#but the way they ended it....i'm still wrapping my head around it i think

[lostfracturess]

traces of yesterday's scars — satoru gojo

they say the strongest sorcerer can't be broken. but as your fingers trace the scar that once split him in two, you find that even satoru gojo has his sensitive spots.

You still dream about the moment Satoru was cut in half, the memory haunting you even now—that clean, horizontal slice that had split him perfectly in two, tearing your world apart just as surely as it had torn through him.

Sometimes you wake gasping, the image still vivid behind your eyes.

Now, months later, you lay with your head on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. Your fingers trace the scar that runs across his abdomen, the raised line a constant reminder of how close you came to losing him.

The skin here feels different, rough and uneven and so unlike his other scars. Because this scar tells a different story—one of how death had almost claimed him, how he had nearly been taken from you for good.

You feel him tense slightly as your fingers brush over it, catching the small sharp intake of breath he tries to hide.

"Still hurts?" you ask softly.

"Not hurt exactly," he says, trying to play it casual despite the way his muscles twitch under your fingertips. "More like... muscle memory. Like my body hasn't forgotten what it felt like to be in two pieces."

You follow the scar's path across his abdomen, perfectly straight like a ruler's edge. The mark extends to both sides, wrapping around to his back—evidence of how completely he was severed. Your throat tightens at the memory.

"Hey," he catches your wrist when he notices your fingers have stilled on his scar, trembling slightly against his skin. "I'm right here. Still in one piece, see?"

He tries for levity, but you can't shake the image of him split open, of those endless seconds when everyone thought—

Before that thought can fully form, Satoru moves with that impossible speed of his. One moment you're lying on his chest, the next you're on your back, pressed into the mattress with him hovering above you.

His white hair falls forward, framing his face as he looks down at you with those striking blue eyes. The scar catches the dim light, a silver line across his torso that makes your throat tight.

"Stop that," he says softly, pinning your hands beside your head. "I can hear you thinking too hard about it."

"You were cut in half, Satoru," you say quietly. "That's not exactly an easy image to forget."

"And yet here I am," he cuts you off, pressing his forehead to yours. One hand releases your wrist to guide your palm to his chest, letting you feel the strong, steady beat of his heart. "Feel that? Still beating. Still whole. Still yours." His voice drops lower. "I could never leave you. Not even being split in half could keep me away."

He kisses you then, soft and bittersweet at first, before deepening into something more intense. His lips move against yours with a tenderness that makes your heart ache, each press and slide a promise sealed into your skin.

He kisses you like he's trying to prove something, like he's pouring all his certainty and love into this one moment until the scar becomes just another story written on his skin, not an ending but proof that he always finds his way back to you.

His hand cradles the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he draws out the kiss until you're both breathless with it.

"Besides," he murmurs against your lips, that familiar boyish glint returning to his eyes, "being cut in half just means there's twice as much of me to love now."

Before you can groan at his terrible joke, he moves again and pulls you flush against him as he rolls, and suddenly you're on top of him, straddling his waist. His hands settle on your hips, thumbs brushing the bare skin where your shirt has ridden up.

"See?" His grin is absolutely insufferable now. "Still strong enough to manhandle you around."

"You're stupid," you say, but you can't help smiling as your hands splay across his chest, feeling his laughter rumble beneath your palms.

"Stupidly in love with you," he counters, pulling you down for another kiss. His hands slide up your back, holding you close as if to prove his point about his strength remaining unchanged.

The scar moves under your touch as he breathes, but now it feels less like a reminder of what you almost lost and more like proof of what you still have—his heart beating steady and strong, his arms around you, his smile pressed against your skin.

"I love you," you say against his lips, "even when you make terrible jokes about being cut in half."

"Especially then," he says, and you can feel his smile widening. His hands grow more bold as they trail down your sides, and you can feel his breath quickening beneath you.

"You know," he murmurs against your lips, "we should probably make sure everything's still working properly—" His fingers slip under the hem of your shirt, skating across your skin. "If you're up for round two?"

In one fluid motion, he sits up, keeping you firmly in his lap as his arms wrap around your waist. His lips find your neck, trailing hot kisses along the sensitive skin there.

"Just to be thorough," you manage to say, though the words come out shakier than intended as his teeth graze over your skin. And he only pulls you closer in return.

"So thorough," he breathes against your neck, one hand sliding up your back while the other grips your hip. "Need to make sure everything's in working order." His voice drops lower, rougher, as his kisses become more heated. "Every—" Kiss. "Single—" Kiss. "Part."

Your fingers thread through his hair as he continues to map every sensitive spot he knows drives you crazy, making you arch against him. His touch erases all thoughts of scars and fears, replacing them with the burning need to be closer.

And when he finally claims you, his movements leave no doubt about how very alive he is—each deep thrust and possessive grip reminding you that he's here, he's whole, he's yours.

The scar may still tell its story of how close you came to losing him, but tonight is about proving just how completely you still have him—all of him, in every way that matters.

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[silverskyeline]

I've recently lost a pet, my cat, and greiving quite a bit. i was wondering if you could do a super fluffy wolverine fic of him just saying everythings gonna be ok, it sounds silly now im typing this lol <3

I love your fics btw!!!! :3

hey anon <3 i am so so sorry for your loss, i've been there and i know how hard it is. it's not silly at all!! i hope this fic is okay for you, ily and i hope you're looking after yourself! please take care!

ੈ♡˳ 'grief' - logan howlett x gn!reader

summary: logan wants to help comfort you, the way that you often comfort him. (930 words) tags: logan comforts you, fluffy, chaste kisses, gentle touches, very brief mention of grief, very brief mention of loss, established relationship.

logan's eyes flutter open, almost on instinct. when he glances to the side, his suspicions are confirmed - you've been awake for a while. he can tell by the way your eyes scan the ceiling above you, tracing patterns and cracks in the paint like they're highways you're speeding down to escape the thoughts in your head. he knows that look because he too often finds himself speeding down those same highways.

he turns, wrapping a thick arm around your waist to pull you closer, nuzzling his stubble into the base of your neck. he takes a deep breath, encouraging you to do the same. when your chest rises with his, he exhales deeply, pressing a soft kiss to your skin in praise.

"mornin', bub," he whispers, his voice soft, a tone he reserves only for you, even more so on days like these.

you rest your head upon the top of his in a silent reply, cheek nestling against his fluffy hair. you breathe in his scent, relishing in the way it's so familiar and grounding to you.

his arm squeezes around you, eyes flitting up to your face, taking in your weathered expression. he wishes he could take away those dark thoughts in your head, the feelings that weigh you down - but he knows it ain't that simple, been there himself way too many times to foolishly believe otherwise. logan thinks of all the times you've held him, your gentle reassurances, how easy it seems to come to you to offer that comfort.

he wants to do the same for you.

"it's gonna be okay," he hums, punctuating his words with delicate, chaste kisses to your neck, "i know it. . . it hurts right now, darlin', i know it does. it's. . . alright to hurt."

logan curses himself internally, he wasn't good at this shit - wanted to be as good as you were, saw how the words came naturally to you. meanwhile, he's flipping through every single word he's ever known and nothing feels right.

"you don't need to hurt alone, though," he continues, swallowing the doubt he holds in his abilities, "you know i'm here. . ." lifting his head, he looks into your eyes, "you know i got you."

your eyes meet and you can tell he means it, really means it. he's trying hard, trying so hard. an honest crooked smile curls on his lips, one that's all logan, and it threatens a smile on your lips too.

you take a moment to feel him beside you, to get lost in the peacefulness that his company allows so naturally. his heartbeat is calm yet firm against your arm that finds itself pressed against his chest, the gentle 'thump thump' lulling you.

"that grief you got in your chest," he presses a large palm against your torso as though he can feel it - and in a way he can, you're connected enough emotionally that he can often tell what you're really feeling before you know it yourself, finding clues in the way your shoulders tense or the subtle tremble in your hands, "you can share it with me, y'know."

the palm on your chest travels upwards to cup your cheek, brushing a calloused thumb across your soft skin, "listen to me, everythin' is gonna be okay, you hear me?" his tone turns firm, but still loving, "i've lost enough people to know how fuckin' hard it is, it eats away at you, feels like you're chokin' on words unspoken or things you coulda' done or things you didn't do but. . . in the end, you loved 'em. they knew that."

the words hit you, emphasised by the delicate tone of his voice. you bask in the comfort he provides.

logan leans down to press a tender kiss to your forehead, lingering there a moment in the hopes that somehow it helps his words sink in. "i know i ain't good at this kinda thing, darlin' - but. . ." he pulls back, vulnerability etched on his face as his eyes link with yours, "i just. . . i guess what i'm tryin' to say is i'm. . . here for you."

and you know he is, sometimes it's hard to believe. logan, the wolverine, a man who once kept everyone at arm's length and vowed never to let anyone in again is here now, in bed, with you, comforting you with thoughtful words and soft touches.

you know he means what he says, because displaying softness is not something that comes easy to him, it's not something he allows himself to be around others. but with you? it's different.

"let's make you some breakfast, huh?" he peppers soothing kisses across your face, over your forehead, down along the slope of your nose, across your cheeks. . . hoping to elicit a smile, something that tells him he's breaking through that tough exterior you've built to keep yourself in that dark place.

and it works, because a ghost of a smile tugs at your lips.

logan smiles in silent victory, finally pressing a kiss to your lips before sitting up, taking your hand in his, "c'mon, let me spoil you today."

you reluctantly ease out of bed, following him - because you know he's right, everything will be okay. the fog will clear, little by little, navigating your way to sunny skies in time. and though the grief remains, it morphs. instead of reminding you of what you've lost, it reminds you of the good it gifted you, and the good that you too, shared with them.

[astr-venus]

｡⁠☆ Who Is This Diva✦

｡⁠☆Content: Shouta Aizawa BF headcanons

｡⁠☆Cw: swearing, pregnancy mention, threesome mention (still sfw tho !), no use of y/n

✦ Not the sweetest boyfriend or husband, at least not in most people's opinion. He's quiet, blunt, a bit of a tease as well, and all of these things kinda make him look like an asshole. These qualities don't change when you're together either, you just get really good at reading Shouta.

✦ Incredibly observant and somehow remembers everything you ever tell him. You could slightly hint at wanting to go to some fancy ass restaurant, and 6 months later when your anniversary rolls around all of a sudden he's taking you there, hell you don't even remember mentioning it.

✦ The man is blunt, but still a little shy, especially with overly lovely PDA. He can do handholding, hugs, pecks on the lips, but anything more than that and he'll push your face away like he's annoyed. He knows damn well he's flustered and embarrassed, but he absolutely refuses to let you see that. Heaven forbid you see your big strong man weak for you.

"What the hell is wrong with you, we're at the school... No you can wait till we get home you aren't dying, stop being dramatic.... My face is NOT red and I'm not into it either, get away from me. You're such a pervert."

✦ A little insecure. He doesn't feel good enough for you. If you left him or fell out of love with him he wouldn't beg for you back, but I can't say he would just accept it either. He'd probably just... Grieve. He would want you back so bad, but would hate to make you stay when he fully believes there's way way better than him out there.

✦ shit texter. Terrible texter. Horrendous texter even. He's so dry and he deplores talking on the phone, half the time he just leaves you on read. He just don't even try to reply.

✦ a cuddle bug, but only behind closed doors. As soon as the lock on your front door clicks his arms are wrapped around you and his head is on your shoulders. He trails around the house behind you like a lost puppy (and if you don't let him in the shower with you ? Oh Lord you'll never hear the end of it)

"I don't care about whatever the hell an everything shower is. There's no reason why you won't let me in, I've literally been inside you, I don't care."

✦ possessive. Wants to know where you are and what you're doing at all times. Slightly controlling, but will back off if he's over stepped.

✦ scruffy but hygienic. Showers at least once every two days, but most of the time twice a day because of teaching and patrol. He buys antibacterial everything in a generic scent, but if you have preferences for anything he doesn't mind changing it as long as he still gets clean

✦ a worrywart. If you stub your toe and don't tell him he's pissed. An injury is an injury no matter how minor. He just wants to make sure he's taking care of you. If you do the same and try to help him with any cuts or bruises from patrol he'll pretend to get fed up, but in reality you make him feel so incredibly warm inside he feels like he might burn to death

✦ secure in his masculinity. If you're a fashion guru (or if you're Eri) he couldn't care less if you picked his outfit. You can put him in strawberry perfume and a skirt and all he would ask is that you make the outfit school appropriate

✦ speaking of Eri, that's his daughter, straight up. He loves that little girl like he birthed her himself, and the minute you two start bonding is the minute he figures out what heaven looks like.

✦ Shouta never really wanted kids, not to say he doesn't love teaching the brats at his school, but that really was enough time spent with children for the day. Until Eri came, and then when you came. I think he'd love to give Eri a little sibling, though I don't think he wants more than 3 kids. 4 at most.

✦ don't try to watch movies with him, don't bring him to the theater either, he's just gonna fall asleep as soon as the title screen comes up. He will beg and moan to watch some shitty movie with you and fall asleep before the main character even has their first line

"Hmm, what? No I wasn't sleeping... My eyes were closed because I was training my spacial awareness, I promise I'm still watching the movie... When have I ever lied to you ?"

✦ doesn't have a big presence and has a staring problem, people who don't know you're together think he's a stalker. Between his overall rough looking appearance and his hard focus on you he looks like a serial killer, there's a good chance you won't have to worry about a lot of other women bc of this tho (not that he would ever cheat, he'd fall upon his own sword first), so good for you !

✦ jumpscares you forever. He claims he isn't doing it on purpose, but for how often it happens it's gotta be malicious !! It's gotta be !! You turn around in the kitchen, when the hell did Shouta get there ? You're at the store, when did Shouta follow you out the door ? You wake up, good lord Shouta why are you staring at me like that ? There is no escape from how often he scares you either.

✦ starts referring to you as his wife before you're married, but he only calls you wife behind you're back before you're engaged. Since I don't see Shouta as the type to really yearn for marriage, I think if you don't have a want for it either he's calling you his wife a year into the relationship

"Yeah, my wife is at home with my daughter. They hate publicity as much as I do so I left them at home.... We've been together for a year, but known each other much longer. I'm incredibly lucky to have her."

✦ a very soft man. To outsiders he's cold and prickly but he's actually the sweetest blueberry in the basket, he's like a huge cat. All of his touches are gentle, he would never forgive himself if he hurt you, he'd spend his whole life atoning for something like that.

✦ I would like to end this post by saying if you ever convince him to do a threesome it would be with Hizashi. That is all.

Also, what character would YOU like to see next ? Thinking Mina or... Maybe I'll work on my Hawks characterization... Decisions decisions....

I kinda wanna make another post like this but it's erasermic + y/n. My fav polycule besides for tdbkdk if I'm honest. Should I do a Mic intro and then the poly post or just skip straight to the poly post ?

Slow posting as well 💔💔 made this blog and immediately got hit with the Too Busy To Post Beam, but I stare at it longingly before I go to bed every night

｡⁠☆Requests open

[13hoax]

‧₊’tis the damn season ༄

fem!reader x ex!matt sturniolo ౨ৎ 13hoax

— after you and matt broke up about a year ago, he ended up moving to LA, while you stayed in massachusetts. to escape your heartbreak and the town you both once shared, you found yourself a new home near cape cod. you recently were hired at a local cafe that also acts as a bookstore. just as you start moving on from your break up, a familiar face shows up unannounced at your work.

inspired by this song by taylor swift - notes: swearing, angst, fluff

— [10:13am] the air brewed of coffee beans and cool autumn air. you boringly peered over the cash register, studying the few people quietly sat in scarves and boots, sipping coffee and flipping through crisp book pages. your focus shifted to the door when you heard the loud and unforgiving bell, hung above the wooden frame. the heavy door began to swing open due to the harsh breeze outside.

approaching you slowly through the doorway was a brunette haired boy. you began watching attentively as his eyes darted across the cafe, making himself familiar with the layout he'd clearly just discovered. he adjusted the buttons on his coat while he walked up to the counter. his head finally lifted up enough to meet yours, then you got a glimpse of those familiar blue eyes.

standing in shock on a painfully slow monday afternoon, was far from expected. it was matt, your ex-boyfriend matt, who you haven’t seen for almost a year. even though you haven’t spoke to matt in what felt like forever, you still thought about him every single day since he moved out to LA. he also realized who was standing right in front of him at the same time as you. after what felt like ages of you both standing aimlessly, acting stunned by each other's presence in a random cafe in cape cod, you gain the courage to confront him first.  

“what are you doing here?” you interrogate with annoyance.

matt: “that’s a weird way to say hello,” he says smirking

“seriously matt why are you here?”

completely avoiding your question, matt continues his dialogue while peering down, toying with some wrapped baked goods displayed on the counter top.

matt: “sooo... since when did you work in cape cod?”

“since when were you back in mass?” you sass back while acknowledging his ignorance.

matt: “hm.. since maybe the holiday season? and i'm staying at my parents house.." he paused then continues, "i'm actually shocked you chose to move here out of all places.. it's a bit touristy, don't you think?” he says, tilting only his eyes upward to find yours.

“it’s actually the farthest i was able to go from our hometown, the tourists don’t annoy me as much as you’d think they would.”

matt: “so you enjoy it here..?”

confused by his questions and the fact he appeared out of nowhere. your temper starts to rise due to the feeling of humiliation on why your ex, matt sturniolo, would show up at your small coffee shop, an hour away from both of your hometowns. your eyebrows tighten together when you decide to interrogate him once more. 

“seriously matt, i'm not here to play games. out of all places you could go to in massachusetts, why are you here??”

matt whines with a pouting frown, “is it a crime to want to order a coffee and support a small business-” “oh don't give me that shit, seriously you need to leave, now,” you quickly interrupt him as you turn around to hand one of your co-workers an empty coffee cup. matt holds his head up higher to get a better look at you, who is now standing next to the sink, drying coffee cups with a clean towel.

matt: “you aren't curious what i've been up to?.. not even a little bit?”

turning your head only slightly to hear him better, you scoff at his egotistical question while replying, “if i wanted to know who you were hanging with while you were gone, i would've asked you.”

while standing your ground to hopefully show matt you won’t come running back to him any time he shows you attention, you continued to keep your eyes locked on the delicate cups in front of you.

you hear matt sigh as he seemingly gives up hope and guides himself out of the shop. once again you hear that painful brass bell ring, but this time you’re relieved because it means you’re safe to return back to the cash register. 

— [3:03pm] after your shift ends you collect your things from the rusty lockers. the whole interaction with matt is still haunting your thoughts and is inescapable at this point. with your leather shoulder bag and water bottle in hand, you clock out and make your way to the back door to start your walk to your newest apartment.

as you reach into your bag to grab your cinnamon flavored lip gloss, you pass the brick corner and instead of seeing the cement sidewalk like usual, your eyes draw you to see matt. once again he's standing right in front of you. you stop like a deer in headlights as he reaches out to touch your forearm and starts to speak,

matt: “ok seriously.. i come all the way over here to see you, and you shoot me down like that?”

in disbelief of his words, since he was the one who left you heartbroken last fall due to his job on social media and traveling back and forth, you become curious of his intentions.

“so you couldn't just call? you just showed up at my minimum wage job instead?”

matt: “i didn't want to upset you, i just wanted to check up on you. no matter what happened between us.. you know i still care about you.”

“yeah you really cared when you made me leave the warmest bed i’ve ever known, that shit fucked me up matt.” you say unsteady. 

matt: “i know there’s an ache in you, put there by the ache in me. and i'm forever sorry for that. but please.. i just wanted to see how you were doing.. truly,” he says sincerely.

he notices your longing stare with watered eyes and tries to change the topic in a quick attempt of redemption from his unannounced appearance. he rubs the side of your arm with his thumb, desperate to comfort you and find a distraction, “is that a new lip gloss?” your eyes shift to him as he wipes the corner of your eye. you nod shakily, trying to suppress the emotions from not only seeing matt when you finally thought you were over him, but also the feeling of his touch that was deeply missed. you slowly start to walk past him as he follows closely behind.

“you’d be surprised how much lip gloss a girl can collect in a year,” you say, trying to forget the subtle breakdown that just occurred.

he smiles at your words while he catches up to you, removing his keys from his jean loop. pointing the key, he unlocks his muddy truck tired vehicle on the street, and grabs the door handle to open the passenger door only slightly. “spend one weekend with me, we can call it even,” he says, locking his eyes on yours. he knows if he holds the contact long enough it’ll be harder for you to deny him.

breaking eye contact, you brush between him and the truck, signaling him to let go of the handle. you open the door facing away from him, trying your best to hide the end of your teary eyes and the new pink flush gathering in your cheeks. you swiftly jump into the passenger seat, turning back to him while nodding ever so slightly, “i’ll be yours for the weekend.”

— hi! this is my first time writing here, so i hope anyone who reads this likes it!! and i’m sorry if i got any grammar or punctuation wrong!! i have part two in the making so lmk if anyone is interested :) 

© 13hoax — nov. 2024

this fic is being added to my evermore collection! i plan on writing a fic for each of my fav songs off there since it’s one of my fav albums!

[captain-huggy-bear]

Late Bloomer

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Quinn finds out he's your first boyfriend in your mid-20s, you're expecting him to freak out.

Notes: In honour of still being single at 26 nearly 27, for all my late bloomer girlies, you're fine. (I didn't have my first kiss till 24, so you'll be fine, we'll be fine)

"You're my first..."

"What?" It's not that Quinn hasn't heard you, of course he has. Your head is in his lap, he's so close he can hear every breath from you as you lounge together on his couch. It's that he doesn't quite believe it. That this talk of past partners summarily ended with you admitting he was your first, you? How could he be your first when you're the dream for him?

He looks dumbfounded above you and you can't help the embarrassment that floods you, cheeks feeling warm as you scramble out of his lap and towards the other end of the couch. He reaches for you on instinct before you get very far, hand wrapping around your ankle to tug you back lightly.

You're embarrassed by it, mid-twenties and a self confessed late bloomer, your first kiss not long ago and Quinn your first boyfriend. It makes you feel immature, silly. You're prepared for the usual questions; what was wrong with you that you didn't have a partner before him, had you just not been interested or was there some sort of skeleton in your closet that he didn't know about. You only admitted it because he was asking about past partners and you refused to lie to him, couldn't possible lie to him.

"Hey, hey, where you going?" His voice has gone soft, eyes softening at your retreat, like he's calming a skittish animal as he tugs you back to him. You're still keeping some distance, not quite as close as before but not so far either.

"It's weird, isn't it?" You avoid his eyes, arms crossing over yourself protectively.

"No, I'm just surprised, sweetheart..."

"Right...cause it must mean there's something wrong with me, right? Why else would I be in my mid twenties and only just in my first relationship...it's okay, I know it's weird." Every single person who'd ever told you it was weird, questioned your singledom seemed to pop into your head in that moment. Every date who got weirded out by it and ghosted you. Every time your mother suggested that you might just never find someone. Every person that gave you that look of pity then whispered behind your back. In that moment you can't comprehend that Quinn's being genuinely, that he doesn't actually think it's weird or at least not in the way you think.

"Baby," He's laughing at you lightly as ramble out your words, hand pressing under your chin, thumb and forefinger gripping gently to raise your face to meet his eyes. "It's not weird, I mean...okay, it's not weird like that. I just...i'm surprised no one else snatched up before me, y'know?"

You're a little stumped by the way he's smiling at you, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he pulls you closer, your legs resting either side of his lap.

"You're just...you're funny," He presses a kiss to your cheek, the scruff he's been growing this season scratches pleasantly as his voice rumbles in a hum of sorts, "kind," a kiss pressed to your forehead, "intelligent, so smart its actually embarrassing for me," a kiss to your other cheek, nose nuzzling just a little before moving on, "brave," the tip of your nose is the target this time, "insanely pretty," your chin gets a peck, ", and completely perfect for me".

His breath hovers over your lips, waiting for your eyes that had closed to reopen before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. It's perhaps the sweetest kiss he's ever given you as his hands curl over your hips and a happy rumble escapes his chest like a cat purring.

"You...you mean all that? You're not weirded out by it?" You ask the moment he pulls away, that hesitancy still there. Your desire to not ruin this new, sweet thing you have so very strong. He's all you ever wanted and you don't want to ruin it just because you're inexperienced.

"Baby...i'm actually kind of glad...can I say that? Not to sound like an asshole or anything, but....I like that i'm your first boyfriend, that I get to be that for you." There's this possessive little thing in him that loves it, loves that no other man has made you feel the way he does, that there are so many firsts he gets to share with you, that no other man gets to claim you were his. It's stupid, old fashioned, practically cave man. He knows you're not a trophy, an object, he doesn't think you are...but he also hates the idea that you might have loved someone else.

"You jealous?" You tease, shoulders relaxing as your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck. He'd been growing it out over the season and you were tempted to pay every barber in the city to refuse to cut his hair.

"Of other guys who might have loved you? Oh, yeah...want you all to myself, forever." His fingers rub circles into your outer thigh, where your sleep shorts have risen. Every other circle interrupted by a random shape or pattern.

"Forever?"

"Forever. If you'll let me?" There's no doubt in his mind that you're it for him. He's been gone from the first moment, all consumed. His life used to be strictly hockey and then you stormed into his life, suddenly he wants to take breaks, hates roadies because he misses you, and looks for a familiar face in the crowd. He could see it, you, him, forever. You, him, a few little kids running around, a couple of cats, a house in the suburbs.

You grin at him, humming as if it's a hard question to answer, something that requires a lot of thinking. "Mmm, I'll think about it,"

Your teasing is cut short by Quinn's fingers finding their way to your ribs, tickling you in your soft spot as you shriek and try to pull away, "Hey! Quinn!", his right arm holds you tight to him, even as you squirm while laughing so hard you worry you might be sick.

"Say it!" He demands, torture not letting up for a single moment even as he grins down at your scrunched up face, at the way you try to squirm away as you laugh.

"Okay, okay!" You finally concede, trying to catch your breath as his fingers still, your arms wrapping tight around his neck, foreheads pressed together. "Forever."

"Good."

He might be your first boyfriend, but he's also pretty certain he might be your last. At least, if he has any say in it.

[pipsqueaks89934]

December 1st: Gifts

Warnings: stalking, kidnapping, blood, gore, age gap, getting knocked out, Yandere stuff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since December 1st, you've been getting these weird gifts in the mail like jewelry, your favorite snacks, stuffed animals, and other things. Of course, you didn't mind it, I mean who wouldn't like gifts? You just thought it was just your boyfriend or friends being nice but when you tried to thank any of them they all refused to give them to you with a confused look on their faces. Even after talking to everyone you knew about the gifts you were getting, they wouldn't stop if anything they were getting a little alarming like on top of the nicely wrapped gift would be a note, drops of a mysterious red liquid, or a text from a random number telling you that your gift has arrived and he can't wait for you to see what's inside.

“Babe, there's another gift and the note says I can't wait to see you soon!” you say into your phone as the voicemail lady asks you if you want to re-record your message.

As you put your phone away into your pocket you look at the onymous gift that has been left on your doorstep. After a few minutes, you decide that it would be best if you brought it inside since you felt like someone was watching your every move.

What could my boyfriend be doing that's more important than answering his phone?

While you look at the beautiful wrapped present something inside of you is telling you not to open it and call the cops. Despite your better judgment, you get your box cutter and open up the mysterious gift that your stalker gave you. When you opened the box the sight inside made you scream and call 911.

“911 what’s your emergency?” the lady on the other end said politely.

“MyboyfriendsheadisinthisboxthatsomerandompersongavemeSENDSOMEONENOW!” you said quickly as you yelled the last part into the poor girl's ear.

“Ma’am you need to calm down,” the lady said with a hint of sympathy in her tone. “Now tell me again but this time slower.”

“My boyfriend’s head is in this present that some psycho gave me, can you send someone now?” you try to say calmly but you are still in a panic.

“I'll have officers at your house soon,” the lady said hurriedly as she began to panic. “Can you answer a few questions for me first?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“How long have you known the victim?”

“A few months.”

“Where did you meet?”

“A mutual friend's birthday party.”

“Did you ever want to hurt him in any way, shape, or form?”

“What no, he was my boyfriend!”

“Did you ever hurt him in any way, shape, or form?”

“No!”

“Did he ever hurt you in any way, shape, or form?”

“No.”

“Do you know who did this to your boyfriend or anyone who might have done this?”

“No, not that I can think of.”

“Did you touch any part of the crime scene?”

“Only the note, the envelope, the box, the box cutter.”

“Okay, the police should be there shortly, can you stay on the line until they get there?”

“Yes!”

A few seconds later you heard a pounding on the door with the words, ‘This is the police’ following after it.

“I think the police are here,” you say quietly into your phone to the lady. “I'm going to go let them in!”

“Alright, call again if you or they need anything!” she said before you hit the hang-up button.

After the call, you walked to your front door so you could let the police in but before you could get a good look at the policemen you were knocked out. When you woke up you saw a man that you'd seen a few times at work standing in front of you.

“Why am I here? Where are the cops? Who are you? Where am I?” you asked the man in a panic while looking around the room.

“Wow, so many questions,” the man laughed as if you had said something funny. “Well to start I’m Landon, I'm 23, you're in my basement, and the cops are never going to find us. I saw you at your work and I just thought you were the cutest little thing so I started to send you gifts but you ruined it by calling the cops.”

“But I don't know you!” you said before Landon bent down in front of you.

“That’s okay because I know you and we have all the time in the world for you to know me,” he said while rubbing your thigh. “The sad thing is that you have to stay down here until I can trust you but don't worry you have everything you need.”

[pandora15]

idk if it's just me but the acolyte having a character specifically calling the jedi a cult (even if it doesn't reflect the views of the showrunner/the message the show is trying to convey) doesn't sit right with me, especially knowing how this fandom is

like yeah sure maybe leslye headland doesn't believe that herself but it sure is gonna make That Side of the fandom misinterpret that and use it as extra ammunition against the jedi

[yoshistory]

part of me still feels like i might be sort of genderfluid and/or bisexual but just traumatized about it. no idea anymore

[in-class-daydreams]

Imagine yours and ex-husband Gojo's son possessing both the six-eyes and limitless, just like his father.

You'd ask him how was school and he'd beam while toeing off his shoes.

"Sensei and I spent hours perfecting my domain." Sen stretched out his shoulder. "I'm so tired!"

Sukuna may have been rough around the edges (to say the least) but surprisingly his teaching style worked like a charm with your son.

Even more surprising is that Sen and Sukuna seem to actually like each other. They're Kyoto Jujutsu High's strongest mentor-mentee duo. That little detail is best kept away from Satoru.

~

Imagine ex-husband Gojo dropping off some flowers to you ("as friends!") and when you head to the kitchen find a nice vase, his eyes lock on another bouquet sitting on your dining table.

"You got another admirer, sweetheart?" he'd say jokingly, assuming they were from Sen or you bought them yourself. Your silence suggests otherwise.

He'd walk up behind you and put his big hands on your hips. Whispering in your ear, "Who're they from, baby? Does he make you feel the way I do?"

Tired of his tendency to get in your business, you turn around and push him off you. "It's none of your business. Stay in your lane before Sen puts you through a wall again!"

~

Imagine ex-husband Gojo coming over again with Sen's (tentative) permission.

Gojo would drape himself all across your couch and say, "Y'know, there's still time to transfer him to Tokyo High. There's no rules against it and I'm literally the only one who can properly teach him how to use our cursed techniques."

"It would be nice to have him learn with another six-eyes user, but he's doing very well at his current school," you'd tell your ex. "He and Sukuna work very well together."

"And how well do you and him work together?" he'd ask casually.

"Excuse me?"

"Mom, I'm back!" Sen would burst through the front door and wrap you in a giant bear hug. He only spares his father a fleeting glance. "Don't you have anything better to do other than bothering my mom?"

Satoru would ignore the comment. "Hey, kiddo, what do you think about transferring schools and learning from me? I could teach you a lot about your abilities! What do you say?"

Sen's face would contort with disgust. "No thanks. I actually want to learn how to fight, not just rely on limitless and the six-eyes to carry me."

The evening would end with Satoru storming out the house, Sen locking himself in his room, and you taking a few pills for your growing headache.

~

Click [here] for more of Sen being mean to his dad | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

[poguelandiarafe]

red carpet reveal | drew starkey

pairing - drew starkey x gf!reader

warnings - none

summary - drew brings you to the outer banks season four premiere even though you're relationship is still under wraps. well, until it isn't thanks to a pushy reporter.

--------

the 'outer banks' premiere is in full swing and you're so grateful you get to experience it with drew for the first time. you're buzzing with excitement, the flashing of cameras and excited fans screaming as the cast makes their way onto the red carpet feels surreal.

"you doing okay?" drew asks, gently squeezing your hand.

you nod, looking up at him with a smile, "more than. go shine you superstar."

he chuckles and his hand gives you another comforting squeeze before letting it go and opting to rest it on your back. the way he looks in that suit, flashing his signature smile to the cameras, makes you wonder how the hell you even let him out of the hotel room.

as drew is ushered into many different interviews, you keep to yourself, staying mostly in the background and out of shot. you don't mind this, always having preferred to watch him in his element. he talks with so much passion and excitement that you could, and do, listen to him for hours on end.

the night seems to be going perfectly until it's not. the problem? a leggy blonde who's seemed to make it her life's mission to interview your boyfriend. you claim to not be the jealous type, but you can already tell the type of questions she's going to ask by the way she stalks over to him, eyes not so subtly looking him up and down with an exaggerated smile on her face.

"so, drew," she begins, her voice already annoying you, "you're looking very handsome tonight. outer banks season four! what's it like to still be playing the hottest character on the show? you are literally the internet's boyfriend right now."

he's here with you, don't let it get to you are the words that keep repeating in your head as drew politely answers the question, but you know she's attempting to flirt with him.

"what does your family think of the show? i'm assuming they're very proud," her eyes briefly flicker over to you and she turns her attention to you, "you must be such a proud sister, right?"

you scoff, not only at the question but at the condescending way she's talking to you, like you're a child.

"uh... she's not my sister actually." drew chuckles awkwardly, his free hand coming up to scratch at his neck.

her eyebrows raise in surprise before her shrill voice cuts through the air, "oh sorry! well, it's so thoughtful of you to bring your friend to the event."

yes, you've both agreed to not directly make your relationship public, but god did you want to set the record straight. the way her hand kept grabbing his arm throughout the whole interview is making your blood boil.

before you can say anything, the interview continues and she pays you no more attention. drew's patience for this is wearing thin, but he's determined to remain professional, not wanting to go viral for lashing out at someone for doing their job.

"coming back to my earlier point about being the internet's boyfriend, how's the love life? tell us, do you have your own sofia yet or are you still available?" the interviewer asks, playful flirtation coating the words as they leave her lips.

drew's arm unloops from yours and slides around your waist to pull you slightly closer to him. he's not trying to out your relationship, just reminding you he's there.

his eyes narrow slightly in annoyance at the question, "i... uh, well it's my personal life. wanna keep it personal."

"come on, not even an inkling of an answer?" she insists.

you've had enough of this woman and, quite frankly, drew has to. he's ready to walk off but you don't let him, instead moving to face him with your back to her.

"what are you doing?" drew leans down, whispering in your ear.

before you let yourself overthink what you're doing, you grab the back of his head and pull him into a kiss. everyone around you is in shock. cameras are all turning toward the two of you, and the fans are screaming even louder now. the kiss isn't a subtle peck or quick goodbye kiss. no, it's a kiss that is telling the world he's yours and no amount of bad flirting will take him away from you.

when you pull back, your cheeks are flushed and drew has a stunned smile on his face. your eyes suddenly widen as the realisation hits you like a train of what you just did, and he can tell that a million thoughts are going through your head.

"hey, stop overthinking it. i'm glad you did it," he starts before whispering, "meant she finally shut up and stopped trying to flirt with me."

relief washes over you and your tense shoulders drop as you let yourself relax. you don't even want to think about the social media reaction right now.

"umm," the interviewer clears her throat, "i guess that answers the question."

you grab drew's hand before looking back at the woman, "i think we're done here."

[fallingforyouforeverr]

𝐍𝐚𝐩 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 | 𝐎𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐏𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢

summary: Oscar misses a team meeting, but when Lando goes to look for him, he gets a surprise

author's note: i finally published my first f1 fic!! sorry it's so short, but I have a bunch of other drafts I'm working on rn that will hopefully be finished soon. also, i literally wrote this at midnight inspired by a picture i saw on Pinterest so it's kinda bad but oh well

warnings: none, just fluff (600+ words)

• f1 masterlist • youtubers masterlist •

It was no secret to anyone that Oscar was a clingy boyfriend. The other drivers loved to compare him to a koala because of how often he would wrap himself around you, pulling you close to him and resting his head on top of yours. Although he often annoyed others by getting distracted by you, they couldn't even blame you for it and even Zak had to admit his clingyness was actually quite cute.

Today however, it was annoying – especially to Lando who had spent the last 20 minutes searching for his teammate after he failed to show up to the team meeting. He had already checked everywhere he could think of and was beginning to contemplate calling the police and reporting the younger boy missing when he heard a faint snore coming from a small room on his left. Slowly pushing open the door, Lando was met with the sight of you and Oscar sleeping on a sofa, your limbs so tightly wrapped around each other that it was hard to tell where you ended and he began.

As quietly as he could, Lando took out his phone and snapped a picture of the two of you and posted it on his story. He slid it back in his pocket, wondering how to wake his teammate without disturbing you, when Oscar stirred, stretching out his long limbs and opening his bleary eyes.

"Wakey wakey sleepyhead," Lando teased, causing the other boy to groan.

Oscar wriggled his arm out from under you, bringing it up to rub his eyes. "What time is it?" He asked.

"It's almost 2"

"WHAT!" Oscar shot up, accidentally waking you in the process, "shit I missed the meeting didn't I."

"Oz? What's wrong?" You spoke as you sat up, voice still slightly scratchy from sleep.

He froze, looking at you with wide eyes and a guilty expression. "Um... I forgot to set an alarm and I kinda slept through the team meeting."

"Oscar!" You scolded with a laugh, " Zak is gonna be so mad!"

Lando chuckled, making you jump as you hadn't realised he was there. "Oh yeah, he's pissed by the way."

Dragging a hand down his face with a sigh, your boyfriend reluctantly pulled himself out of your arms and stood up. "I'm gonna go catch up with the team," he announced, raking a hand through his hair as he rushed out to the garage.

"Oh I can't wait to see what Zak is gonna say about this" Lando began, a grinning cheekily at you. Narrowing your eyes at him in response, he held up his hands in surrender. "Ok, alright, I'm going!"

Smiling wryly at his childish antics, you began packing away your stuff, knowing that Oscar would be finished soon as he tended to become antisocial when tired. Just as you finished putting the last item in your bag, the Australian appeared in the doorway, affection laced with exhaustion in his eyes as he observed you. When you had finished, he held out his hand for you to grab as he led you through the McLaren hospitality. You had almost reached the exit when a familiar voice rang out behind you.

"Ah, Oscar, there you are!"

You both turned around guiltily to come face to face with a less than pleased Zak Brown. "We missed you in the meeting earlier, mate. I hope that nap was worth it."

"Oh yeah sorry I was um-" Oscar paused, a frown overtaking his features as he realised what the older man had said. "Wait how do you know about that?"

Zak chuckled, calling over his shoulder as he walked away, "Let's just say a certain someone isn't very good at keeping secrets."

"Lando, that absolute muppet!"

[webism]

KINKTOBER DAY THREE: bondage with nanami.

kinktober masterlist

Nanami, your other half, is meticulous and an overbearing perfectionist on the best of days. You love it about him, love the way that when it comes to you, everything has to be perfect to no fault. You love his dedication to the simplest of things, his attention to detail, you love his patience.

You don't love it when he's using said perfectionism to prolong your time being tied up. You see it in his pretty eyes, that knowing look—he's not taking his time for the sake of perfection, he's taking the time to perv on those frustrated whines that you let out the longer he takes.

Your wrists are bound at your front, a soft shibari rope wrapped around your skin. He had picked it out himself, opted for a more expensive option as it was less likely to irritate your skin—after all, you're being bound to further enjoy yourself, not to decorate your skin with marks he'd much rather leave with his mouth.

Still, he works on the rope around your waist with no sign of eagerness or a rush towards completion. Instead, he continues to watch your body in what looks like a clinical examination, hands working gracefully as he knots the rope against your skin and builds a harness, no doubt good to hold onto so you can't start to shift away once thinks become overbearing. You sit on your shared bed, eyes heavy and stuck on his face as he works—calculated ministries become just a little quicker as you pout.

"Ken," you whine, subconsciously trying to pry your wrists apart to grab at your lover. Your fingers find nothing but air, your arms bound, rendering you useless.

"I'm almost done," he says calmly, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. He finishes before any other complaints can leave your lips, though you suspect he could have been finished fifteen minutes ago if the sight of rope against your bare skin didn't send blood right down to his cock.

He stands back from where he's working with satisfaction, a pleased look in his eyes that makes you want to squirm, wanting to crawl into his lap and beg forgiveness for whatever you might have done wrong in your past life if it means he'll just fuck you already. But you keep your head up, eyes set on his.

Your legs are bound thigh-to-calf, your throbbing cunt forced onto display by your bindings—if Kento were a worse man he'd leave you like this, bound with a vibrator against your pretty clit for hours on end as he files some paperwork or catches up on the novel he's been reading.

And although the thought is enticing, turning your moans and drawling orgasms into ambient music for the house you share, he's a selfish man at heart and could never deprive himself of you—not when you're like this.

"I think you're beautiful, my love," he leans over you, brushing a cool knuckle over your warmed cheek. A flush spreads across your cheeks, warmth blooming in your belly. His touch doesn't last long, his hand trailing off your shoulder and dipping down to tug at the rope that twists around your torso.

"You're perfect, you know that?" He tries again, and pulls so hard on your rig that your back meets the mattress and, all of a sudden, your Kento is hovering over you, cock hard against his slacks. "And you know that I love you."

"I know," you nod.

His hands fumble for his belt, and he's hooking his cock out of his pants in the same breath—too eager to fully undress. "I appreciate your trust in me," he tugs at a rope around your thigh to get you just that little bit closer to him; you can feel the heavy weight of his length against your stomach—and he can see just how deep inside of you he will be soon enough, "Though I fear seeing you tied up like this… it makes it hard to be gentle with you, love."

You lean up to kiss his jaw, his lips, anything you and reach while bound so intently. "I don't need you to be gentle with me. I am at your disposal."

Something in your lilt breaks the band of resistance that holds your lover still—he groans as he presses forward, pushing into you without any preamble. You're beyond wet, he hardly feels bad for not prepping you on his tongue beforehand. He has plans of ruining you with his mouth once he's fucked you full of him. "How can I possibly deny you?"

As he bottoms out inside of you, Kento grabs the rope that binds your wrist and lifts them above your head, pressing them into the sheets and rendering you completely motionless. Try as you might, you can't move an inch—you're entirely at his lust-glossed mercy. "That's better, hm? Much easier now, yes?" He pushes deeper into you, grunting out as he fills you in. "You don't have to think, don't have to move, you don't have to anything but take me."

The words are familiar to you—you've heard them hundreds of times before. In the throes of ecstasy, they sound like a lullaby to you—though this time there's some truth to his words. A genuine lack of need to move, to speak, to try and keep your hips at pace with his. As Nanami pulls back, drags his aching cock out of you before rutting right back into your tight core, you're able to completely relinquish control.

And god is it narcotic. The ruthless pace that he sets, muscles that cord his arms keep you in place as he bullies his cock into you. His mean thrusts are occasionally broken up with an open-mouthed kiss to your waiting lips, though the world is spinning too fast for you to register much other than raw, undiluted pleasure. You barely have the voice to announce your orgasm, let alone ask for permission to cum, so when your orgasm wracks through you like tropical waves against a cliffside, your lover can't help but bite at your exposed neck in feigned disappointment.

"Oh, love," he coos, but doesn't slow the roll of his hips even slightly. "You know I don't like it when you don't use your words."

You can't, not with the way he's fucking a second orgasm into you before you've even recovered from your first. Not when you're bound so tight that you know you have no way out of his ministries, not that you want one. You haven't felt so blissed-out in a long time, and there is no place safer to lose your mind than in Kento's arms. Though there's a dangerous lilt to his voice when he leans own, thrusts sharp into your overstimulated pussy, and whispers against your ear. "You're going to wait, and you're going to cum alongside me, love."

It's all too much, your vision is near-white with hot pleasure and you worry that you'll never think a straight thought again if he keeps rendering you dumb like this. You try desperately to climb up the bed, away from his overwhelming size, but he's got an iron-wraught grip on your bindings. "Ah," he chides. "Don't run, take me- I know you can."

The moans that rip from your throat are made for porn, especially in conjuncture with his groans and bitten praises. It's not long before his ruthless pace starts to falter, and the slap of skin against bruising skin starts to stutter as your lover reaches climax.

"With me," he chokes, the hand that had held your wrists up finally falling down to rub relentless circles over your sensitive clit. You're overwhelmed, orgasm cresting almost painfully as your mind blanks and you come harder than you think you ever have before. Nanami releases inside of you, his free hand holding you as close as humanly possible through your bindings.

And once he's cum, stolen a few breaths to steady himself enough to lift himself up and look down at you, Kento Nanami fears he might be a bad man. Because with the way you look, tear stained cheeks and complete lack of freedom, he can't help the words that slip from his lips.

"You can handle another, can't you, love?"

tags: @medusamara5 @echodead @aliisinwonderland @curiositykilledthecatx3 @hirainne

@plinkuro @sooouth @megumiiiswife @nyxiswrites1200 @yveiscringe

@sharks31 @lenahathunger @aydene @dreamyokai @n0tviv

@chiiinglebells @timetoletmyimaginationfly @nayely45 @waffless-simp-blog

@zoozvie @gothicchildofthenight @repnights @flwerie @soundofraindropss

@ushijimas1simp @aliidarling @aeswin @peachygelic @silvermet

@rinadisapproves @theshxaverse @cipher00 @milkkteary @snackeyalleyjuice

@cvipped @toadtoru @keiette @satosugu4-ever

@sugurubabe @wickedpoison6 @simp-plague @tojis-ball-sack @ventila98

@xxbookdrunkdemigodxx @oikawasthirdleg @yogichi @theycallmesia

@kdrama-anna @vurelliex @anonnieghost @tadabzzzbee

@luvofbows @crywolfix @hhonaoin @gigiiiiislife @aviesnapkindoodles

@ninikrumbs @bijuu-naginata @baekhyunsbestie @grimmshold @dalnimmie

@domainexpansionmypants @5tarx @1depressedsimp @beachaddict48 @jadeis0nline

@sukunasbbygrl @luna-v-roiya @sukunaspillow @starsval @vamqyx

@laaalaaaloooppppsiiieeeee @mermaid-jewels @sugusmonkeyy @sammywo @noyaskneepad

@astrideverstar @lordchula-thagrandrula @chuuminn @angel1of-death @flooftoof

@rumi-rants @dysphoricsanity @coolcephalopod @satoruslxt @xoxo1mira

@whosmarjj @kikosaidbye @iceddragonfruit @amisuh @lotties-ashwagandha

[lubdubology]

Soft Edges

SYNOPSIS: Logan doesn't know how to relax. So you help him.

PAIRING: Worst!Wolverine x fem!reader (Although minus the quick blip mention about the Void, you could imagine any Logan you'd like)

WC: 2K

WARNINGS: sexually suggestive innuendos; non-explicit descriptions of nakedness; playful banter; kissing; mild swearing; feeeeeelings; honestly, just tooth rotting fluff

A/N: I haven't written anything four hundred and eighty years seven years and I'm honestly kind of nervous about this. I thought my writing muse was long dead and buried. But here it is, seemingly revived. The idea for this story kind of just fell out of my head when I should have been napping while my toddler napped. The story won out. I hope you like it! <3

You wake with a jolt to the sound of Logan’s alarm blaring from his phone. From beside you comes Logan’s low, “Ah, fuck,” before silence reclaims the room. 

It’s early, the first rays of morning light just barely peeking above the horizon. You roll over and peer over your pillow to find Logan pulling on a pair of jeans. 

“I thought you were off today,” you mumble sleepily, laying your head back down and admiring the way his muscles move as he slips a shirt over his shoulders. 

He looks back at you with a soft smile. “Didn’t mean to wake you,” he says, continuing to dress. “Picked up an extra shift at the yard.”

Since returning from the Void, Logan had picked up a smattering of odd jobs to earn money. A couple of months working at a quarry. A per diem for a local contracting company. Currently a lumber yard thirty minutes outside of town. Despite notoriety for helping save the entirety of existence, some employers still had qualms about hiring someone from another universe. Not that he cared. You think he was just happy being useful. 

You reach for him and pull him down for a kiss. You can feel the curve of his smile against your lips and it’s these soft moments about him you love the most. “Do you even know how to relax?” you ask, snuggling back down against the rumpled sheets. 

“I relax,” he replies, standing up to grab his boots at the end of the bed. 

You can’t help the snort that escapes from you. “Name one thing you to do relax,” you counter, watching through half lidded eyes as he sits back down on the bed to lace up his boots. 

Logan pretends to think about it and then smirks. “You.”

He chuckles as you whip his pillow at him, your aim off as it sails harmlessly past his head and onto the floor. You hide your smile as he looks down at you, his eyes warm but still tired. “Relaxing really ain’t my style, sweetheart.” 

“You deserve it though,” you say, stifling a yawn. 

Logan looks down at you for a moment, his smirk fading as something softer settles in his expression, but he doesn’t respond to your statement. He stands and shrugs on his jacket, straightening out the collar before leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. 

“Go back to sleep,” he murmurs.

You watch him leave and as you settle down to steal a couple more hours of sleep, you hatch a plan to show him just how nice relaxing can be. 

+++

You hum to yourself as you cook, the aroma of roasted potatoes and chicken filling the apartment. You’re just about to start on the green beans when you hear the jingle of Logan’s keys in the lock and the door swings open with a heavy creak. 

“In here, babe!” you call from the kitchen. 

“I could smell this all the way downstairs,” he comments, tossing his keys on the counter. “What’s this for?”

Logan wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you tight against his frame, nuzzling his nose where your neck and shoulder meet. With a smile, you reach back and lightly scratch your nails through the scruff along his jaw. He smells like sawdust and smoke as you press a light kiss to his cheek. 

You savor these moments with him. When you’d first met him, he was distant and wary, years of trauma causing him to be guarded. He warmed up slowly, his touches lingering longer and his words spilling more freely. But now, moments like this—where he’s soft and affectionate—have become more frequent. Logan craves touch and you are more than willing to reciprocate. 

“I thought you could use a nice dinner,” you say, your hand still tracing the line of his jaw. “Long day?”

Logan lets out a low grunt in response, his forehead resting against your shoulder. “One of those days where every idiot with a hammer thinks he can DIY,” he mutters, his breath warm against your skin. 

You smile and give his head an affectionate pat. “Well, you’re home now and I’ve got everything handled here. Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes.”

He pulls back just enough to look down at you, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Sure you don’t need help?”

“You try and help me, and I’ll beat you with this spoon,” you tease. 

Logan laughs and raises his eyebrow. “Promise?”

You smirk, giving him a playful nudge to the ribs with your elbow. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Logan.”

Logan’s eyes crinkle at the corners, the kind of smile that softens all his sharp edges. He gives your waist a gentle squeeze before stepping back, his fingers lingering just a beat longer. “Alright, alright,” he says holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll just go wash up.” 

As Logan retreats to the bathroom, you hear the rustle of him changing out of his work clothes and the thud of his boots as he tosses them to the floor. You finish dinner, resuming your quiet humming as you set the table. You finish plating everything when Logan emerges, work clothes changed for a fresh t-shirt and jeans. 

“Come eat, Lo.”

He joins you at the table and gives you an appreciative look as he sits down. “This smells incredible.”

You sit across from, watching as he takes the first bite, a prickle of anxiety setting along your spine as you wait for his reaction. A low groan of pleasure rumbles in his throat. “Fuck, this is good.”

A grin spreads across your face as he takes several more bites like a man starved. “I experimented with the cast iron skillet,” you comment as you watch him. “Looks like it was a solid impulse purchase.”

The two of you settle into a comfortable rhythm, enjoying the meal and sharing small pieces of conversation. Logan helps himself to seconds and as he finishes, he wipes his mouth with a napkin and sets his gaze on you. “You didn’t have to do this, you know,” he says, his voice low and warm. 

“I wanted to,” you reply simply. “And, like I told you this morning, you deserve it. Let me help you relax, Logan.”

There’s a pause, his expression softening as your words settle over him. You know he’s not one to ask for much and you can tell his savoring this moment. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” His voice is gruff but there’s a tenderness there that makes your chest ache. 

“A good something?”

He smiles. “The best somethin’.”

You finish dinner, swatting him away when he offers to help clean up and banishing him to the living room. Dishwasher loaded and leftovers put away, you join him on the couch. “Care to indulge me once more?”

He quirks his eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”

+++

Logan stares at you dubiously as you lead him to the bathroom and gesture towards the tub. You flash him a grin as a frown tugs at the corner of his mouth. “It’s just a bath, Logan.”

He eyes the tub as if he’s waiting for it to swallow him whole. He crosses his arms across his chest. “I don’t do baths,” he mutters. 

You roll your eyes and place your hand on his chest, gently pushing him further into the bathroom. “Yeah, and you don’t relax either. Just humor me.”

Logan gives you a look—half amused, half reluctant—as he allows you to continue to nudge him closer. He reaches up and scratches at the back of his neck and blows out a sigh. “Fine,” he grumbles, “but only if you join me.”

You laugh softly, leaning up to press a kiss to his chin. “Tough bargain, but I accept.”

You turn from him and run the faucet, letting the tap run until you find the temperature sweet spot. Satisfied, you toss in some bath salts, the scent of eucalyptus quickly filling the room. The tension in Logan’s posture eases as you finish preparing the bath, but he still eyes you like he’s not entirely sure what comes next. 

Once the tub is filled, you shut off the tap and turn back towards him. “Okay, now strip.”

Logan smirks and raises an eyebrow. “Oh, so this is what you really wanted.”

“You’re not that hard to get naked, Logan,” you say with a laugh. 

He chuckles, but follows your instruction, pulling his shirt over his head. As you join him in undressing, you can’t help but admire his physique, his muscles flexing and gliding beneath his skin. You shimmy your panties down your hips as he kicks off his pants, leaving you both bare. 

You feel his gaze heavy on your skin as you step into the tub and beckon him to join you. He steps in, sitting down so his back is against your chest and he lets out a low groan as the warm water envelopes him.  Wrapping your legs around his hips, you cradle him and feel the tension ease from his muscles. 

“See?” you say, leaning to press a kiss to his temple. “Isn’t this nice?”

Logan peeks up at you and smirks. “The naked woman helps.”

You grab a washcloth and dip into the water to dampen it before running it over his chest. “You don’t have to admit you like it,” you say, rubbing the cloth in gentle circles along his collarbones. “You’re basically a wet noodle in my arms.”

He makes a wordless noise in the back of his throat and closes his eyes as you continue to wash him. A comfortable silence surrounds you, soft drops and splashes of water and the faint background hum of your apartment the only noises interrupting your space. You continue to wash him, gently massaging his shoulders, arms, down to the long fingers that know how to play you so well. A deep groan rumbles through his chest as you rub your fingers across the skin in between his knuckles. 

You eventually let the washcloth sink and wrap your arms Logan’s chest. He molds his arms against yours, lacing your fingers together. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. 

You shake your head and hold him just a little tighter. “You do, Logan. Despite your past, you’re a good man and you deserve someone to help shoulder your burdens.” Your voice is sincere as you press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Or least help you relax every once in a while.”

You soak until the water cools just enough to chill your skin. Reluctantly, you untangle yourself from him and nudge him to stand. He’s already got a towel slung low across his hips as you step out and he doesn’t even let you grab your own before pulling you close. 

A yelp dies on your lips as he cradles your face in his hands, thumbs pressing into the corners of your jaw as he tilts your mouth up to him. He inhales deeply through his nose, his lips moving expertly over yours, his tongue seeking the warmth of your kiss. 

You lean into him, your fingers trailing along his ribs and pressing into the damp of his skin. Logan kisses you once more, a gentle press to the corner of your mouth before he lets you go. 

“So,” he starts slowly, “Now that you’ve shown me how you relax, can I return the favor?”

A mischievous gleam dances in his eyes and he doesn’t give you time to answer before slinging you over this shoulder. Your giggles echo down the hallway as he carries you and he kicks open the bedroom door before setting you down on the bed. You scoot back and stare up at him with an expectant glance.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he says with a grin, “My turn.”

[theosbaby]

Brother’s best friend!theodore smut please!! Super soft!dom Theo where he makes LOVE to reader. Perhaps shy!reader as well??

thank you so much for your request! i really loved this idea. i'm sorry that it took me so long to write this, but i've running low of inspiration lately. i hope you like it babe!

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ casually thinking about...

brother's bsf!theo taking your virginity

NSFW content ahead, +18

you can't believe you're actually making out with the theodore nott, sprawled on your brother's bed with theo between your spread thighs. his lips are avidly kissing yours, playful tongue delving inside your warm mouth as his hands roam over your gorgeous curves, fingers gripping your sides to tug you as closer to him as possible, not leaving even an inch between your bodies.

and you swear you're on cloud nine.

you're whimpering so prettily into his mouth, your body arching against his while you grasp his dark t-shirt between your slender fingers, the sweet flavor of your chocolate birthday cake still lingering on your plump lips as you return the messy kiss with equal fervour. the act is almost sinful —you're mattheo's little sister, for god's sake. not that he cares about it right now, anyways, not when your body molds itself so perfectly to his, like you were made for each other.

theo groans into the kiss, his hands sliding down to your backside to hoist you up against him. you gasp against his mouth, wrapping your legs around his waist, and you feel him grinding against the junction of your thighs, his own breath hitching as he feels your warmth through his jeans.

your pretty cheeks flush at the intimate contact between your heated bodies, your lips becoming sloppier as you struggle to keep up with him. this is the first time you're actually making out with a guy like this, and you're feeling embarrassed, nervous and excited all at once, which is kinda overwhelming.

he'd notice how your body slightly tenses beneath him. not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable, he slides his hands back to your hips to give them a gentle squeeze, trying to reassure you. he doesn't want to rush you if you're not ready —but oh how bad he wants to fuck you.

the kiss comes to an end, leaving you panting against his swollen lips, agitated. the way you find his deep set, blue eyes looking down at you when you open yours, makes you feel weak on your knees, the blush on your face deepening. he gives you a lopsided smile, his eyes glazed with lust as he brushes your long, soft hair out of your beautiful face.

"you okay, pretty girl ?" he'd ask, his voice husky, just to make sure you're not regretting what's happening. "are you enjoying this?"

the pet name he gives you makes you smile. "yeah," you whisper coyly in response, nodding slightly while your pearly white teeth sink into your bottom lip, which is a bit swollen from all the kissing.

"good," he murmurs against your mouth, "because i'm really enjoying it too." he pauses, his breath warm against your lips. "i was thinking maybe we could... you know... take things a little further?" he leans in and starts kissing your neck softly. "would you like that?

your heart starts hammering in your chest at his words, butterflies fluttering about crazily in your tummy, but you tilt your head to the side to give him better access to your throat despite your nervousness.

"we don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with, okay?" he reassures you softly, his hands squeezing your waist soothingly.

he continues planting gentle kisses on your neck, feeling you relax little by little against him. you let out a sigh, eyelids fluttering shut.

"i wanna do it," you admit, not being able to look into his eyes as you do, blushing, "just... don't tell anyone about this, my brother can't know."

you feel him smirking against your throat as he stops the gentle kisses, cupping your face to make you look at him; there's sincerity in his eyes as he says, "i won't, pretty girl."

"pinky promise?"

you'd extend your pinky, waiting for him to intertwine his finger with yours. theo smirks as he tenderly rubs the tip of his nose against your cheek, and he tangles his pinky with yours. "i promise."

he keeps kissing you for a bit more, caressing you over your clothes and whispering sweet nothings into your ear, before he starts undressing you with such care, as if he's afraid of breaking you. and you look so pretty while you're naked beneath him, just like a precious doll.

then, he'd spread your creamy thighs and ask for permission to touch you, eager to get his hands on that gorgeous pussy of yours, which is fucking soaked just for him, your juices dripping down your pink slit and onto mattheo's sheets —that fact has him painfully hard inside his pants. is he a perv? probably.

he's taking his time preparing you, thumb rubbing your puffy clit in tight circles while he plunges his thick, long fingers in your pussy. you're so fucking tight he struggles to push the first one in without hurting you, but after a few minutes, you're taking two of them like a champ, completely soaking his hand in your arousal when you finally cum on it.

theo can't take it anymore, seeing you so flustered and hearing your sweet little moans have him on the verge of bursting in his pants like a bloody teenager, so he withdraws his digits to start taking his clothes off too, and you whine at the loss. but the feeling of emptiness doesn't last long, soon he's pushing his thick cock inside your little cunt.

you're so slick that he slides in pretty easily despite the resistance of your tight walls, his dick stretching you a lot wider than his fingers. and it hurts a bit, but it's a sweet pain that has you whimpering as you beg for more. after a few thrusts, you're cock drunk underneath him, nails digging into his back and leaving scratches that he'll have to hide from your brother for the next few days.

he actually gets you to cum on his dick too, pussy milking him so good that he doesn't even have time to pull out. he spills inside you with a whimper, pounding sloppily into your spasming cunt to ride his orgasm as he stuffs you full of his cum.

more.

[evnseokz]

hii, hope you're doing well!

i'm thinking... bf!jungwon asks to record the sounds while doing sex and his gf decides to surprise him by asking him to cum inside

my first ever ask!! thank you so much for sending 🫶 hopefully i did this suggestion justice ^_^

pairing: bf! jungwon x f. reader

contents: p in v, unprotected sex (do nawt be like them), recording of moans/sex, pet names: baby, babe, kissing, nipple play

w.c. 640

his cock was nestled deep inside you, stretching you out so well. his thrusts were slow and deep, his tip kissing your cervix. your hands gripping his biceps as hard as you could, moans spilling from your lips.

jungwon was obsessed with the way you sounded, your moans being like music to his ears. an idea popped into his head. “baby, can i record your moans please?” he asked suddenly. your eyes which were closed previously, shot open, blush creeping onto your cheeks. “w-what?” you ask, slightly embarrassed at the question. “it’ll be for my ears only babe i swear, just for when i’m away and need to hear you.” he replied sensing hesitancy in your voice. you chewed on your lip as you racked your brain for an answer. finally you nod, jungwon not wasting another second to lean over to grab his phone off the nightstand and hit record. he set the phone down next to your body and focused his attention back to you and only you.

he continued his thrusts into you, light whimpers still falling from your lips, but now hyper aware of the phone recording you, you seemed to be holding back. “c’mon baby let me hear you” jungwon pouted. jungwon picked up his pace without warning, thrusting into you with speed, thus causing loud moans to fall from your mouth. jungwon smiled in satisfaction as he brought his hand down to your heat, and started rubbing circles on your clit. you cry out, the combination of him filling you up so well with his cock and the attention to your clit being all too much. jungwon smirked to himself, feeling you clench around his cock, he groaned slightly.

he can tell you’re close, his thrusts never slow and he leans down to capture you in a kiss. “feels s’good won” you mumble against his lips, he breaks away, and peppers kisses down your neck and to your chest. he brings his mouth down to your nipples, swirling and sucking on the sensitive nubs. the extra sensation sending waves of pleasure through your body, your orgasm ripping through you as jungwon continues to thrust in and out of you, seemingly chasing his own high. “w-where do you want me? i’m c-close” he stutters slightly. you contemplate in your head for a moment. “baby hurry and answer i can’t last much longer” he whines.

you wrap your legs around his waist trapping him in place as he continues to thrust inside you. you can tell he’s holding himself back from cumming, and you giggle slightly at his frustration. “baby it’s not f-funny” his head hangs as his balls begin to tighten. “i’m serious where do you want me” he says again. you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to be face to face with you, “inside” you say simply. you bite your lip, starting to feel overstimulated from his thrusts. shock is written all over jungwons face, “a-are you su-“ “yes.” you cut him off before he can even finish his question. you smash your lips into his, clenching around him slightly as you feel a second orgasm bubbling up in your stomach. he moans loudly, his hips stuttering and his thrusts becoming sloppy, emptying his seed into your cunt. your second orgasm follows shortly after, milking him for everything he has.

he reaches to his phone, pressing end recording and then he collapses on top of you, you shrieking slightly at the sudden weight on your body. “wonnn you’re heavy” you whine. he slowly lifts himself up, looking you in your face, “sorry baby, you were just too good” he smiled before dropping down to pepper your face with kisses. you giggle, managing to capture his lips into yours for a quick kiss. he pulls away, “i love you so much” he says, “i love you so much my wonie.”

[rosenclaws]

waking up worst!Logan with some head

warnings: minors dni!! 18+ only, oral (m!receiving), throat fucking, dirty talk, fem!reader

a/n: i'm gonna be so fucking real with u guys I woke up horny and so this was born.

It’s not fair how handsome your boyfriend is. Waking up to his firm chest behind your back, his strong arms wrapped around your waist, and his rock hard dick slowly grinding against your ass.

Logan grumbles as you turn around in his arms. Still asleep as he moves to lay flat on his back. Your fingers rake gently along his bare chest and dipping below the covers. Your mouth waters as you lift the covers to see his morning wood in all its fucking glory.

He’s so sweet to you, so desperate to please. It’s time you return the favor. Crawling to the end of the bed you spit on his dick and start to stroke him. Running your thumb over the tip as he shudders. You smirk as you see his eyes flutter open as you kiss the prominent vein that runs down to the base.

“Morning handsome.” You purr as your hand starts to move faster. He props himself up on his elbows to get a better view.

“Good fucking morning to me.” He mumbles as he licks his lips. Logan groans as you dip your head down and lick from the base of his cock to the tip. Tracing a large vein with your tongue.

“Shit,” His head falls back into the pillows as you take the tip of his cock in your mouth. Spit dribbles down your chin as you try and take all of him. He’s big, fuck he’s big and thick and feels so fucking good.

“That’s it baby, you can take it.” It’s been too long since he’s hand someone pleasure him like this. Since anyone’s been willing to show him love like this. You whine as his hand grabs the back of your head, shoving you all the way down on his dick.

“Perfect fucking mouth.” He growls.

Your fingers dig into his thighs as you focus your breathing. Your nose rubbing against his coarse hair as he slowly thrusts into your mouth. You bob your head in time with his thrusts. Swirling your tongue messily, craving a taste of the man before you.

He pulls you off his dick, needing you off before he snapped which you didn't like one bit. You know he's desperate and you want him to break. To beg and take charge, take the pleasure that you're so willingly offering to him.

“Don’t give me that look.” He tuts as he grabs his cock in his hands. Giving it a few hard pumps.

"Please, don't hold back, need you so bad." You whine desperately.

Logan’s eyes grow dark at the filthy sight of you. Spit still connected to his dick, eyes watery with tears. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you look this hot. He stands up and gently guides you to the floor. Grabbing your cheeks he squeezes until your lips pucker. He gently runs his cock along your lips.

"Feel how fucking hard you make me." He slowly lets go of your cheeks as he slides is back into your mouth.

"Don't know what you started," You relax your jaw as best you can, your eyes fluttering shut as you take all of him once again. Loving the heavy feeling of him on your tongue. He sighs as his thrusts get faster, harder. Pummeling your poor throat with the tip of his dick.

"Made just to suck my cock right baby? Yeah you fucking are." He shoves your head down as he comes hard in your mouth. You greedily swallow everything he gives you, not wanting to waste a drop. He relents his hold on you only a little, letting you catch your breath for a moment.

"Fuck you're too good to me, so sweet." He lovingly scratches the back of your head. He helps you stand up and lays you on the bed. His lips peppering kisses along your shoulder as his hips grind into your thigh.

"Logan.." You whine as he crawls lower and lower. His shoulder muscles flex as he kneels onto floor. A devious look in his eyes as he spreads your legs.

"You had your breakfast, now let me have mine."