that: carefree, without that pressing weight on his chest, that despite the sinking notion, sometimes feels more like a hole carved where his heart is supposed to be.
"So..." you trail off, unsure where to proceed after that sound that jolted your entire system awake, "what will you take?"
The banter dies, and Logan is dissapointed when she scribbles the dark coffee on her pretty round letter and walks away. He doesn't miss the sway of her hips, and almost calls her back just to hear her voice again. But he stops himself, because it's getting pathetic.
When she returns with her order, he almost regrets the comeback of his enhaced senses, her honeyed perfume mixed with the bitter smell of the freshly brewed coffee, creating an intoxicating mix.
His lips burn when he sips it, but that doesn't stop him from emptying the cup. Again. And again. All in the name for asking for more coffee, a magnetic force pulling him to the ground, making him forget he's a 200 and something year old man begging like a starved man for at least a fraction of her attention. He feels unworthy of your warmth.
He feigns interest on the newspaper when you return again (he's been stuck on the same paragraph ever since he sat down), the pot in your hands. If you've noticed he's emptied the cups faster than a normal person, you don't ask questions. He's thankful, but can see the amusement and confusion laced across your pretty face.
"More?" you ask, but it's unnecesary. He only nods, and you miss the chatter.
The closeness it's a challenge itself, the uniform's neckline practically shoved down his nose while she fills the cup to the brim. He hears his own heartbeat, the sound averting his attention from another "brief" glance at the cleavage. Is it intentional? Is your goodwill and act? Are you this cruel, playing with an old touch starved man like that?
God knows it's been long since he's had a helping hand during his relief hours.
He can't help it; he's a man, after all. So he seizes the moment and steals a glance. But his eyes meet yours, the wary green clashing with the cozy chocolate. There's warmth on your eyes, and he's looking at your tits like an animal. He pulls away, ashamed. The shirt feels a bit suffocating, and there's sweat on his forehead again. Great, you'll think he's a perv.
"Excuse me" you say, leaving his table. Logan is afraid of having fucked it up for thinking with this dick and not with his head. You were messing too much with his head, and now he'll pay the price. Fair, he thinks, for a perverted old man trying to woo a girl younger and far more innocent than him.
There's benevolance on her smile and blood on his hands.
The whole situation is stupid.
But then he's thinking of excuses (like saying it's his failing eyesight's fault) and something close to an apology, as if he cares a little too much about what you think. And then you come back.
"I forgot to bring you a napkin" she lies, leaving the piece of paper in the middle of the table. You laugh, and Logan let's you because 1. He deserves it, and 2. It's a sound as saccharine as the smell the freshly heated pies emit on the table across him.
You leave before he can even open his mouth, so all he's left with is the napkin that seems to have something written on it. Pervert, he reads, on the same calligraphy you scribbled on your bloc. He can't help but laugh, even with your watchful look on him.
That's how it continued.
Even if he had other rides and more energy to drive, he kept coming to the decaying diner just to see you. Almost as if he was forgetting his desperate need for the money, the boat goal further and further.
"You've forgotten about me" complained Charles, although his tone lacked of bite. "But I'm not mad that you've had".
He'd go on, rambling about living life but Logan just laughed. Yet, maybe he was right. Didn't even need his powers to know it.
Now, you? you simply couldn't get enough of your favorite costumer. Of his late stays until you closed, sometimes not muttering more than necessary, yet his company, even if curt, proved to be what you needed to make it through work, giving you a legitimate reason to yearn the before tedious night shifts.
Despite this two month weird relationship, Logan is as a stranger to you as he was the first day, no matter how many times you've tried to get him to talk. In the end, all your conversation efforts feel more of a monologue than a chat.
He knows about your mom and your dad, one strict the other dead. He knows most of your friends names, what you're studying and what you wanted to. Your dreams and your hopes, your aspirations, failures, and some other things you'd never say to anyone else out loud. All and nothing. And he listens, sometimes asking questions, but never about himself. He never takes the lead.
So frustration from the Logan enigma pours into you, the puzzle pieces layed out over your mind, consuming your thoughts. So now you're stubbornly cleaning the same grease spot on a table you've already wipped before, and that, coincidentally, it's the booth in front of Logan, the permanent resident of your head during these past weeks. You might as well make him start paying rent by now, his power and hold over you ridiculous.
"It's not going anywhere. Take it easy" he mocks you.
There's a bit of annoyance when you reply back, although it's mostly superficial. "Don't know what you're talking about" comes out your dry response, earning a low chuckle from him.
"How about you sit for a moment?" he offers, ignoring your apathy. "You're almost done cleaning up".
If his ever changing attitude isn't enough, closing this night's shift is as tiring.
Logan doesn't expect you to obey, but now you're sitting across from him, and a voice in his head says you maybe feel sorry for this lunatic old man.
You're so close, he can see the eye bags and sorrow you are far tired to try to hide.
"I have to finish cleaning" you explain, "we're about to close".
He doesn't know why he says it, or what takes over him when he says:
"I could wait for you"
He surprises himself and surprises you too.
"No need" you assure, and why does he feel so dissapointed. It's stupid. "My friend picks me up".
Ah, yes. The friend with the perfect stupid smile that picks you up every night. Not like he parks his car until you leave and sees the scene unfold each time, his white knuckle grip on the wheel a bit too much when the young boy opens up your door. Makes him see red, knowing he's your age and maybe the breathe of fresh air you need. Not a man far older, who bears too many sins and scars in and out.
"I see" he says after some minutes in silence, retracting his impulsiveness. "I'm sorry if I made you-"
"No!" you clarify hastily, "it doesn't bother me".
He smiles unconsciously in relief.
"Well, me neither. I insist. If you change your mind" he's practically begging, despite his monotone tone.
But you don't.
The place closes and Logan is forced to get in the car. He lights a cigarette, in no hurry to return home. The lighter lights up while the diner's light goes off. You and your boss come out, biding each other goodbye. She leaves and you're is left alone, hugging your body in the early morning cold.
He sees you wearing particular clothes, for the first time. He takes a slow drag on his cigarette, eyes running up and down your bare legs, the fragile fabric of the skirt fluttering in the wind. He exhales, watching as you dials your phone several times, getting no response, obviously frustrated.
He mutters something under his breath, and maybe there is a God after all. He starts the car, approaching her, who has already noticed it, probably because of the noise of the engine.
She looks scared, but Logan rolls down the window so she can see it's him.
"Need'a ride?"
Just by his reverberant sound you could accept. But you try to play cool for a while, despite your aching bones and need to get home.
"He doesn't answer" he was right, "my friend".
I know, he wishes to say, but he's the same hot headed asshole who walked through the doors of the X mansion for the first time, so his tone will be laced with irony. He doesn't want you to see him as an intense hot blooded mouth.
I could take you. His head pounds but he shuts the emotions down.
He shoves the knot on his throat down and asks as casually as possible, "do you live close?"
"Just around the corner" you answer. A beat, your frame bending so he can see your face from the driver's sit, the cleavage saying hello again. How considerate of you. "Do you really want to do this?"
Do you really want to do this?
The question rings on his ears. It holds more than just the favor. Logan knows they have a certain tension between them that he no longer wants to ignore. For the first time it seems to be reciprocated; palpable, and he is surprised to hear his heart beating loudly, so accustomed to hearing others' with his sharp senses, constantly forgetting what his own sounds like. Yours also beats erratically, despite your calm composure.
You arch an eyebrow, amused. "I can't believe you waited for me. Your family must be worried."
Logan realizes you're trying to test waters. So he raises his hand discreetly and places it on the door, so you can see the lack of a ring. As expected, your eyes travel to his free finger, and he can swear he sees you breathe with relief, which is funny, because in case you hadn't picked up until now, Logan is very much fucking alone.
"In case you changed your mind," he answers. "I have nowhere else to be."
That is enough of an invitation for you to get in the car.
"I was going to open that door for you" he protests.
You only laugh as you buckle the seatbelt. "It's not that big of a deal, really. You've already done enough for me by doing me the favor".
"It's not that big of a deal" he repeats your words, "as long as I'm of help, that's enough for me".
He smiles wistfully, remembering better times. A part of him still aspires to be that hero everyone loved and remembered, something that clearly doesn't happen anymore (or if it does, it's rare), given the lack of recognition of his former identity in El Paso. He shakes his head, focusing back on the street in front of him. It's too late to get fucking sentimental.
"I like to help too…" you confess, meekly. Logan sighs, how could he not know? "My father used to say that I had the kindest heart he'd ever met. I hope it stays that way, and that when he looks down on me, he's proud".
It hurts Logan to see you be so hard on yourself, as if he didn't do the same.
"I bet all the customers in the place would say you're the sweetest thing they've met", he sees you smile from the corner of his eye, and can't help but emulate it. "Believe me, you're their favorite".
"Thank you, Logan" you say sincerely. However, the affliction that he hates to see crosses your face. So gloomy that you don't even seem the same person.
You wipe away an unexpected tear, but Howlett is faster and notices. You turn around, looking towards the window. Then, you catch a glimpse of his license.
"So… you're a driver" you try to break the silence that Logan has put without knowing why. Maybe to give you some space after being sentimental and opening up again to this closed off wall name Logan, but he knows it's a lie. He's scared. After wanting so much to be closer to you, he cowers, not trusting himself and what he would do trapped in a small space with such an attractive woman. Besides, the tension from the previous conversation was still there.
"You judging me now, honey?" the pet name rolls off his tongue before he catches it. He tries to play it cool, continuing the banter, carrying the same tone. "The only thing necessary to make you trust me was to give you a free ride?
"I'm in your car, Logan. I got in without thinking" you laugh. "I believe that's enough trust"
"Then, I'll keep doing you favors. Maybe if I do…" he trails off.
Your voice drops an octave, provocative. "Maybe what?"
His knuckles grip the steering wheel until they turn white.
"Maybe…" he hesitates, "maybe…"
"It's here" you point out. Shit, Logan curses, braking abruptly without meaning to.
"See you tomorrow" you bid as a goodbye, getting out of the car. Logan misses your smell.
So he sticks his head out the window, like a begging dog.
"How about now?" he says a bit forcefully.
Your face shows surprise and something else.
"You're getting attached" you reply, and he doesn't know why there seems to be sadness in your voice.
"I just keep coming back for the coffee" he defends himself.
You laugh, shaking your head "Now, then. For the coffee, clearly."
"I can leave" he says. Yet, makes no move to leave.
You sigh, giving him one last look. Surrender, he reads.
"You're a driver, right?" he nods, taking in every word coming of your pink plush lips. "Then let's drive off. Anywhere" your voice trails off, and you're just so tired of everything, you'll just let go yourself with the flow. "I'll go wherever you go..."
And this is how it ends.
When you wake up, it's almost dawn.
Logan had suggested you to sleep, claming the road where he was taking you to be long. He had covered you with his jacket, even if your body was burning from nerves.
Why had you agreed? Your mom would probably smack your head in search for some sense, and your reckless friends would encourage you to do it for the sake of a story. But something about Logan makes you feel safe, despite not knowing anything from him. It's sort of a sense of protection―like he would never hurt you, that envelops him. Everyone else would call you crazy; only you can understand that.
When your eyes adjust to the light, you realize you're in a line of cars.
"Did you bring me to the border?" you exclaim groggily, still in a sleepy voice.
"Good morning" he answers instead.
You rub yoou eyes, settling into the passenger seat.
"You're not going to kidnap me, right?" you question, half joking half serious.
Logan laughs, "Not only that. I'm also going to throw your body in a mass grave"
"It's not funny," you pout, although you're laughing too.
Once you've crossed the border, Logan drives a few more minutes, until he reaches a restricted area.
“I live here” he answers before you can ask, “saves rent and questions”
After opening the locks, you can better appreciate the place. Well, appreciate may not be the right word.
“It's an abandoned smelting plant” you voice out loud.
Logan just nods. You realize that he didn't like the comment, so you try not to talk about it anymore.
“Come” he gets out of the car, going to open your door. He offers you a hand, and you fail to hide your smile.
“You didn't miss this time, huh? Quite a gentleman” you praise. Then, add jokingly, “if you choose to kill me, at least I'll die taken care of".
“Stop talking nonsense and go inside” he scolds but smiles.
Inside, the abandoned plant is exactly what you expected.
"We're alone" Logan says, after leaving to check. He opens the door to his room, letting you in. There's not much inside, just a bed and scattered things. A yellowish light begins to filter through the broken glass. "I'mma change. Be right back".
You begin to explore your surroundings, to avoid thinking about the impact of the situation. Two things could happen: leave or stay. Maybe everything was going too fast, but you prided yourself on your spontaneity, often confused with impulsiveness. Others would say it was your naive nature: too innocent for your own good.
What had led you to accept without further ado? Was trust enough, that you had even fallen asleep in his car?
"S'rry for the wait"
You notice that Logan's gotten rid of his formal attire, leaving him in just slacks and an old white tank top. His muscles flex with every movement, making you swallow involuntarily. He still retains his extraordinary physique, despite his greying hair. She can't help but stare at the scars that cover his exposed skin, her fingers itching to trace them.
"Haven't they told ya' t's rude to stare?"
You look away, embarrassed. Logan walks over to the bed, bumping into you in the process, bodies barely touching. Still, an electric shock runs through you. You hug yourself, scared, aware of the effect he has on you.
"Logan" she dares to ask, "what are we doing?"
He finally looks at you. You feel naked under his intense gaze.
"What do you want us to do?"
His voice comes out low, like a growl. You stand in place stiff, unable to form a word.
"Come on, honey", the nickname comes out of his lips so easily, it hurts. "Are ya losing your voice now? Got into my car a while ago without thinkin', what's changed?"
You slowly approach Logan, each stride calculated. He watches you in silence, a silence as hostile as the wind hitting the broken windows, watching you remove your clothes, until all that's left is your bra and that skimpy skirt, as if you knew he liked it.
"Logan…" you whisper his name like a prayer, letting yourself fall on his legs. He holds you with his hard calloused fingers, like a promise.
Don't let me fall. Don't let me go. Don't leave me.
The habit of loneliness settles in between, and the flame they thought in deep slumber rekindles, burning with their long time unattended needs.
"Use your words, sweet thing" the trepidation condenses between, "we're grown up now, aren't we? Use your words"
If by words he meant feeling your lips against his, it's enough to have Logan following his impulses, using his strength to embrace your body until they feel like one, the scars on his hands feeling like your own. Your lips move in sync, and it's almost so casual, so learned, so meant to be, that fear appears in Logan, soon forgotten with the symphony of moans that come from your lips.
"Tell me" he pauses, breaking away from the kiss (something you don't like and express in the form of a pout), "what do you want?"
Logan tastes like cigars and whiskey, a combination you hate and the reason you quit your old job at the bar, but on his lips, it's an intoxicating taste.
"I want you, Logan" you whisper, hot breath against his skin, “you”.
He resumes the kiss, an electric shock of hunger and need between you: lips parted, colliding, teeth almost clashing against each other.
His fingers hesitate with a delicacy that belies his rough touch, the tips of his worn fingers lifting the fragile cloth of your skirt first, revealing soaking wet panties he goes crazy just at the sight of. The smell is sugary, sicklingly, so now he's hard and pulling at the clasp of your bra first, exposing your nipples, which he rolls and pinches mercilessly. A gasp escapes you—then another, and another as Logan pushes his thigh between your legs. The friction is delicious, almost painful against your pulsing center.
His hand firm up his position, securing itself onyour bare legs as you digs her nails into him. His labored moans turn into a guttural growl.
“You think I’m not capable?” he mocks, stealing another moan from her, “that I can’t keep up with you, you pretty young thing?”
You deny it, but Logan takes it upon himself to show you that he can take you like he's in heat, the ghost of his old self taking over in his almost animal way of fucking you, hips arched, muscles flexed and tense, his teeth appearing every time he opens his mouth, reminding you of fangs. They dig into your exposed skin, leaving bruises that will take time to disappear from your shoulders and neck, marking what belongs to him.
The hardness of his skin meets your soft when he grabs you by the waist.
"Look at you" it slips from his tongue, ecstatic. He's a goner, saliva dripping from the messy and sloppy kisses he leaves through your collarbone, "so good and so pure. I bet you're innocent, that you haven't seen what I've seen..."
His pupils darken, a strange mix between torment and desire in his gaze. Hungry and violent.
"Will you let me show you how's a real man s'ppossed to treat a woman?"
He feels shame settle in his belly, the hunger to possess her almost virgin body fueling his dark desire of errasing her sweet smile until she's an unintelligible mess of sobs. To show her what she would complain about, so she'll never slettle for less. So you can feel what it's to be taken care of―handled. And then he'll fill you up with his seed, so no other man will take what's his. His sweet little thing. Oh, he's so going to hell for this.
But maybe he likes pain.
"That's it, honey" he plays with the fabric of your wet panties, pulling at the loose threads in the delicate fabric. "Let me show you".
You take it off, and Logan lies back against the bed, spreading his legs and unbuttoning his belt and pants―a clear invitation to repeat the previous position, except this time, his hands are on top of your hips, squeezing the soft skin. He doesn't take his eyes off you, his gaze reserved only on you. If the adrenaline from before pushed you, now the confidence gained motions you to finish the task. It's just the push you need, remembering that this is what it feels like to be with a real man as you throw a leg over his hips, sitting your ass right on top of the bulge marked on his underwear.
“Right… there…” he barely manages to formulate a coherent train of words, the years of lack of help in attending to his needs leading to overstimulation, “good girl.”
The compliment makes you increase the pace of your hips, his labored breaths a sound so rich and so manly it makes you squirm.
You need it desperately, rubbing your increasingly wet clit against him, riding the fabric. His scruffy beard barely hides the smug smile that graces his lips.
“Like this?” she whispers, and Logan can no longer contain himself, staring at his sweaty, ripped body failing to please her completely. It feels so good it aches, and he can't believe this is how he's ended. But if that means having your pretty face on top of him, covered in his marks, dripping on your joint sweats, well maybe it isn't so bad.
“How can I repay you, honey?” he pleads. He'll try he's best. He just wants to give you a glimpse of the way his whole world has light up ever since he stumbled in that greasy diner.
“You said you were going to show me” it comes out almost as a purr, expectant, “and I’m waiting”.
Logan takes it as his cue, pulling down his underwear until his member is exposed, chuckling darkly when you swallow at the sight.
"Don't tell me you're scared already" he teases, "look how you have me… you can't leave me like this…"
You stifle a scream as you feel every inch of his thick cock enter your sensible walls, trying to fit his member inside of your needy body.
"So tight for me" he stammers, using his hands to keep you in place, on top of him. The only sound in the silence of that place that smells of death is that of their skin colliding―vulgar, the obscenity highlighted by being the only thing that can be heard in the small room.
Even though his stamina has dropped over the years, he thrusts into you relentlessly. Logan fucks you senseless, his balls buried deep in your dripping pussy, a constant rhythm of avid suction with each entry to your walls.
He takes a moment to see you as you take something from the nighstand he doesn't remember putting there.
"Look what I found" you whisper in the middle of your moans. Logan recognizes the shine of metal in front of his eyes, "so Wolverine?"
You say it so easily, like it's not the first time. With acceptance; it scares him.
Do you recognize him? Are you not scared? Why haven't your eyes go from curiosity and kindness to cold and rejection?
He should panic, rip off his dog tags from your hands and pretend he doesn't know who he used to be, but he's so deep inside you and so enraptured, he can only manage to gently take them from between your fingers and put them around your neck, the cold metal against your warm, bare skin creating an electric shock.
"I want to see them on you"
He likes to watch it hang over his face while you're on top, panting heavily as she repeats his name, slurring her words. It dangles with every thrust, the silver glistens in the seeping sun, just like the sweat that adorns her skin.
"Are you that needy of your old man? " he teases, caressing her. He smacks the curve of his ass, “You want more?”
His veiny length makes quick work of your needy hole, more moans escaping your lips.
“Shit,” you curse, wincing at the pain that begins to increase. “Yes, Logan. Just like that. Nobody ever treated me like that, nobody's made me feel like this-”
He moans, pleased with the praise, seeing he isn't as lacking as he thought. Making you feel good is his priority, but he won't lie and say he doesn't want to feel it too.
In an attempt to distract yourself, your eyes try to focus on him: searching his features, memorizing every scar, every wrinkle, every little grey hair.
“You’re perfect, Logan,” you mumble through a moan, the confession hiding more than you want to say and more than he cares to admit.
Before he can process it though, the fire in his stomach signals the arrival of his impending orgasm.
There's something delightful about the way you can barely speak, a mess of moans that sound like his name, eyes half-lidded and lips swollen alongside your messy hair.
He feels almost sick to be consuming something that doesn't and shouldn't belong to him. He doesn't deserve to have such a beautiful, young woman riding him while she clings to him like he's the last thing in this world, him: a worn, old man who can't keep up with her.
His member spasms, and it's got you feeling it all inside your walls, causing him to close his eyes in the process as well.
It's too soon, Logan thinks in shame, but it's been so long and you feels so good, he let's it go:
Thick whips of his cum shoot out of his member, drawing out more than you would've imagined. You don't have much time to think about it, for the orgasm hits you immediately, fingers curling and eyes rolling to the back of your skull.
Logan feels his tip getting wetter, and the extra lubrication is a nice finishing touch.
“God,” he gasps, “what a mess…”
You avoid looking at him, taking one of his hands in yours, kissing the red and violet painted knuckles. If you do, you'll give away what you feel, the same way her memory burns in Logan's chest, more now than ever, as his mouth tastes just like you.
Dependency.
Devotion. Absolute. Sick.
Maybe that was what he felt. This weird feeling. That abyss piercing his chest but never killing him (so much for regenerating...), pressing his heart with a crushing force whenever it threathened to beat again. Logan was content with rather nothing, always a man who didn't ask for much, and since the death of his family―the X-men, less.
"You should go" he mutters in defeat, the shame washing over. Even if he'll miss your warmth, even if he doesn't want you to leave at all. "It's for your own good, y/n. Pretend you don't know me and turn around. Go away" he insists yet gets stuck on his words, "you're not stupid. Then you'll know it's good for you and you'll never speak to me again"
He looks at the ground, cowardly, because he wants your lust filled warm look to be the last memory he remembers. Not whatever look you're giving him now.
So Logan closes his eyes and counts to ten. When he opens them, you'll be gone. It'll be a dream, something too good to be true. Short lived, like every good thing in his life.
"Logan..." you calls his name. So softly it seems like a breath.
You're still here.
"Logan" you call again, more firmly.
"Logan" you don't give up, cupping with one hand his face gently, "look at me".
When he looks up, he comes across a heartbreaking vision. You cry, tears falling like waterfalls down your cheeks. But that's not the most devastating thing, no: it's the look in your eyes, as if you've shared his pain. As if you've had suffered the same things he had suffered; a twisted reflection of him.
"Of course I understand you" you take his hands, and Logan feels that same strange warmth he felt the first time when your hands brushed his with the diner's menu. "I've also lost people… people I loved. Don't you think it hurts me to see the world go on as if nothing happened? Everyone forgets, Logan. But I can't; there's not a day that goes by when I don't think about them"
For a moment, you stop crying, and the hidden internal turmoil he tried so hard to decipher finally makes sense.
"I don't know what you've been through either, but I can promise you, that I understand you more than you think…" it seems like you'll say something else, but you stop and say instead. "Think, Lo: would these people want to see you like this?"
"It's what I deserve" he murmurs barely, his voice constipated but without shedding a single tear.
"It's not what we want, Logan. Please" you sniff, pained "stop being so hard on yourself".
"I'm not who you think I am" he insists. You're still naked on his bed, and he feels dirty for having you like this. For taking you to his home and fucking you raw out of your innocence. "I'm not a good person."
"No, Logan" you seem hurt by that statement. You trace one of his most recent scars with a touch so compassionate, that he feels your fingertips burn, "you are a hero".
Your words were so sweet, so comforting. He wanted to sink into your lap, which smelled like flowers and tasted like safety. A home; a life that had been taken from him. He wanted to believe everything you said―feel who you believed he was. Not this pathetic, tired and apathetic version of himself, but the old version: the version that inspired respect, that despite his tough exterior, had a family he loved. Because he had a heart. Now he feels like he has no soul: no purpose, nothing.
But maybe you are the answer.
Before he can change his mind, you blurt out “can I stay?”
That morning, in that old bed that creaks under his weight, Logan discovers that feeling alive again isn't so bad.
#dilfistwrites#logan howlett x you#logan howlett#logan x reader#deadpool and wolverine#wolverine x reader#wolverine smut#james logan howlett#old man logan#old man logan save me#old man young girl#logan howlet x reader#logan angst#x men#the wolverine#wolverine angst#xmen smut#logan fluff#logan howlett fluff#logan howlett angst#logan howlett imagine#wolverine imagine#logan howlett fic#logan howlett fanfiction#marvel#marvel smut
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this blog got me feeling some typa way babesssss
dreaming about a young professor reader who thinks logan is constantly condescending to her when he asks about her lesson plans or curriculum… but he just doesn’t know how to start a conversation with her.
so when she has a bad day and snaps at him about his constant ‘patronizing’ he’s obviously very amused. because he’s honestly been looking for an excuse to chat with the hot, way too young for him piece of ass in a pencil skirt.
bonus points if he bends her over her desk and fucks her like a whore on it. and bonus bonus points if she thinks about it when she comes to her classroom the next day for class to find him leaning on it.
gotta feed the monsters in us i guess
ugh i need to write some logan smut to post already
I LOVE YOUR BLOG ITS SO- *animal noises*
- visionsofcarnality 🤭🫶
𝜗𝜚˚⋆ — a lil' help !
The past few days have been hell, actual fucking hell. You had never imagined that the kids would be so... unnerving. It turned out that they cared a lot less about genetic mutation biology then you would've thought. All you needed was a cigarette and a calm, quiet office for god's sake — no interruptions, especially not logan. “Got your curriculum figured out for next week?” his voice, low and rough, cut through the silence as he leaned against your doorway. You stiffened, feeling that familiar sting of irritation. It was the fifth time this month he’d asked you something like that, and every time, it grated on your nerves. You knew you were younger than most of the faculty, barely in your mid-twenties, but did he have to rub it in with his constant questioning? As if you didn’t know what you were doing. “Yes, Logan,” you replied, barely masking the edge in your voice. “I have it under control.” You didn't like how your words had absolutly no affect on him, he didn't move, didn't budge, didn't back down. It was like he was waiting or searching for something, “You sure about that? You look like you could use some help.” “I don’t need your help, Logan. I don’t need you constantly questioning me about my lesson plans, my missions or my fucking curriculum. I’ve been doing this for years, and I don’t need some — some condescending jackass acting like I’m not capable.” His mouth parted in surprise yet his lips twitched in amusement, "Really? Is that what you think I’ve been doin’? Condescending to you?” You shake your head, looking through the papers for tommorow, you couldn't deal with this today, "Yes, that's what I think." Logan pushed himself of the door frame, his fingers instantly moving to your shoulders like he was trying to reassure you, "You're young. You're new and you're trying your best, but you're feeling a bit...overwhelmed." You took another puff, finally looking up to his face. "I appreciate," the tone you use sounds almost sarcastic, "your concern but I'm getting by just fine." Yet you feel his finger absentmindedly trace over the skin of your neck as you lean back ever so slightly, almost on auto pilot. “Logan,” you said, trying to inject some authority into your voice whilst putting out the cig in a close ash tray but it came out breathier than you intended- His proximity was doing things to you, things you didn’t want to acknowledge, let alone act on. But Logan, perceptive as always, didn’t miss a beat. He didn't decide to comment on the little faltter in your voice, just brushes one of your hair strands behind your ear, the action feels intimate, a bit to much so. His hands work on gently pushing you down onto the desk, your face pressed against the cold surface, his rough fingers work on riding up your skirt. If you're not mistaken you can hear the fabric of your panties ripping as you scoff, "Y'know you could've just taken them off." It sounds more like a statement then a question, not that you'd really be intrested in one when all you could think bout was his dick. "That's no fun," you could faintly make out, the dull sound of his belt hitting the floor also, "You don't even understand how much i've been imagining you, like this — you, and your damn skirts." Your hands clench into fists on the desk, your knuckles turning white as you try to keep some semblance of control as he thrusts into you. He leans over you, his chest pressing against your back as he pounds into you, his breath hot against your ear. “This what you needed, darlin’?” he growls, his voice rough and strained with his own pleasure. “Needed someone to fuck that stress right outta you?” He’s fucking you like an animal, hard and fast, and it’s exactly what you needed. The desk creaks beneath the force of his thrusts, with this pace you could perfectly forget about all those kids that make you lose more and more brain on the daily. That's exactly what you think about when you see logan leaning against your desk the next day, all innoccently yet gazing u you like he was about to eat you alive, in front of countless of children.
You could certaintly use his help every now and then — not on the curriculum of course.
#.🎀⋆ logan! thoughts#THIS ASK AJSJSJSK#also thank u thank u thank u#logan howlett#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine smut#logan howlett smut#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#logan howlett fanfiction#hugh jackman#logan howlett imagine
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Run Rabbit
Stalker!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Word count: 913
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, stalker!nat, public sex, public play, primal play, hunter/prey, toxic ideology
Authors notes: This was the first one I wrote for kinktober and probably still one of my favorites that I wrote this whole month.
You always knew she was there. You just never actually saw her unless she wanted you to. It was rare if ever that she let you see her.
The first time you saw her you were sitting down at a crowded mall. She had sat right next to you, a hand coming up on the back of your neck before you could even register it. A moan wanting to come out but you stopped yourself.
You had looked over to see a face hidden by a face mask and sunglasses with her hoodie pulled up. You could see small wisps of red peaking out.
“Don't scream. Don't say a word.” She speaks just loud enough to hear you. “I know you've wanted this for sometime. Saw you posting about it on your blog. So I did some digging and found out you lived right near me. I've always wanted to do this, but I didn't know until I saw your pictures and your posts,” her grip tightens and you go from frightened to fuzzy as she restricts your air. “That it had to be you, bunny.”
You wanted to open your mouth and protest, but as she let go a moment only to restrict you again, her nails digging in slightly just enough to leave little red crescent marks before slowly disappearing.
She leaned in, whispering in your ear, “I'm gonna keep an eye on you bunny. You're my little bunny now.” A shiver ran through you as her voice tickled the shell of your ear. Your eyes fluttered closed as she let go of you, getting up and disappearing into the crowd.
That was only the first of many encounters until finally you got what you truly wanted.
You made a very deliberate post about a fantasy. You wanted to be chased through the woods until you got caught and then fucked. No matter how much you screamed no matter if you said that you didn't want it. You saw her like the post immediately and a private message saying
“I can't wait.”
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
There was a chill in the air as the sun sat low in the sky. Autumn was coming in quickly, but you had worn revealing clothes to make the chase more exciting once she caught you. A thrill shot through you at the idea of it. You knew you shouldn't be turned on by the idea of your stalker chasing you through the woods to inevitably fuck you, but you very much were.
A hand on your shoulder and the whisper in your ear, “Run bunny.”
Your heart pounded as you took that first step. Running through the crunching leaves breathing heavy and heart ready to come out of your chest. Hiding behind a tree as you try to stay quiet and yet.
A hand wraps around your throat, eyes snapping up to look at her. No mask, no glasses, no hoodie. She'd always stayed hidden, but here she was before you making your head spin for multiple reasons.
Her free hand found its way up your skirt. Feeling over your clothed cunt you hear a deep rumble of a chuckle.
“You're so soaked, bunny. Is this all for Me?” Her husky voice is in your ear. You nod dumbly at her words, but she smacks your cheek, bringing you back to her. “Words bunny.” A moan left you before you were able to answer.
“Yes My Fox. All for you.” You were desperate for her. She smirked at the nickname. Assuming you had gotten it from her blog. Just as she had gotten yours from your blog.
Her hand moved from between your legs to pull out the strap she was packing. She pulled your panties to the side and slid through your folds. Both of you moaning out at the contact. She picked you up and easily slipped inside of you.
“Fuck…bunny…feels so good.” She moaned out as she started to pound into you. You felt the tree dig into your back as she pounded up into you.
“So fucking good Fox.” You gripped onto her, your nails clawing down her back as her lips left their mark on your neck.
You had wanted this, needed this for so long. No one would ever play how you wanted. None of your partners thought it was okay, told you to seek help before leaving and yet here you were getting fucked in the woods by your stalker.
Did you need help?
Probably.
But right now, nothing else mattered besides how she was making you feel.
“Fuck…bunny I'm cumming. Want you to cum with me.” Her hand finds your throat once more, that fuzzy feeling coming back as you felt that build up. As she fell over the edge, so did you.
You couldn't remember a better orgasm than the one you just had. As you were tentatively set down your legs wobbled and your Fox kept a hold on you as she situated herself back and picked you up.
You took another look up at her as she carried you bridal style out of the woods. She was absolutely beautiful. How did you get so lucky to have someone like her?
If anyone ever heard you call your stalker beautiful and that you were lucky to have her they'd think you were crazy and well maybe you were, but you were hers and you didn't want to be sane if it meant not having her.
#ley writes#ley writes one shots#leys kinktober writing#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x fem!reader#stalker!natasha romanoff#stalker!natasha#stalker!nat#kinktober 2024
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I've got some very exciting news
Since the start of October is about a week away (I know how gross where did the year go?) and we all know that marks the start of the kinkiest month of the year, I've got some exciting news
I am doing Kinktober this year, as I think I've stated before previously. I'm not doing every day again this year since I had to make my own list and just didn't really feel inspired by some and just didn't have the energy to write others.
Then I got a brilliant idea.
This year's Kinktober will have a...bit of a theme...
Allow me to use a meme to explain
Yes, all of my kinktober fics will be centered around Kyle, our beloved Gaz, Mr. Severely Underappreciated And That's A Crime.
The fics are all kink-related. Some are just straight kinks, others may involve some uh...other things 😏
I'll be releasing a more in-depth post closer to October 1st that will also serve as the masterlist (and I will be linking it on my navigation post as its own link). I have an update schedule planned for Kinktober (and CRCB will still be ongoing during October but we will be having a conversation about that fic separately) and will be posting on my taglist blog for Kinktober fics as well since that blog is for everything that gets released on this blog. So if you would like to be notified of when Kinktober fics come out, give that blog a follow and turn on notifications. (I sound like a YouTuber)
Anyway, that's the plan. We're giving Kyle some much deserved attention and love for Kinktober. I will also have some other things going on over on my Patreon for paid-Patrons since I can't make NSFW stuff public, so if you're interested go and check that out.
But yes, so much content is coming in October for y'all and honestly I'm really excited. You'll get more detailed info in the Kinktober masterlist which will probably be dropping closer to the weekend or maybe even next Monday. We'll see. I'll also be posting some news about CRCB here soon as well, also probably closer to the end of the week.
Anyway, I hope you all have a lovely day and I'll be back regularly scheduled weekly posting (asks and comment reblogs) here probably in a couple hours from when this post originally posted. If you're seeing this later then...I've probably already started 💚
#i'm so excited#y'all have no idea#they're all already written#I just need to edit and make some changes#and we'll be hot to go#hahaha see what I did there?
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caramel pie | J.P
summary: james smells caramel pie on the amortentia potion
james potter x fem!reader
word count: 3.750 content: teeth rotting fluff, angst warnings: crying, reader blushes notes: one thing about me is i love me some amortentia fic with a side of james fluff ughh also i listened to glue song by beabadoobee while writing this :) p.s i accidentally posted this on my side acc so if anyone wanna be mutuals my main blog is @beastofbrden :)
- Someone please, kindly remind me why I decided that continuing Herbology after the O.W.Ls was a good idea? - Y/N huffed out, sitting at the Gryffindor table for lunch.
The four boys sitting around her laughed.
- Learned a lot today, uh? - Sirius asked, ironically.
- Oh yeah, loads! We had to feed toad flesh to those terrible toad-eating plants. For some reason, mine just didn't feel like eating it without regurgitating it all back on me!
The boys went hysterics, and even the girl couldn't help but laugh along.
- There's still a little piece there - James pointed. - Here, let me take it out for you.
He took out a small chunk of toad flesh off her hair.
- Well, may I remind you, Y/N, that no one told you to keep up with Herbology. We all dipped from it while we could and no one else has pieces of toad on our hair - Sirius noted, clearly getting a good laugh out of the girl's toad disaster.
- I just didn't want to hurt Sprout's feelings!
She sighed and brushed her hair with her fingers, only then looking at the food in front of her.
- Merlin, I'm starving! Could eat anything right now.
- Even toad? - Remus joked, sending the group on another laughing crisis.
By the time of dessert, Y/N started scanning the table for something. Clearly not finding it, her panic started showing.
- Oh no. Where's the caramel pie?
- They didn't serve any today - James replied, needing all the strength on his body to stay deadpanned. The other three boys were deep in conversation, and him being the one sitting closer to Y/N (as always) only he noticed the girl's agitation.
- What??? What do you mean they didn't serve any? In the six years I've been here they never not served it and I can't believe they chose today to…
- I'm just joking - James pulled a plate that was hidden behind the steak pudding, smiling playfully at the girl - Saved it for ya.
- James! I would go mad if they stopped serving this pie, y'know! - she let out a relieved breath.
- Nah, don't worry. They will keep serving it, or I would fight the elfs for ya.
- One day I’ll hide your figgy pudding, then we’ll see.
- You wouldn’t dare, missy.
James watched with a soft look on his eyes as the girl took the first bite of her favorite dessert.
- Thank you for saving me a piece, Jamie - she leaned her head on his shoulder for a moment to show gratitude. When she got closer, he smelled the vanilla scent of her hair and the caramel pie on her lips.
After lunch, the five went straight to Slughorn's classroom.
- Good evening, dears, good evening! Now if you could get up and get closer, I want to show you something!
The whole class shifted near the table Slughorn was sitting behind.
- Here, we have a very special potion. - He pointed towards a bubbling caldron full of a crystal clear liquid - Very tricky to make, very characteristic and perhaps one of the most dangerous we can brew. Can anyone tell me it's name?
Y/N's hand rose in the air.
- Yes, ms. Y/L/N.
- It's Amortentia, or simply the love potion. Since true love can't really be produced by any sort of magic, it causes more of a crush or an obsession.
- Correct. Ten points to Gryffindor! - Slughorn smiled.
- Nerd - James whispered, messing up Y/N’s hair.
- Sod off, Potter.
- You see, one of the most intriguing things about Amortentia is its scent. Everyone smells something different, because its scent is completely dependent on what each person feels personally attracted to. Now, who wants to come forward and tell me what it smells like?
No one volunteered. No wonder, since it's a very particular thing to simply say in front of a whole classroom.
- No one? I'll pick someone then. Let me think... - Slughorn scanned the faces around. - Ah! Mr. Potter, you will do.
James was caught by surprise. He had been distracted by the warmth radiating off Y/N, that was almost resting her head on his chest.
- Me? - he asked and pointed towards himself.
- Of course you! Is there any other Mr. Potter?
The whole class laughed as James stepped closer, his signature boyish grin splashed on his face.
- Now Mr. Potter, lean in and smell the potion.
James ran his hands through his hair and did as told. One single sniff and his smile fell off his face completely. The scent was unmistakable: vanilla and caramel pie. Vanilla body cream, caramel pie for dessert, everyday. He had the urge to see if Y/N wasn't standing next to him, but he knew she hadn't moved from across the table. He knew he had to lie. If he said what it smelled like to him, everyone would know it was Y/N's smell.
- So, Mr. Potter. Whenever you are ready to share.
He looked at where Y/N was. She was looking at him, just as well as everyone else. She looked relaxed, the potion's glow making her look specially pretty, angel-like. Think of something, fast. Something not at all related to what you are really smelling, something like...
- It’s wood and broomstick polisher.
- Very well then Mr. Potter. Looks like you've got a thing for Quidditch, uh?
The class laughed, and everyone looked convinced. James Potter, Quidditch captain, smelling broomstick polisher and wood? Fitting. James high-fived himself for his quick thinking, and let out a relieved sight. Now, no one would go around thinking the wrong things.
Later that night, in the common room, however, the potions class was almost burning a hole through James' head. Slughorn said Amortentia smelled of what attracted each person the most. Attraction was romantic, sexual attraction. But Slughorn had been pretty vague, hadn't he? He could've meant attraction in any context. It could mean anything. It could mean platonic love, right? If Slughorn didn't think much of James smelling Quidditch, it probably meant it could smell of anything the person liked a lot, right? But it was a love potion. That caused passion. And Slughorn said he had a thing for Quidditch. A thing. But he didn't have a thing for Y/N! He loved her, of course. Everyone knew she was his best friend, they did everything together and she was probably his favorite person in the world. Yeah, maybe he went to extreme lengths to see her happy, and yeah, maybe he was a bit too affectionate with her, but she was his best friend.
- Can't do homework anymore. - James was ripped off his thoughts by Y/N's presence. She threw her backpack at the ground in front of the sofa he was in and layed down - My brain feels like mush.
James looked at her. Her head was resting on his lap, and she looked extremely comfortable. That was obvious, since they always had been this affectionate towards each other. They both were very touchy people, and it felt natural to be in constant physical contact. James was always happy, eager even, to be like this with her. In a platonic way. Obviously. Today, however, her skin on his felt like it burned.
- How was it? - James asked, coughing to conceal the way his voice failed a bit in the first word.
- Homework? Awful. It's not that difficult, but it's too much. And it just seems pointless, you know? What will I actually learn from writing 19 inches about toad eating plants? Nothing, I tell you what! - The girl sighed and closed her eyes again - Just wanna go to sleep, really.
He didn't know what to answer. He normally would have made a joke about the plants, added more criticism about essays or something. But he didn’t even do his homework, with how paranoid he was. For the first time ever, he was completely speechless in her presence. Her eyelashes were resting peacefully on her pink cheeks. The light from the fireplace made her skin look more flushed, and her hair had a golden glow to it. She looked awfully pretty. James knew that, of course. She had always been pretty. But tonight.. when she moved her head a little bit, he smelled the amortentia smell. Vanilla and caramel pie, just as strong as it was that afternoon.
- You are way too quiet today, Jamie. - She opened her eyes and he felt something weird in the pit of his stomach - Ate too much pudding?
- Yeah, probably.
She stretched and yawned, sending another wave of vanilla and caramel pie to James' nostrils.
- Going to bed - she got up. Her hair was messy and the light from the fireplace behind her looked like a halo. - Night, Jamie.
She lowered herself and pecked his cheek lightly.
- Sleep well - her soft voice was way too close to his ear, turning James' legs into jelly.
He watched her going up the stairs to the dormitory, and the place she had kissed burned long after she was gone.
He had no reason to be this nervous for the potions class the next morning. Slughorn had already moved on from amortentia, since it was a difficult, dangerous and time-consuming potion to make, but James was half hoping the potion would be brought up again, and half hoping everyone would collectively forget about it completely. Slughorn didn't mention the potion again, moving on directly to Felix Felicis. He watched the whole class on the edge of his seat. He had decided he would ask the teacher about the potion just to calm himself down. Just to make sure. Everyone had been really concentrating on making the best draught of living death the whole period, but James just wanted the class to end so he could ask Slughorn and stop eating himself alive.
- Alright, alright. Congratulations mr. Snape on your draught. Truly outstanding! - Slughorn said, raising a round of applause - Class dismissed!
Everyone started to gather their backpacks and leave, but James made sure to stay back. He pretended to be very interested in a weird type of algae that Slughorn kept in a little ampoule. Just a few more moments and then he'll say that no, I don't have romantic feelings for Y/N and that i just really like caramel pie or something, and then i'll stop going mental...
- Gillyweed. - Slughorn’s voice dragged James off of his daydreams
- Uh? - James frowned in confusion, wondering what the teacher was talking about.
- The algae you're looking at, Mr. Potter. Gillyweed. Helps the person breathe underwater.
- Oh, yeah, right. Professor Slughorn, I was wondering if I could ask you something.
- Sure, my boy, ask away - Slughorn encouraged while distractingly stacking some parchments.
- I was wondering… about the Amortentia potion.
Slughorn stopped his movements and lifted his eyes directly to James.
- Oh, I see - He looked very amused, for some reason. - What were you wondering?
- Let's just say a friend of mine smells it and it reminds him of someone. It could smell like someone he just truly cares about, couldn't it? Like, it doesn't necessarily mean he's in love with the person that the scent reminds him of, right?
Slughorn's lopsided smile grew bigger.
- I'm afraid, no, my boy.
- What? - James felt like the classroom got three times smaller and hotter by the minute - But I smelled wood and polishing oil, and I'm not in love with a broom, am i?
- Mr. Potter, Mr. Potter... - Slughorn chuckled. - I think we both know you didn't smell any of that.
James felt his face getting warm and red.
- But, if you did, that would mean you have a crush on a Quidditch player, let's just put it like that. Amortentia is a very strong love potion, and we can only smell things in it that romantically attract us very deeply. Those of us that aren't in love with anyone would smell something quite abstract. But if this friend of yours smelled amortentia and recognized the scent as someone's, then boy do I have news for him. Does this answer your question?
- Hm, yeah, sure. - James agreed. He felt like he was gonna fall down from the absurd speed at which his mind was racing. - Thank you, Professor.
- Anytime. - James began to leave, completely out of it. - Oh, and Mr. Potter?
- Yes? - James turned around, hopeful that Slughorn would start laughing and admit he was joking.
- Tell your friend I wish him the best of luck with this new, blossoming love.
As James went out of the classroom and up into the common room, he deeply regretted not stealing that ampoule of gillyweed and swallowing it whole. That way, he could spend the rest of his days in the black lake with the merpeople. I bet amortentia wouldn't smell like anything down there, he thought.
For the rest of the week, James spent every waking hour trying to not think about what Slughorn said and what it meant, and he was succeeding. He kept himself busy with classes, Quidditch and even homework. He also did his absolute best to avoid everyone. He ate before anyone else and made sure he was far away from the great hall by the time he knew Y/N and the rest of the Marauders would go down to eat. In classes, he sat very distant and left early. He even pulled some pranks he didn't even feel like pulling on Filch to get detention in the nights he couldn't schedule Quidditch practices. He walked the halls in the invisibility cloak. Anything to keep his thoughts away from the big fire alarm going off inside his head. The only problem was that he missed Y/N in all of those moments. When he was doing homework, he missed the sound of Y/N's pen scratching the parchment next to him. While he ate, he missed the warmth of her body next to his, the satisfaction humming while she ate her pie . He missed laying down together after homework. He missed seeing her on the stands at practice. He even realized that the real fun in pranks wasn't the actual thing, but to see Y/N laughing hysterically afterwards. To put it quite simply, it felt like he was sleep walking all the time. He couldn’t go on avoiding her forever, but what he was gonna do, he had positively no idea.
Until Friday night.
It was late, and he had been in detention. Filch had made him write “I shall not turn the school’s trophies into pigeons” a hundred times, and his hand was hurting from all the repetitive writing. Normally, he would have complained, but this time, he was glad for the distraction. Enjoying detention, he thought bitterly while crossing the fat lady, I must be really going mad. His grouchy thoughts were interrupted by a sound. It sounded like.. crying. Or better yet, it sounded like someone was sobbing their heart out. He looked around the empty common room, but didn’t see anyone. He followed the sound to the sofa near the fireplace, where he and Y/N always rest after studying. Before you turned into a chicken.
Y/N was laid on the sofa, her face buried in a cushion, her whole body shaking with her sobs. James was flooded with panic.
- Y/N, baby, what happened? - he cooed, his voice altered with anxiety. Y/N never cried, except when something very serious happened.
Y/N looked up like she thought she was seeing visions.
- Jamie? - her voice was soft and shaky, her eyes were puffy and bloodshot red, like she had been crying for multiple hours. The hurt on her eyes broke James’ heart in a thousand pieces.
His mind raced with possibilities: maybe someone was mean to her? Maybe someone died? Maybe she was hurt? The thought of her being in pain panicked him even further. He sat down and pushed her into his lap, laying her head on his shoulder.
- Are you hurt, baby? Where does it hurt? Please, tell me.
She cried violently on his shoulder. He inspected her legs for bruises, but she seemed well physically.
- Y/N, tell me what’s wrong, I can’t stand to see you like this - he begged. - Did someone hurt you?
The question seemed to trigger something on the girl, because suddenly she was on her feet, out of his arms.
- Did someone hurt me? Seriously? - the tears streamed down her face, but her eyes glimmered with something new: anger.
James was confused, to say the least. He noticed that she was wearing one of his old sweaters, one that had vanished from his suitcase a few weeks ago.
- Baby...- he begged some more.
She looked as if he had twisted a knife on her wound.
- Don’t you dare “baby” me, James. Not after ignoring me like the plague for a whole week!
Oh. Oh. James had been so involved with his own confusion regarding the amortentia incident that he forgot almost completely that Y/N didn’t know what he was doing, or why. She was crying because he hurt her feelings. That was a lot worse than if she was crying because of another person: he could’ve gone out to kick said jerk’s ass. But if he hurt her, what was he supposed to do? Punch himself?
-Y/N - he cooed, apologetically. - Y/N, I…
She showed him her palm, urging him to stop talking.
- You don’t have to explain wanting to be away from me. I’m sure you had your reasons. But you could have at least told me that you wanted some space from me, or something, because I’ve been miserable, and…
She thought he wanted space from her. The sorrowful shaky breath that escaped her lips mid-sentence threw him over the edge.
- No, no, no… - he repeated while pushing her back into his lap - Oh my god, Y/N, no…
He caressed her hair while she sobbed violently on his shoulder. Her fists were closed tightly on his shirt, her tears dampened his neck, and he couldn’t recall the last time his heart ached this badly.
- Did I do something? Did I bother you? I’m so sorry.. - she whispered softly, like she was voicing what had been repeating in her head over and over again during the last few days. Her words were laced with anger, resentment, but, above all, hurt. He wanted to double over in pain.
- Listen - James lifted her chin up gently, forcing her to look into his eyes. - I’m the one who’s sorry.
The tears kept coming, but she was listening.
- I shouldn’t have avoided you last week, and it’s not your fault, okay? It’s my fault. I’m the one who got scared.
She looked confused.
- Scared? Of me?
James would have to confess what happened at Slughorn’s class. He had given zero thought about his messy feelings, and even though unraveling them in front of Y/N scared him endlessly, he would have to do it, because he could never let her think that he wanted space from her. That he wanted anything but to be close to her, at all times, if he could.
- Please - she asked, incisively, noticing his wariness. - Tell me.
He took a deep breath, feeling vulnerable, raw. As if he would undress himself fully in front of her.
- Remember Slughorn’s class about amortentia? - Y/N nodded, encouraging him to move on - He asked me to smell it, right, and I…
- You said it smelled like broom polisher.
- Well, yes. But I lied. - he decided to avert his gaze to the ceiling, or else he would never talk. - It was caramel pie and vanilla cream. So, I smelled… you.
Silence. A moment, two. He couldn’t muster the courage to look at the girl. He felt her hand grazing his cheek, urging him to look at her..
- Jamie… - She looked wonderstruck, and his heart seemed like it wanted out of his chest - Really?
- Really.
James was sure he’d never seen something as beautiful as Y/N after his response. She was smiling the biggest, most shiny smile he had ever seen on her face. Her eyes shined like gemstones at him, so soft he wanted to cry.
- Do you want to know what I smelled? - she asked, soft as a feather.
His heart somersaulted when she brought her face closer to the side of his neck. She whispered on his ear:
- I smelled… - She sniffed his neck once - Sandalwood - another sniff, followed by a chuckle - Broomstick polisher…
She distanced herself, looking deep into his eyes.
- And homework parchment. And fireplace naps. And figgy pudding.
His heart was hammering against his ribcage. Y/N smelled him. On the amortentia potion. Him.
- Y/N - James whispered, all warm and fuzzy on the inside. - Really?
She didn’t answer, just grabbed his hand, the warmth and softness of her skin overwhelming his senses. Placed his hand on top of the point of her chest where her heart was. Through the fabric of his shirt, he could feel her heart beating faster than a hummingbird's. She never unglued her soft eyes from his.
She likes him. Suddenly, all the thoughts he had been avoiding throughout the week came crashing down on him, like a dam.
James was an affectionate friend. He liked physical touch. But he never liked it half as much as he did with her. James was a thoughtful friend. He remembered things about his friends. But he remembered every single thing about her. He was a sensitive friend. He hated to see his friends suffering. But every time he saw her cry, it was like his heart was being crushed. James was an attentive friend. He loved spending time with friends. But when he was away from her, he couldn’t even function properly, like he was missing one half of him. Y/N is his best friend. But she is more, too. He loves her. But there’s something else: he is in love. Amortentia never lies, after all.
When his hands tangled on Y/N’s hair, he smelled vanilla cream. When he kissed Y/N’s lips, he tasted caramel pie.
#james potter x reader#james potter imagine#james potter fluff#amortentia#the marauders x reader#the marauders era#the marauders#fluff#harry potter imagine
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WE'RE... WHAT?? ‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅
| percy jackson x popstar au
| au masterlist ☽
summary:
warnings: swearing and i think thats just about it!
a/n: part two of the series is out! im procrastinating the shit out of all my other requests so im not ignoring any of you btw!! lets all collectively ignore the fact that gracie like a post that has a lyric from her song (also damn im really just smashing out these fics)
"y/n has officially flitted off to boston!" clarisse announces suddenly from chris's lap.
"huh?" grover's head snaps up. "what do you mean?"
"y/n l/n, she's come to boston for her concerts," clarisse says showing her phone screen.
"you have got to be shitting me," chris says. "this is going to end terribly. seriously? here? boston? percy's gonna shit himself."
"oh really why would you think that?" clarisse drawls. "it's not like they don't like each other, they're like besties!"
"and y'know to make things worse y/n's setlist has been posted for months so we legit could've avoided her," chris sighs.
"yeah well, next time you see percy and he comes home grumbling about a business meeting in boston you deal with it then," grover argues.
"okay all of you shut it, percy's coming inside with luke so shhh," clarisse snaps.
"shh about what?" luke asks settling down on the couch next to grover.
"you'll never believe who's in boston!" grover sing songs. it doesn't take luke very long to work out who and his eyes widen in realisation
"no."
"yes."
"well shit."
"yep."
"we're in for a show."
☾. ⋅
percyjackson
liked by underovergrover, chris.rodriguez, lukecastellan, clarisse.la.rue, the.annabethchase and 1, 402, 385 others
percyjackson hello boston! one non-reschedulable meeting later and here we are...
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underovergrover i expect full compensation for making those pizzas WHICH YOU TOOK CREDIT FOR
percyjackson YOU DID NOT! I MADE HALF OF THOSE - MINE WERE BETTER
clarisse.la.rue no they weren't
percyjackson 🖕🏼
user1 ugh im in love
user2 omggg he's in boston!! so is y/n l/n!! are they following each other around?
user3 PLS I WOULD DIE MAKE THIS A THING
user4 i wonder if he's going to a concert here?? 😏
user5 does anyone else find it weird how his entire friend group follows him around?? no just me? they're just a huge freak show
user6 booooo we dont like haters here
user7 y/n l/n and percy neeeeed to happen rnnnn
user8 YES YES YES
lukecastellan im so ready to be done with this shit and go home
theannabethchase aww is someone feeling homesick?
lukecastellan yes obviously
user8 i. love. him.
☾. ⋅
"see i told you this would happen!" grover screeches, running away from percy who is threatening to castrate him if he doesn't get his phone back.
"i don't care! just give me the damn thing back!"
percy had groaned for two straight minutes when he found out that y/n was in boston this weekend - he had also face planted onto the couch and used some extremely obscene words.
"if it helps at least you'll be leaving on sunday," chris had offered in the midst of his crisis. it didn't help.
so now when grover trips over a fallen pillow - which may or may not be from percy's tantrum but we don't talk about that - and percy wrenches the phone from him a loud - and might grover add overtly girly - scream.
"WHAT THE FUCK? NO! NO NO NO NO!"
his screen is on the article grover had opened with really poorly photoshopped images of percy and y/n walking together. every gossip site/blog has swarmed the photos and circulated them sending the internet into a spiral.
"im fucking done with this grover," percy groans flopping onto the couch. "its a good thing we're leaving tomorrow - we'll be back in new york thats a huge ass city i wont see y/n there again and i can just go into hibernation, let all the rumours die down and be done with this whole shit show."
if only right....
☾. ⋅
☾. ⋅
yn.official
liked by sabrinacarpenter, lia.mandel, gracieabrams and 932, 841 others
yn.official feel like maybe i might go to boston! you were the best audience and im honoured to have performed for you these past two nights! heading home now to rest and recharge for the final shows in new york
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lia.mandel yayy you're finally coming home i missed you 🥺
yn.official bitch please its been like a week
lia.mandel and every second of it has been torture
user1 MOTHERRRR
user2 i think i nearly fainted when she came up on stage i was so happy i coulda died right then-
user3 the lyric makes me so happyyy
user4 ikrr y/n is like the queen of lyrics and the way she sneakily adds them into her posts 🤭
user5 WERE YOU WITH PERCY JACKSON THIS WEEKEND?? 🤨 I NEED TO KNOW
user6 y/n and percy are my dream celebrity ship
user7 they'd be the biggest power couple in history
user8 can you hard launch with percy plss?? i dont care if its fake i just need content to feed my delusions!
☾. ⋅
lia's soft snores fill the plane aggravating the hell out of you. usually you'd find the way she curled up in a ball underneath a blanket and snored quietly to be adorable. but since you're tired, just finished performing a concert and there's a problem with the jet, its grating on your nerves.
you had also been scrolling on twitter, instagram and pinterest, curled up underneath a matching blanket urging something to catch your attention while whatever work was being done on the plane happened.
unfortunately for you the thing that did catch your attention was the dozens of very clearly photoshopped pictures of you and percy walking together on a quiet street in boston.
no way in hell thats real. for one; ew and two; percy was only here for the weekend you were here for the week and you would've had no time to go out in between concerts.
eventually you doze off not realising you're in the air until you're ears pop waking you up to lia grinning mischievously.
"what asshole?"
"you're adorable when you wake up, you know that right?"
"yes i know."
"seriously the cutest human on the planet."
"what do you want lia?"
"a gossip podcast has picked up the subject of you and percy jackson. and the host is saying shit about you."
your eyes widen for a moment. "oh my god what? wow its almost as if i don't care!" ypu give lia a blank look. "this happens every three months lia, i do something and people either love it or hate it. thats the way it goes."
"yeah but this is PERCY JACKSON Y/N! he's gorgeousness personified."
"ugh can i go back to sleep? you can fangirl to me tomorrow when im in bed and pretending to listen."
"im offended." she leans over to place a kiss on your head. "but sleep tight babes, we land in like forty minutes."
shutting your eyes again you drift back to sleep.
only when you wake up do you realise you dreamed of percy...
TAGLIST‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ [if you're name is white it mean i couldn't tag you] @lauptimist, @itzmeme, @mariaaaaaahhhh, @paankhaleyaar, @maybxlle, @lara20aral, @cxp1d, @user-3113s-blog, @pleasingregulus, @avihashearts4lix, @inlovewithmorales, @brokecollegebitch, [if you want to be added just let me know!]
#percy x reader#percy jackson x you#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson x y/n#percy x y/n#percy x you#percy jackson#percy jackson fanfic#percy jackson fic#fanfic#fanfiction#emma writes ₊˚⊹⋆#percy x popstar au ₊ ⊹
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Comatose
This is an Evan Buckley imagine based on an Anon request, I hope you all like it. Thank you all for the rush of requests they are amazing and I am so pumped to try and work through them as quickly as I can. Enjoy.
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911 Masterlist
Summary: A car accident leaves (Y/n), Evan and their unborn child in jeopardy and places them both in a coma.
Enjoy.
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"You know we're supposed to be going out, right? Not back to bed,"
A smile wormed its way onto (Y/n)'s lips when she heard Evan's teasing voice and felt his hand move to grip her thigh. He gave her a squeeze and a little pinch just to watch her leg jerk before he went back to holding the steering wheel.
"Wake me up when we get there," She mused, sinking further down in her seat with her head lolled on the seatbelt.
"Oh no, baby, you're not getting a power nap right now." Evan reached over to turn up the radio, grinning when his wife mumbled something incoherent as she moved to grab his hand. He knew if she went to sleep, he would have a hard time waking her up when they arrived to meet Maddie at the restaurant for dinner. She had to stay awake or he would end up leaving her to sleep in the car and then she really wouldn't thank him.
He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing the back of her hand as she twisted in her seat. (Y/n) didn't open her eyes, but they both knew the radio was going to keep her awake, she couldn't sleep with any loud noise in the background. The most she was going to get was resting her eyes before they arrived and she would have to wake up for dinner.
"I'm tired,"
"Yeah, I think having a bath at five in the morning might have something to do with that."
"Your child only sleeps when I take a bath."
(Y/n) brushed her thumb over Evan's lips that parted to let out a laugh at her response. When she couldn't sleep this morning, taking a bath had been the only thing (Y/n) could think of doing to relieve her discomfort and try to settle down both her and the baby. The baby seemed to calm down when she laid in the bath. The water soothed her aching back and made the baby within her calm down and stop kicking and fidgeting.
"Oh, so when they play up they're my child, right?"
"Yes, Buckley, this kid has your hyperactiveness. I wanted to sleep, your child didn't."
That made Evan smile. Their baby wasn't even born yet and they were automatically his child when they did something wrong. He could understand though, he had seen the discomfort written across (Y/n)'s face these last two months. And he had momentairily panicked this morning when he woke up alone until he wandered to the bathroom and found his wife laid out in the bath, finally settled and feeling at peace as the baby had gone back to sleep.
"You can sleep as much as you want next month, I promise." He kissed her palm before she coiled her arms around her bump and shimmied around again.
They only had one more month to wait, and then Evan would be on annual leave and their baby would be born. Evan would take all the late nights he could get so (Y/n) could catch up on the sleep she had lost in these last few months.
She had the baby to herself right now and Evan was desperate for them to be born so he could snatch them away and finally see his baby. He wanted them in his arms and wriggling on his chest, he wanted to physically see and hold them instead of sitting around waiting in agony for the time to pass by.
"Fuck!"
Evan slammed on the brakes but it didn't do any good. His fingers deadlocked around the steering wheel, his elbows locked and his arms straightened out like rulers to press himself back into the seat.
The tyre on the car in front of them had burst. Evan couldn't swerve into the other lane unless he wanted to crash into the cars beside him and he couldn't swerve to the right and risk hitting the middle barrier. All he could do was brake and pray the cars behind wouldn't crush them.
A burning scream ricketed against the back of (Y/n)'s throat and teeth. She could feel her body tensing and pulling inwards and she scraped her shoes down against the floor to try and steady herself and push back in the seat as if she was reaching for an imaginary brake. Her hand tightened around the door handle and her free hand reached out to hold the dashboard when she heard Evan make a noise between a growl and a scream.
Her head collided with the window and the shock caused static to pound through her ears. Nothing but white noise filtered through (Y/n)'s head and she couldn't concentrate or feel anything but the way the car was shaking and how every muscle tensed to the point they were going to snap.
"Baby? Baby, you okay? Shit, talk to me please… (Y/n) please-" Evan's ramblings came to a pause when he felt (Y/n)'s hand leave the dashboard and swat out at her side to try and reach for him. Her throat was burning, the only noise she knew she could make would be to scream and that wouldn't help Evan right now.
She curled her trembling fingers around his wrist and started to tug on his arm to try and let him know she could hear him and that she was still somewhat awake and alert.
Her fingers stayed curled around his wrist and she reached her other hand out for him when he unclipped his belt and leaned across the gear stick to inch closer to her. His hands cupped her face and tilted her head up so he could rest their foreheads together. The feeling of his thumbs tracing up and down her cheeks calmed (Y/n) enough for her to finally open her eyes.
The vision of her husband blurred in front of her, he looked as if he had a halo of light glowing around him. The concern was evident in his eyes that were blown wide and glossy like wet marbles and she could see his eyes raking her up and down, scouting for injuries.
"We gotta get out the car, baby. We're in the middle of the motorway,"
He wanted to find his phone but he couldn't find the will power to move just yet. His whole body was raked with tremors coursing through him making him jerk back and forth in his seat and his phone was no longer clipped on the dashboard. It had fallen during the crash, it would probably be in the footwell somewhere or even behind the gas pedals.
They weren't the only people on the motorway or the only ones caught up in this crash. 911 would be hyjacked by hundreds of people ringing in to let them know there had been a crash so Evan didn't have to call and block up their lines any further.
They couldn't stay in the car.
They had crashed and they were still right in the centre of the dilemma. Evan knew the safest thing to do if they could both walk and get out would be to go on the side of the motorway and wait for the emergency services. Sitting in the car made them targets in case anyone else was speeding down and couldn't stop in time. People could easily crash into them, they needed to move.
"Baby are you okay?"
"Hm." She felt shaky, fueled with adrenaline and her neck was throbbing like it had been broken from whiplash, but she was okay.
"Let's get you out-"
(Y/n) screamed. She couldn't help it. A car pummelled into the back of their car, sending them violently twisting to the right and crashing forward into the two cars that had come to a halt in front of them.
Evan had taken his seatbelt off; he had the intention of getting out the car. With nothing to pin him to the seat, Evan's body slammed forward until his head smashed into the passenger window. His arms bent awkwardly around (Y/n) as his upper body fell onto her lap and his legs got caught between the door and the steering wheel like he was laying down to take a nap.
When the back of his head thrust back into the window, Evan suddenly stopped screaming and he slumped down, going motionless.
***
"Alright, you all know the drill. Major pile up in the middle of the freeway, if anyone can walk for help direct them to the paramedics. Shout out if you need to cut someone out the car, find anyone stuck and get them free. Chimney you're with me, Eddie go with Hen."
Bobby strapped on his helmet and nodded at his team but his eyes frowned when he looked over at Eddie.
They had parked up on the hard shoulder a few feet away from the crash since the ambulances needed to get round and them be closer to the scene so they could drive ahead and get out of the mess. At least ten cars had piled up right at the front of the chaos and other cars had swerved to awkward stops and parked up to try and help assist anyone they could. For the last seven miles, the truck had to drive on the hard shoulder because the motorway was jam packed with people unable to move anywhere.
"Eddie, what's up?"
"Cap, the blue ford…" Something stirred in Eddie's chest and his fingers curled tighter around his helmet when he scanned his eyes over the mess. Right at the front of the pile up near the middle barrier was a navy blue ford that looked beat up and bashed about. But Eddie knew (Y/n) had a car just like that and he knew Evan was off work today and tomorrow.
"What about it?"
"It's Buck!" Eddie dropped his helmet and set off into a sprint. He didn't need to see the number plate; his gut was telling him that either Evan, (Y/n) or both of them were in that car. He couldn't kick the dread that settled in the pit of his stomach or the adrenaline that fueled his system.
Eddie could hear Bobby shouting for back up and he knew his Captain wasn't far behind him, weaving through the mess to reach Evan's car. Eddie read the number plate when he was a few feet away and he found himself nodding; that was (Y/n)'s car. Was she in there? Was it just Evan? Were they both in this mess? A pregnant woman in a car crash was never a good thing.
"Buck! Buck, we're here- I need the wrench!" Eddie jammed his elbow into the window and tried in vain to wiggle the door handle but it was locked tight.
His hands stretched out and snatched the wrench that Bobby held out to him as he was followed by Hen with a medic bag on her shoulder. Chimney followed close behind with another medic from a different station, both of them carrying back boards upon Bobby's careful instruction.
The wrench jammed between the metal and Eddie used all his strength to prize the door open, stumbling back when the lock finally released and he could get inside.
Eddie went down on his knees, slumping beside the door as Hen curved around beside him to lean in.
They didn't like what they saw.
Once the door was open, it left (Y/n) to slump to the left towards the open space. She was being held up by her seatbelt that stopped her from flopping down onto Eddie's lap. Her hair fanned in fornt of her face like curtains shielding her from their perceptive eyes, but what scared them more was Evan.
He was laid out, his legs a tangled mess against the steering wheel and the driver's seat. His body was slumped onto (Y/n)'s thighs, his head resting motionless on (Y/n)'s chest with one arm hanging down by the seat and the other arm slumped on his waist. He was obscuring their view of (Y/n), they couldn't see if she had any injuries below the neck because Evan was completely covering her.
Even unconscious, it looked like he was trying to protect her.
From the off, Eddie could see a wound on the back of Evan's head that had already spilled blood through his curls and left a small slither down the back of his neck like a child had drawn a jagged line with a marker. Around the wound there was some swelling but they would need to send him for a scan to check if he had any cranial damage or brain swelling. The possibilities were creating a long, worrisome list of internal injuries Evan could have.
Pushing up on his toes, Eddie tried to control the trembling in his hands as he pressed them to either side of Evan's neck. He felt his pulse, checked for any swelling around his neck and looked at his chest to see his breathing.
"I've got a strong pulse, breathing is good but he could have nerve damage; look at his legs."
Evan's vitals were good, they were very good considering the predicament he was in but Eddie didn't like how he was laid. Evan could have done a lot of damage to his neck, he could have broken his spine or dislocated a column in his spine. And his legs were curled and skewed in the driver's seat which upon first glance, could be nothing scary. It could just be the way he had fallen during the accident, or it could indicate that Evan had nerve damage and he could have broken or damaged his legs.
"We need to move him. He's laid on (Y/n), he could be crushing the baby or hiding her injuries, either way he's adding extra pressure she doesn't need." Hen handed Eddie a neck brace for Evan while she slipped one around (Y/n)'s neck.
She could feel (Y/n)'s pulse and was trying to take her blood pressure, but Evan was obscuring their vision. They couldn't see (Y/n)'s stomach which Evan was clearly lying on and applying pressure to by accident. He could be crushing her lungs or cutting off the baby's blood supply with how he was laid and (Y/n) could have serious injuries that Evan was partially blocking. He had to be moved.
"Her BP's way too low and pulse is fluctuating but I can't check on the fetus yet. Bobby we need to get Buck out, now."
"Alright, I'll climb in the back and ease him over to you Eddie, Chim get ready to help get him out and on the back board."
The driver's side was completely blocked by another car and the middle barrier, they couldn't get Evan out that side which would have been easier than lifting him over (Y/n). But they had to work with what they had.
Bobby rammed the back door open and clambered inside, gripping the two front seats so he could cramp himself into the smallest shape possible and climb into the driver's seat. He did his best to avoid Evan's legs and slide himself down into the footwell near the gas pedals. Once he was turned around with his lower hips and bum pressed into the steering wheel, Bobby looked over Evan's legs.
How were they going to do this?
Usually they would get the back board in the car with them and clip Evan onto it, then lift him out. (Y/n) being here complicated things and made that impossible. They couldn't rest the board on or over her to get Evan on and they had to move him first.
He patted down Evan's legs and checked for any external injuries, any bleeding or broken bones and thankfully found none.
He gently twisted Evan's legs back round and stretched them out, laying him flat on his back as Eddie helped turn his upper chest on (Y/n)'s lap so he was fully straight.
"On three, lift him and start easing him out but go slow, I need to lean over (Y/n) without hurting either of them."
Bobby curled his hands beneath Evan's knees, pushed his shoulders up into the roof and lifted at the same time Eddie hooked his hands under Evan's arms and pulled him up. Eddie shuffled backwards and Chimney hurried forward to support Evan's lower back and he nodded at Bobby and took Evan's knees from him. It would be easier to keep Bobby there in the car to get (Y/n) out.
They eased Evan down onto the back board and pulled the straps over him to keep him in place.
"Get him in the ambulance but don't go until we've got (Y/n) out," Eddie wasn't sure where the authority in his voice came from but he didn't have time to care. He didn't want Evan leaving without (Y/n) in case someone messed up and took him to the wrong hospital or they couldn't find him once they got there. He needed to travel at the same time as (Y/n), preferably in the same ambulance so they could take them both together and the team could watch over them both.
Chimney and the other medic started to make their way towards the 118 ambulance, Evan still unconscious between them. They could give him fluids, get him on oxygen and check his vitals while they waited for (Y/n) and the rest of the team to join them.
"Eddie, we've got a problem," Hen looked back at him before she darted her eyes down to (Y/n). "Buck was hiding an injury from us."
Eddie knelt back down beside (Y/n) while Bobby sat down in the driver's seat and Hen leaned inside the car.
Blood was pooling between (Y/n)'s thighs and into the seat. She was haemorrhaging, possibly for a few seconds, possibly for a while and Evan had been laid on top of her, keeping it from them. But he also might have stemmed the bleeding with his weight and now he was gone, the bleeding could get worse.
Reaching into the medic bag, Eddie found a stethoscope and hurriedly pressed it to (Y/n)'s stomach. After a few seconds, he moved it over to her right side, then an inch lower before he leaned forward and sighed.
"There's a heartbeat, but it's low." His hands trailed along (Y/n)'s arms and down her legs, checking for any breaks which he didn't find. He then pressed his hands to (Y/n)'s upper chest, wincing when he felt her ribs. Two, possibly three, were damaged on her right side.
But when Eddie rolled up her shirt so he could check her stomach, he felt the way Hen tensed beside him and Bobby's eyes widened as he leaned forward.
"Skin is flushed and warm, she's bleeding internally, the baby might be too. Page the hospital, she has to go now."
(Y/n)'s abdomen was discoloured and dark, blood was pooling beneath the surface of her skin and her lower stomach was very warm and soft to the touch. She was bleeding both internally and externally, all around her abdomen which meant there was likely bleeding in the womb and around the baby. They needed to move her now before they lost the fetal heartbeat and someone would have to tell Evan he'd lost his child.
Hen placed the fluids bag on her shoulder and kept the IV line clear that she had taped into the back of (Y/n)'s hand to give her a wide stream. She held (Y/n) beneath her arms while Eddie held her legs and Bobby leaned over for added support, all nodding at each other to move.
A shudder ran down Eddie's spine once they laid (Y/n) down on the second backboard. The passenger seat was dark crimson instead of grey. She had been bleeding out for some time.
"This is Captain Nash to dispatch, alert the hospital that we are bringing in two casualties with severe concussions and need doctors on standby. One is a pregnant female, approximately thirty-five weeks, excessive blood loss and internal bleeding."
***
Terror ransacked through Evan's body when his brain seemed to switch on and his eyes opened. It took a few tries to get his vision to clear from a fuzzy wet painting into a proper, formed image.
Where was he? What happened? why was he laid down and aching all over like he had broken every bone in his body?
He didn't realise he was moving until he managed to swat a hand out and grab the oxygen mask strapped against his mouth and nose. The forceful flow of oxygen burned his lungs and made the back of his throat feel raw like sandpaper.
Evan's lips parted and his eyes widened in terror when he touched his nose and suddenly realised there was a tube taped inside his nose that went down his throat. Without a second thought, Evan tore the tape from beneath his nose, curled his fist around the cream tube and yanked. His tongue pressed out against his parted lips and he gagged, coughing violently onto his lap before he snorted when the long tube finally came out of his throat and nose.
He tossed it onto the floor and pushed himself up into a sitting position just as a pair of familiar hands found his shoulders and held onto him.
"Help!" Evan didn't know why that was the first word to leave his lips. He wasn't sure what sort of help he was asking for or why, but it was all he could think to say when Bobby perched down on the edge of the bed and appeared in front of him like a guardian angel.
"Buck, calm down. Hey, you're alright it's okay. You're in the hospital," Bobby's voice was soft, slow and soothing and he kept squeezing Evan's shoulders until the bout of panic started to subside.
His shoulders stopped quaking and his chest calmed down to a more normal breathing pattern instead of excessive, shallow breaths.
He darted his eyes around the room he was in. Bobby was sat on the bed but his rosary beads were on the chair beside the bed and his jacket was on the floor. Evan recognised a bag near the door, it was his duffle bag. Someone had brought him some things from home. How long had he been in here? How many hours had he been unconscious?
He had an IV drip taped into the back of his left hand and a heartbeat monitor clipped to his right finger which he threw on the floor as well. He was wearing an uncomfortable, itchy hospital gown.
The car.
He had been driving when a crash happened.
He was with (Y/n).
"(Y/n)! (Y/n), where is she? Bobby where is she?!" His hands reached out to clamp down on Bobby's forearms and he gave him a shove. Evan tried to swing his legs over the side of the bed but Bobby moved faster and pushed him back into the bed.
"Buck everything's okay-"
"Where's my wife?!"
"Sit down and I'll tell you." Bobby matched his tone of voice and raised his brows, digging his hands forcefully into Evan's shoulders until he finally relented and stopped fighting against him.
Evan couldn't go running round the hospital like a headless chicken in search of answers. Bobby had all the answers Evan was looking for and he would happily tell him if he would just calm down enough to listen. There was no need for him to panic, he wasn't sat here alone, he had Bobby here with him to talk him through everything.
"We arrived on scene and brought you both to the hospital, you had a concussion and swelling on the brain. The doctors put you in an induced coma to let your brain heal and for the swelling to go down. You've been out for three days, but you should be okay now. You've broken two ribs and dislocated your shoulder which they put back in place."
As soon as they arrived, Evan went up for an MRI and they found no bleeding in his brain but his brain had started to swell. They placed him in a coma to relieve the pressure and let him recover and it worked. His scan this morning showed his brain was a lot better and was functioning normally so they let him slowly come out of the coma this afternoon.
His shoulder had been put back in place and he had a bandage around his chest for the two ribs he had broken. Evan would be okay as long as he took things easy.
"Three days?" Fuck. "What about (Y/n) a-and the baby?"
"The placenta ruptured and caused a lot of blood loss, (Y/n) went straight for a C-section when you both arrived. They put her in a coma too after she flatlined during surgery. She hasn't woken up yet but she's stable and Eddie has been visiting her every day."
(Y/n) had immediate surgery to remove the baby and sort out the internal bleeding but she went into shock. Her heart stopped for one minute until they shocked her heart. A coma was the best way to let her recover and get blood transfusions and let her heal but they didn't want to bring her out of the coma too soon and cause further shock.
No one wanted her to be alone. Hen, Chimney and Eddie had done shifts to sit with her and keep an eye on her while Bobby and Athena rotated staying with Evan. They made sure neither one was ever alone and updated each other so everyone was in the loop.
"The baby?" A broken sound followed Evan's voice as his shoulders started to shake and his body hunched over. This didn't sound good to him. His wife was still in a coma, his baby had been born a month early and both of them had gone through extreme shock and trauma.
"You have a beautiful little girl. She's down in the neonatal unit, she's healthy and Maddie had stayed with her every day."
"I wanna see them."
Once the doctor cleared Evan to move and he was dressed in grey sweatpants and a matching hoodie, Evan was hobbling down the corridor with Bobby guiding him towards his daughter. He walked slightly hunched over to ease the ache in his chest and the throbbing in his shoulder and his legs felt like jelly about to come apart beneath him, but he forced himself to keep walking.
The two most important people in his life needed him; and he hadn't even met one of them yet.
Evan couldn't breathe. He paused in the doorway, clinging onto the door for dear life when his eyes locked on his sister. Maddie was stood in front of one of the incubators, a story book by her side and her hand stretched inside the incubator towards her niece.
She turned immediately when she heard a soft cry behind her. Tears flushed her face and she bolted forward, reaching her arms out just in time for Evan to fall into her arms so she could hold him up. His face tucked into her neck, his hands scrunched up her shirt in his fists and Bobby reached out to grab his torso so he didn't fully collapse onto Maddie or the floor.
"I'm so glad you're awake," Maddie whispered quietly, reaching a hand up to cup Evan's face as she grinned at him through tears. "Somebody wants to meet you."
She moved her hands to Evan's shoulders and with Bobby's help, they both guided his stumbling form over to a chair and eased him down before he collapsed into a heap on the floor.
Evan rubbed the base of his hands against his eyes to try and make the stinging pain go away and force the tears back so he could still see. He wanted a clear view of his daughter once she was placed in his arms.
It was almost like a wave of magic had washed over him when a tiny form was placed into the crook of his elbow. Evan curled his left hand into a fist to tense his arm and stop himself from shaking, he didn't want his daughter rattling in his arms and becoming afraid. He smoothed his index finger over her cheek, smiling through tears when he realised what she was wearing.
Maddie must have been to their apartment and gotten the hospital bag as well as pack a few things for Evan too. His daughter was wearing the pale cream baby grow Evan had picked out which said 'Daddy's Princess' on the front in golden letters. It looked a little big on her, but she was beautiful.
"And y-you're sure she's okay?" It didn't quite ring true for Evan that he had been in a coma, his wife was still in one and yet here was his precious little girl, perfectly fine, snoozing in his arms.
He knew he was lucky to have her here at all, but to see her look so perfect without any signs of injury or damage seemed too good to be true.
"She just needs a name,"
Maddie bent down on her knees and rested a hand on Evan's knee, staring up at him through tears. It felt weird to keep calling her 'little girl' or 'little lady' as Chimney had come to refer to her as. She needed a name but no one knew if Evan and (Y/n) had agreed on any names or not. Her ID bracelet said Baby Buckley which was endearing, but it wasn't a name.
A smile worked its way onto Evan's lips and he let out a breathless laugh while he continued to brush his finger against his daughter's cheek. They had names picked out and agreed on two months ago.
They decided to keep the gender a surprise, but they had agreed on a name for a boy and one for a girl.
"Madeline… after the person who raised me."
***
"Hi baby," Reaching his hands out, Evan took (Y/n)'s hand and interlocked his fingers with hers, bringing her hand up to rest against his lips. He ran his left hand up and down her arm, gliding his fingers over her skin in a way he knew would have tickled her if she were awake.
His shoulders hunched forward and he sat on the very edge of the chair until his knees were tucked beneath the bed like he was sat at the dining table.
The back of Evan's head was killing him, he felt like he had a thunderstorm taking place in his skull that was pounding to get out. There was a large square plaster stuck on the back of his head from the wound he received and he knew they had shaved part of his head to stitch it back up. When they got discharged he would need a buzz cut to grow his hair properly again.
Evan knew (Y/n) didn't like it when he shaved his hair.
"We uh, we've both been asleep for three days, it means you've finally gotten some rest though." He spoke quietly even though it was only the two of them in the room and his lips meshed against the back of (Y/n)'s hand.
She didn't look unwell from this angle.
She had the same tube up her nose as Evan had which he knew was a feeding tube while she was unconscious. She had IVs in and stickers on her chest in case they had to shock her heart again which Evan prayed they wouldn't. But (Y/n) didn't have any cuts or bruises on her face or her arms.
He was desperate to pull up her gown and see the damage to her abdomen, he knew already that it would be bad. Maddie told him what injuries she sustained. Her skin would be discoloured, bruised, stretched. Stitches would litter her abdomen beneath her belly button and healing was going to take a while.
Evan didn't like looking at (Y/n) and seeing a deflated stomach. He had grown so used to seeing the bump and kissing her stomach every morning and when he got back late from shift. He was used to rubbing his nose against her stomach and speaking to their baby. Seeing her stomach deflate like a popped balloon was unusual and Evan didn't like it.
He knew if they had gone through labour naturally, he wouldn't feel so uneasy about seeing her stomach like this. But their daughter had been born without either of them conscious to witness it. They had been so thrilled about having a baby and they missed the best part.
"We've got a baby girl, God, baby she's so gorgeous. She gets it from you. I told the nurse she's called Madeline- please don't wake up and tell me you've changed your mind, it's a bit too late now, I've already told everyone."
Evan had told the nurse so she could get forms ready and change the writing on the incubator from Baby Buckley to Madeline Buckley. And he knew it was just the news to cheer up his sister and thank her for watching over the three of them while they had been unwell. He prayed (Y/n) wasn't going to wake up and change her mind once she saw their daughter because Evan had set her name in stone now.
"So, I need you to wake up soon, baby. Because I don't know what to do with myself. I was supposed to coach you through this and then you'd tell me what to do and how to make everything work. I can't do this without you and I don't want to. I love you."
He brushed a hand against his eyes and took a deep, snuffly breath to try and clear his head.
"Please come back to me. I'm not moving until you do, I'll sit here and talk and talk and talk until you wake up and tell me to shut up."
"Excuse me… sir?"
Evan jolted awake, snapping his eyes open as a gasp burst past his lips like he had been resuscitated. He blinked rapidly, pushing himself up before wincing when a splitting agony coursed up his arm and through his shoulder.
He had fallen asleep. When did he fall asleep? The lights were on in the room and there were no windows leading outside. Evan couldn't tell whether it was still afternoon, if it was night or if he had stayed and slept through the night with (Y/n) and if it was now morning or not. Time had slipped away from him unknowingly.
His left arm ached from where he had been laid, he had fallen asleep in the chair with his head and chest flopped on the bed. And his left hand had still been tangled with (Y/n)'s fingers while his right hand was sprawled out over her thigh.
Evan looked up and tried to twitch his lips into a smile but he couldn't quite manage it. He assumed he had given the nurse a dirty look with the way she raised a brow and took a step away from him.
"Who are you?"
"Uh, who… Buck, I- no I mean, Buckley. Mr Buckley, her husband." Evan waved his hand around and shook his head to liven himself up. He wasn't lying, he was her husband. That was why he was tangled around her like a vine and why no one had kicked him out yet even though visiting hours had long since gone. Evan had come to find that none of the staff had kicked out any of the 118 when they stayed day and night with him, (Y/n) and Madeline.
No one dared.
"Oh, good, just the person we needed."
"Why's that?"
Her smile made Evan relax as he leaned back in the chair and clicked his spine into place. He stretched his arms out in front of him, trying to be careful of his shoulder and when he looked back up and the young nurse, she looked like she was itching with anticipation.
"We'd like to bring her out of the coma now."
#evan buckley x reader#evan buckley imagine#maddie buckley#evan buckley#buck imagine#buck x reader#imagine#911 imagine#pregnant! reader#pregnancy#bobby nash
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Domesticity Is Bliss
Baby Daddy!Peter Maximoff x reader
Yes, I know I've written about this before but shut up. This is my blog and I make the rules.
Anyway, I've been having some thoughts about dilfsilver again, and as the person that basically invented the tag, I may as well post about it.
Mad? Cry about it.
Okay, so as I have discussed previously, Peter as a dad? Fucking, dilf supreme!
He's on the ball with everything, helping out with baby Luna where he can
Being a total sweetheart, especially when he handles the late night feedings.
"I got this one, Sunshine..." Peter murmurs sleepily, shaking his head as he gently urges you back to sleep, and you practically melt as exhaustion drags you back down
And everything for the most part is pretty easy, as you start settling into things.
The occasional visit from family members, providing support, helps too.
Peter's mother definitely brings out the baby pictures lol
"Oh my god-" you giggle, covering your mouth as Magda and Wanda share in your delight.
"I know-!" Peter's mother agrees. "God, he had such a big head as a baby!
"He's still got one-!" Wanda jokes, rolling her eyes playfully.
At the quick jab at her brother, Magda scolds her daughter warningly - not wanting an argument before she turns back to you.
"Consider yourself lucky that Luna didn't get that from him."
You hum, nodding furiously as you rock your daughter gently in your arms, blissfully unaware of how much you and her aunt and grandmother are dissing her father, who is sulking away in the corner.
...after being thoroughly dissed, you then give him some lovin' to make up for his family's "bullying" (teasing).
"Mmm, don't worry, bubba," you murmur, your head resting on his shoulder as you lovingly wrap your arms around him, his mother and sister long gone from your home. "I still love you..."
A beat of silence.
"...massive head and all..."
When Luna's a bit bigger, and you guys have got a routine going strong, you figure that, hey... she's about six weeks old, you guys can handle having the team around for a couple hours, right?
...maybe.
Off the bat, Peter lays down the law:
Alright," Peter starts, rubbing a hand down his face. "A couple ground rules. Number one, what the ladies of Casa de Maximoff say goes, I defer all decision making to them for the foreseeable future. If mama's tired, you'll give her space. If she's hungry, you'll shut up, and she'll eat." He smiles jokingly as he opens up the door of the suite. "...and if Luna wants anything, she gets it," he adds. "Food, sleep... cuddles..." He looks over everyone: Scott, Warren, Jean, Kurt, Jubilee, and Ororo all standing together and getting comfortable. Peter clears his throat, awkwardly standing in the doorway. "...if my little Luna wants the blood of the innocent, then my little Luna gets the blood of the innocent." Scott scoffs, shaking his head. "Dear God, not even two months old, and that baby's already got you whipped, Maximoff..." He teases. Warren makes a whipping sound in agreement, a playful smirk on his face as he folds his wings up. Peter blinks, staring at the two of them in turns. "Yes, Scott. Both my girls have me whipped," Peter corrects, folding his arms in playful rebuttal. "Because I love them."
...yep, he's a keeper.
Things are pretty comfy, honestly. Everyone's quite chill, handing over presents they never got to while Luna takes everone in, not quite used to so many people, obviously.
And after the hecticness of the afternoon and evening, between conversations and snackage, and... feeling like you did before baby Luna came along, finally, once everything's settled, and its just you and Peter awake, the radio playing slowly.
That's when he asks it.
"Hey, babe..." He murmurs softly, one arm wrapped lazily around your shoulder.
You hum softly, snuggling close.
"You wanna get married?"
Well...
...what else can you say to that, but yes?
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50 Shades of Norris…….. & Sainz?
Lando Norris x Fem!Reader x Carlos Sainz
Smut
A/N: Hey guys, I don’t know IF I will post this week because I took a (much needed) vacation and I won’t be back from vacation until next Thursday. I will try to post my drafts I have but there is NO guarantee that I will post after this post. I will definitely TRY. I love you guys, thank you for everything- logansargeantsbabymom
Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!
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I've been dating Lando for two years now, and our relationship is no secret. We're both young, hot-blooded, and passionate, so when we're together, it's electric. We'd been hanging out at my place, talking about movies. I brought up the 50 Shades trilogy, confessing my love for those sexy, kinky movies. Lando, the cheeky brat, claimed he'd never seen them. I just had to fix that immediately.
"Really, babe? You don't know what you're missing. Here, watch with me." I pulled him close, and we settled on the couch, turning on the first movie. As the iconic music started, I snuggled into his side, feeling his strong arm around me.
It didn't take long for the steamy scenes to start, and I felt Lando's arm tighten around me. His hand started roaming, slipping under my shirt to caress my bare back. I sighed, already getting turned on by the movie and his touch. His hand moved lower, cupping my ass and giving it a squeeze. "Ooh, Lando," I moaned, leaning into him.
"This movie is hot, but you're even hotter," he whispered in my ear, nibbling on my lobe. I shivered as his hand slipped under my yoga pants, seeking out my pussy. His fingers found my clit, and he rubbed slow, firm circles, making me squirm and gasp. "Let's make our own movie, baby," he murmured, his breath hot on my neck.
I turned to face him, our lips crashing together in a hungry kiss. My hands moved to his curly hair, tugging gently as our tongues danced. His hand worked its magic on my pussy, and I could feel my juices starting to flow. "I want you now," I whispered against his lips. "Take me, right here on the couch."
Lando's eyes darkened with desire. "Anything for you, baby." He stood, pulling me up with him. Without breaking our kiss, he lifted me, sitting me on the arm of the couch. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. With one smooth motion, he slipped inside me, filling me completely.
We broke our kiss, both of us moaning at the feeling of being connected. I leaned back, supporting myself on the couch as Lando started to thrust. His dick felt amazing, stretching me open and rubbing all the right spots. I dug my heels into his ass, urging him on. "Fuck, yes, Lando," I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders.
He picked up the pace, his hips snapping as he drove into me. The slap of flesh on flesh filled the room, along with our passionate moans. I could feel my orgasm building, the pleasure coiling tight within me. "Cum for me, baby," Lando growled, his eyes burning with desire. "Cum on my cock."
His words sent me over the edge. "Oh, Lando!" I cried out, my body shaking as waves of pleasure washed over me. I clenched around his dick, feeling him thrust a few more times before he stiffened, burying his face in my neck. "Fuck, I'm cumming too," he groaned, filling me with his hot seed.
We stayed like that for a moment, catching our breath. Then, with a soft kiss, Lando gently lifted me and set me back on the couch. I giggled, feeling a bit wobbly, but also satisfied. "That was amazing," I purred, snuggling into his side. "But the movie's not over yet."
Lando grinned, that mischievous look in his eyes. "How about we move to the kitchen? I've got a few ideas inspired by Mr. Grey." I felt a shiver of anticipation as we got up, my yoga pants still around my ankles. Lando spanked my ass playfully, making me giggle as we headed for the kitchen, ready for another round of passionate, kinky sex.
In the kitchen, Lando had me bend over the counter, my breasts squashed against the cold granite. He slipped a hand between my legs, his fingers finding my sensitive clit. "You like this position, baby?" he asked, his breath hot against my neck. "Knowing anyone could walk in and see us?"
"Mmm, yes," I moaned, my eyes fluttering closed as his fingers worked their magic. "It's so dirty and hot." I felt him nuzzle my neck, his teeth scraping gently over my skin. Then, he pulled my hair to the side, exposing my neck. His lips kissed and sucked on the sensitive skin, sending shivers down my spine. "Lando, please," I begged, my hips bucking back against his hand.
"I've got you, baby," he murmured, his fingers never stopping their relentless assault on my clit. "Cum for me. Let me hear how much you love this." His free hand slid up my body, pinching and playing with my nipples. I was so turned on, my body on fire with need. I felt his cock, hard and heavy against my thigh, and I wanted it inside me.
"Lando, please, fuck me," I pleaded, my voice hoarse with need. "I need you now." He didn't need to be told twice. He lined up his cock and thrust into me, filling me completely. I cried out, the sensation sending me over the edge. I came hard around his cock, my body shaking with pleasure. "Fuck, baby, you feel so good," Lando growled, his hands gripping my hips tightly.
He started to move, his hips snapping as he fucked me with deep, powerful strokes. The sound of our flesh slapping together filled the kitchen, along with my shameless moans. "Oh yes, Lando! Right there! Don't stop!" I cried out, my nails digging into the counter. I could feel my juices flowing, coating his cock as he thrust into me again and again.
Lando leaned over me, his chest crushing my back as he reached around to rub my clit. "You're so wet, baby," he growled in my ear. "So fucking tight and perfect." His words sent me spiraling toward another orgasm. "Cum with me, baby," he urged, his hips pounding into me. "Cum on my cock again."
His demand sent me spiraling into ecstasy. "Oh God, Lando, I'm cumming!" I screamed, my body shaking uncontrollably. Lando let out a hoarse cry, his hips stuttering as he filled me with his release. We stayed connected, our breath ragged as we came down from our intense orgasms. "That was incredible," I whispered, turning my head to kiss him softly.
Lando chuckled, nipping at my lower lip. "We're not done yet, baby. I've got something special planned for the bedroom." My heart raced with anticipation as he gently pulled out of me, taking my hand to lead me to the bedroom for another round of mind-blowing sex.
After an intense session in the bedroom, we decided to take a shower together, washing away the sweat and cum. But even under the warm water, our passion didn't cool. The feel of the water on our skin, the steam clouding the glass, it all added to the erotic atmosphere. We soaped each other up, our hands roaming freely, exploring every inch of our slippery bodies.
Lando's cock slid between my ass cheeks, and I pushed back, wanting to feel him inside me again. "You're insatiable, baby," he growled, grabbing my hip to pull me closer. "But I'm not complaining." With a smooth thrust, he slid into my tight hole, making me gasp and grip the shower wall. He started to move, his hands gripping my hips as he slammed into me, the water cascading over us.
"Oh, fuck, Lando!" I cried out, the water pounding on my back as he took me from behind. "Your cock feels so good!" He picked up the pace, his hips a blur as he pounded into me. The shower wall provided little nubs that felt amazing against my sensitive nipples, adding to the pleasure. "Cum for me, baby," Lando grunted, his hands sliding up to grip my shoulders.
I didn't need to be told twice. The combination of the hot water, his thick cock, and his skilled hands sent me spiraling into bliss. "Lando! I'm cumming!" I screamed, my body shaking uncontrollably. Lando joined me, his cock pulsing as he filled my ass with his release. We slumped against each other, the warm water soothing our spent bodies.
As we turned off the shower and stepped out, toweling off, I had a sudden thought. "Lando, did you invite Carlos over today?" I asked, remembering his best friend and fellow Formula 1 driver was supposed to drop by. Lando's eyes went wide. "Shit, I completely forgot! He should be here any minute!"
Sure enough, just as we finished getting dressed, we heard the front door open and close. "Lando, you home, bro?" Carlos called out. Lando and I shared a nervous look, realizing our secret was about to be discovered. We hurried downstairs, only to find Carlos lounging on the couch, his hard cock in his hand!
"Oh, sorry, bro," Lando sputtered, his eyes wide as he took in the scene. "We got, um, carried away." Carlos just grinned, his thick Spanish accent making his voice deep and sexy. "It's okay, my friends. I no mind. In fact, Y/N, maybe you help me with this?" he suggested, stroking his thick cock.
I felt a thrill of desire course through me. Lando and I shared a heated look, and without a word, we moved towards Carlos, ready to indulge in a sexy threesome. "I thought you'd never ask," I purred, dropping to my knees in front of Carlos.
His eyes darkened with desire as I took his cock in my hand, stroking the length slowly. "You like this, Carlos?" I asked, looking up at him through my lashes as I licked the tip of his cock. "Mmm, I've been wanting to taste you." With that, I took him into my mouth, sucking and swirling my tongue.
Carlos groaned, his head falling back as I deep-throated him. "Fuck, Y/N, that's amazing," he breathed, his hands tangling in my hair. I looked up at him, my eyes smoldering as I sucked him off, taking him as deep as I could. Lando moved behind me, lifting my hair away from my neck and kissing the sensitive skin. "You look so hot like this, baby," he murmured, his hands roaming over my body.
"She does, doesn't she?" Carlos agreed, his eyes closing in pleasure. "Such a dirty mouth, taking me in so deep." I moaned, the vibration making Carlos hiss and tug gently on my hair. Lando slipped a hand between my legs, his fingers finding my wet core. "Let's take this to the bedroom," he suggested, his breath hot on my neck.
We stood, moving to the bedroom, never breaking contact. Lando kissed me passionately, his tongue dueling with mine as his fingers worked my clit. Carlos moved behind him, his hands on Lando's hips as he guided his friend's cock to my entrance. With a smooth thrust, Lando slid into me, groaning at the feeling. "Your pussy is so tight, baby," he whispered, his lips trailing down my neck.
"Mmm, and your mouth is so talented, Carlos," I moaned as Carlos replaced Lando's fingers with his mouth, licking and sucking my clit. "Oh, fuck, yes!" I cried out, my body rocking back against Lando, my hands gripping Carlos's hair. They worked together, their cocks sliding in and out of me in a perfect rhythm. I could feel my orgasm building, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter.
"That's it, baby, cum for us," Lando urged, his hands gripping my hips as he pounded into me. "Cum all over Carlos's mouth." His words sent me spiraling into bliss, and I screamed, my body shaking as waves of pleasure washed over me. "Fuck, yes!" Carlos groaned, his mouth never leaving my pussy as he feasted on my juices.
Lando thrust a few more times, then stilled, cumming deep inside me. Carlos moved up, kissing me deeply as he lined up his cock with my pussy. He thrust into me, claiming my well-fucked hole as his own. "Your turn, Lando," he said, his voice rough with desire. "Taste her sweetness."
Lando didn't need to be told twice. He dropped to his knees, his lips and tongue working my clit as Carlos fucked me from behind. "Oh, God, yes!" I cried out, my body bombarded with sensations. Lando's skilled tongue sent me spiraling into another orgasm, my body shaking with pleasure. "That's it, baby, cum again," Carlos urged, his hands gripping my hips tightly as he drove into me.
As I cried out, Lando moved up my body, claiming my mouth in a passionate kiss. I could taste myself on his lips, and it only added to my arousal. Carlos pounded into me, his cock slick with my juices. "Cum with me, Carlos," I whispered, my nails digging into his shoulders. "Let's cum together."
He growled his agreement, his hips snapping as he drove into me. "Fuck, Y/N, you're incredible
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