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dilf-docs · 3 months ago

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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: 6,102 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.

"Use your words, sweet thing" the trepidation condenses between, "we're grown up now, aren't we? Use your words"

Don't let me fall. Don't let me go. Don't leave me.

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.

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ratatatastic · 5 months ago

Text

"—played out west, never made the playoffs, nobody knew who he was!"

"Yeah! And that was Connor McDavid for a while—obviously, this year was huge for them because they made it to the finals—"

"—and we're referencing Mike Trout."

"We're referencing Mike Trout—but, I feel like similar guys also in neither really seek the national spotlight."

"And that's fine!"

"But just like Trout had Bryce Harper...I think Matthew Tkachuk can be Bryce Harper!"

"I think absolutely—"

"The guy that wins a bit more, is on the more competitive team, and is the personality... we always tie back to baseball."

"We're tying it back and on that note I have a feeling Bryce and his club are gonna win one of these things at some point in the next few years..."

"I also gotta feeling if you threw em in a bar together, Bryce Harper and Matthew Tkachuk will become best friends in like 3 minutes..."

"I can see that!"

"I can see it."

"I can see them having some commonalities maybe Bryce will give him a cool headband and Matthew will give him a mouthguard, and off you go!"

"There you go! Worlds collide."

"—a bond built forever."

Territory Talk | 8.1.24 (x)

yes yes!!! give me another reason to baseball my hockey!!!

speaking of brycey headbands here are my favourites from the phils era <3 the recent wawa headband, the phanatics, the bi phillies and the showman

i think matthew and those curls would look so good in a headband but doing that im afraid he will not be able to beat those danny jansen look-alike allegations at that point (good timing too at least jansen isnt in toronto anymore and is a boston boy now so its okay now its not an insult anymore anything to support your dads team lmaoo)

and if we wanna hockey your baseball we can do that too!

bryceys a vegas boy since its his hometown!! and there have been multiple instances where hes worn gold in support of vegas whether in cleats, bat knobs, etc! (fascinatingly enough he was a caps fan at first since vegas didnt get their expansion team yet and since he was drafted by the nats but once vegas got their team he instantly switched over and became a big fan!!! yes his loyalties were very crossed in the 2018 scf and hes talked about it XD) and yes hes also done the playoff beard despite the fact he was currently playing baseball at the time so it was very funny watching him have a grizzled beard in fucking may of all months and also during the offseason he drop the puck at washington @ vegas game ofc

(also its very funny because in 2023 he was caught watching the scf in the dugout between innings while wearing gold decorated cleats to support vegas in the scf and while i cant find any tweets about it now i remember it very vividly when it happened because i was so distraught to see him root against the cats lmaoo i know another phil was watching it with him but i cant remember it mightve been stotty but take that with a grain of salt; now thinking about it, it was absolutely stotty hes a vegas boy too hes the only other guy in the dugout whod be rooting for the vgk too)

and yes we are 1 step removed from matthew and brycey meeting because of the kelce brothers and yes it is very wild to me i havent stopped thinking about it...soon...soon worlds will collide and i will never shut up about it...

STOP WHY ARE WE TALKING ABOUT BRYCE HARPER AND MATTHEW TKACHUK TOGETHER HOW THEYD BE BEST FRIENDS IF THEY MET PLEASE THIS IS NOT GOOD FOR MY HEALTH STOP IT

#help our employees are making sports fanfic on company time XD #sports rpf of brycey and matthew oh god help me #they both forgot to mention theyre both panderers as well lmaoooo #brcyey is a very charming panderer and matthew isnt there yet but oh boy i can see it in a couple of years just you wait #also doug going “bryce and his club” because he knows mentioning his baseball team will cause soflo fans trauma lmaooo #also “win one of these things” hockey superstition of not mentioning the thing youre gonna win to not jinx it spotted #but yeah i also believe the team that shall not be named will win one of those things to or be forever cursed by their city for ages to com #but also i think that matthews rpf depiction is very reminiscent to bryceys rpf depiction when he was on the nats #re:nats!harper and the multiple choking incidents #yes multiple #anyways thats all ill say on the subject #i guess they were both hot shot rookies with a bratty streak that are actually really nice guys off the ice/field is what we have here #brycey has calmed down a lot these past years too i think thats just being 30 and maturing #anyways #absolutely buckwild to say no one knew mike trout as if you dont go into a dicks sporting goods and see his face everywhere???#hes has a shit ton of accolades too #if youre a baseball fan you KNOWW trouty #but the context here is there talking about popularity amongst general audiences in the united states especially in the easy coast #but also very fascinating to compare mike trout to davo #because i have explained davo and the oilers deal to a baseball friend of mine by going #“youre a halos fan so the whole showy trouty halos narrative? okay davo and drat and the oilers are a carbon copy of that but hockey”#i have caught myself going davo tungsten arm o doyle's himself too XD #this is another excuse for me to talk about baseball again yeah #why do all my men have shitty taste in sports allegiances its really a tradegy its okay i still support them and their bad tastes...

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t3ag3rs · 8 months ago

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Hii!!! I hope youre doing well. I loved your last bakugo hcs! Could u do a part 2 of younger! s/o x bakugou?

help ykw so funny this is based of delusions of my crush whose also my moms friends son and a yr older than me.... but yes ofc 😋 (even tho i havent updated my actual fanfic in more than a week...) ITS A SHORT ONE YALL IVE BEEN REAL BUSY WITH PROJECTS THESE PAST COUPLE WEEKS

the next encounter you have with bakugou is when his mom invites you and a couple of close work friends over to their house.

you walk in and head upstairs to see the other kids only to find them in the theatre room watching Spiderman.

you awkwardly sit at the opposite end of bakugou and who you guessed was his baby cousin on his lap.

after about 30 minutes you start getting bored so ofc ur eyes start traveling to the other side...

that views better than the movie anyways.

"hey shortcakes... wanna play cards with the kids?" asks bakugou as he stands up grabbing his cousin.

"yeah we can" you smile sitting down on the floor in a circle next to his cousin. "hey there.. whats your name?" you inquire to the kid as bakugou goes to find the cards.

"tobio" (bear w me😭🙏) he states smiling, you grin before leaning to him, "hey you should really tell bakugou that you like me better.."

"okay" he giggles before shuffling next to you as you hear footsteps approach. "tobio- you like me better right..???" You chuckle.

"wayyyy better" he replies looking at bakugou, "suit yourself bud.. just know that means your not getting to play on my phone anymore" chortles the other male showing off his phone.

you slap his arm, "hey! thats leverage! not allowed!" you exclaim, "yeah..! What she said!" adds tobio looking at you.

"tobio youre supposed to be on my side here! I'm your cousin!" bakugou says defensively.

you stick your tongue out in response with a playfully grin as you hug tobio. "hes mine now old man..!" you laugh.

all that could be heard from downstairs was the sound of pure laughter from you and bakugou.

"dont start stealing my stuff shortcakes.." he grins at you as he stretches and slumps his body weight on to your side. you grunt as you shove him off, "get off you big back..!"

only to which you were suffocated by his weight again.

"MITSUK-!!" you start before bakugou places his hand over your mouth. you stare up at him wide eyed with a slight blush dusting your cheeks.

"how bout you dont kay shortcakes?" he asks with a devilish smirk.

well fuck. there goes your sanity.

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rosenclaws · 3 months ago

Note

Hi love, I hope you’re doing well! I’ve been a fan of (stalking but let’s not talk about it) your blog for a little while, but this is the first time I’ve sent in a request for you! Your writing for Leopold is literally the sweetest ever and you’re the only writer I know of that actively writes for him, it’s so dry out here!! I was wondering if I could request something fluffy with Leopold x fem!reader where is like the most tooth-rotting fluff you can think of. I’m talking him trying to court the reader even though it’s the modern day and that’s not really a thing anymore and shes a bit confused but loves it, a super touchy reader that loves to shower Leo with her affection, literally anything. Those are just ideas, feel free to be as creative as you’d like (and don’t be shy if you wanna make it a longer fic, I’ll take what I can get). This fandom (if I can even call it that) is such a barren wasteland for fanfics and you are such an amazing writer for him and just in general!!

Much love 💕

Courting || Leopold Mountbatten x Reader

a/n: Hi!! Okay I kinda took this in a slightly different direction so if its not what you wanted then plz feel free to send in another request (ik they're closed but I will make an exception) ALSO FUCK HES SO HANDSOME IM GONNA SCREAM

wc: 1.2k

warning: reader wears lipstick

The last thing you expected was to find a neatly written letter waiting for you when you got home. Pinned neatly to the door with a small rose attached to it. You recognized Leopold's handwriting immediately, no one else you know has such beautiful penmanship.

There’s a flutter of butterflies in your stomach as you open the letter. You and Leopold have gotten very close to each other. He’s unbelievably charming and so sweet and he’s just everything. The way he looks at you, it makes you feel like the only one in the world.

Hello my love,

I am writing to ask if you would do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner and a show this Friday night. I have found myself completely captured by your beauty, you live in my every thought. Every breath I breathe for you and every beat of my heart calls your name. I wish to court you and have the honor of calling you mine.

Your dearest Leopold

You read the letter once, and then again and again. Your fingers trace each letter. Never have you had anyone say something so precious to you before. The rose smells fresh and sweet, he must have gotten it this morning. You hurry to write him a reply, accepting his offer with great enthusiasm.

Folding the letter you press your lips the corner of the paper leaving a lipstick mark. Leopold lives just down the hall so you walk over. Just as you’re about to slip the letter under the door it swings open.

“Leo!” You squeak out as stand back up, almost knocking your head into his chest.

"Hello darling." He's dressed in casual clothes and my god you need to thank whoever introduced him to sweatpants. Anyways.

"I see you received my letter." You bite your lip as you hand over your letter. His name written as fancy as you can.

"Yeah, it was really sweet Leo." He takes the letter and you swear he blushes a little when he sees the lipstick mark. He stares at you for a while, with that perfect smile and gorgeous eyes.

"I uh, I'll see you Friday." His eyes light up at your words.

"I'll see you Friday my love." He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles.

You manage to keep it together as he shuts the door but once you make it back to your apartment you're melting. A giddy feeling you haven't felt in years. You have to wonder how he will attempt to court you in modern day. People don't really court anymore but all you care about is that you have a date with Leopold. Friday couldn't come fast enough.

You had never felt this nervous before. Spending way too long getting ready just to be done an hour early. It's just Leopold, you know Leopold. There's no reason to be nervous but you can't stop the tornado of worry brewing inside of you.

What if something goes wrong? Or the date goes horrible? What if he decides he doesn't like you anymore? What if this ruins your friendship. You shake your head and try to dispel any bad thoughts.

Tonight was going to be great. It has to be. There's a knock at the door and you quickly double check everything before opening it. Any worry still residing in your mind disappears. A beautiful bouquet of flowers is handed to you as Leopold is dressed to the nines. A crisp white shirt and black pants.

"They're beautiful." You say admiring the flowers. Fresh and absolutely gorgeous.

"Not as beautiful as you." Leopold says, barely at a whisper. Like he can't believe that you've even agreed to a date with him. He can't help but admire everything about you. To your smile, your beauty, your laugh, your voice. You're perfect.

You place the flowers in a vase and then the two of you are off. He rests his hand on your back as you walk through the city. His thumb draws circles in your back as you approach the restaurant. He's planned everything himself and he can't help but hope it's enough for you.

Dinner is lovely and the conversation flows without any awkwardness. You're talking to your friend Leopold but you know there's something more as you slowly get closer to each other as the night goes on. Hidden away in the corner booth you are free to get lost in each others eyes. Though you wish you could stay here all night he promised a show. Leopold loved the theater and he promised one day to take you and tonight was the night.

"How did you get such good seats?" You ask as he waits for you to sit before he does.

"I have my ways darling." You're hyper aware of just how close the two of you had gotten at dinner and how close you are now.

The show is interesting yes but Leopold was a very distracting man. Your hands inch closer together. Glancing over at Leopold you find him already looking at you. He waits for your silent approval, not wanting to cross an boundaries. So you take the leap. Intertwining your hands together.

A faint blush on his face and a big smile on yours. His hands are so warm and they fit so perfectly with your hand. When the show ends you reluctantly head back home. You don't want this night to end. Your hands swing together as you gush about the play.

"I had a wonderful night Leopold," You're leaning against your door, wanting so badly to keep the night going. His hair swoops perfectly in front of his forehead and he's got this pretty smile that you can't stop staring at.

"So did I, Thank you for accompanying me tonight." His eyes drift to your lips.

It's adorable seeing just how old school he really is. You know he's from 1876 but still. Modern boys pale in comparison to Leopold.

"You know you don't have to be so nervous Leo, I want to kiss you too." You say boldly.

He chuckles, ducking his head as bites his lip softly. He cups your face gently and you close eyes as he gently captures your lips in a kiss. He's gentle and sweet and you crave more. Still he pulls away much too soon. You pout slightly and he laughs.

"I know I'm much more traditional than you're used to." He traces your lips with his thumb. Admiring every little detail of your face.

"But someone as wonderful as you deserves to be treated with the upmost respect." He kisses your forehead gently.

"You deserve to be loved," Another kiss.

"To be cherished," Another.

"And to be worshiped." Words fail you completely. Leopold has rendered you utterly speechless.

"Did I overstep?" He asks, worried about you silence.

You shake your head. practically jumping into him as you kiss him. Passionately running your hands through his hair. He groans slightly as you tug on his hair. He pushes you against the wall, bracing your head with his hand as he kisses back.

"I'm falling in love with you." He whispers. A hopeful glint in his eyes.

"I'm already in love with you." You admit.

You become lost in his lips as he kisses you again. He just can't get enough. You blindly reach for the door handle and without argument pull him inside of your apartment.

Soft kisses and laughter are shared quietly between the two of you. Time ticks by but you have lost all sense of care in the world. All that matters to you is this moment. Your fairytale come to life. And it was just perfect.

#hugh jackman x reader #kate and leopold #leopold mountbatten #leopold mountbatten x reader

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missriddle03 · 1 month ago

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Title: Can't sleep without you

Parings: Matt sturniolo x reader

Small synopsis: You and Matt have an argument and Matt can't go to sleep without talking to you about it

Time to read: just over 3mins roughly

Word count: 582 words

Warnings: none rrly but angst and slight fluff

Song recommendation: My love mine all mine-Mitski

The silence was deafening even with the tv playing in your room but you weren’t paying attention to the show that was playing. Your hands were placed on your knees feeling some sort of comfort. Matt’s words replaying over and over in your mind with the same tone and the same angered expression.

“You’re suffocating me! I'm your boyfriend not someone you need to protect all the goddamn time”

It was a simple miscommunication that turned into a full blown argument and no matter what you or Matt said to diffuse the situation it made things 10x worse. Now Matt was sitting in his room, whilst his brothers were asleep, as his guilt wrapped around him..strangling his thoughts with how your face looked.

What you didn’t realise was that Matt couldn’t take the guilt so he left his room and got into his car and started driving to your place.

It wasn’t normal to have arguments like this, maybe an occasional row but nothing that would make both of you feel broken inside. You looked at your phone wanting to text Matt but you didn’t want to seem clingy, the tv was still playing so you ended up turning it off and laying your head onto your pillow wanting to fall asleep. Just as soon as you were slowly getting to sleep a knock was heard on your door. Hesitating, you eventually got up and opened the door.

“Matt, what-what are you doing here?” you asked him, however you couldn’t deny you were glad to see him. His hair was ruffled and he wore a white t-shirt under his jacket. Matt placed his hands in his jogger pockets.

“Can I come in?”

You nodded and let him in, Matt sat on your sofa. Silence took over as the awkwardness became more apparent. “I’m sorry,” was all he said but his voice had a bit of a deepness to it. You noticed his leg was slightly bouncing up and down.

“No, it’s okay. We both said things but you were right..I was being too protective of you and I’m sorry for that” you admitted but he shook his head immediately. He wanted to get up and hug you but instead he sat down next to you and that was all.

“Don’t say that..listen, sweetheart I love it when you’re protective of me it shows how much you care. It's just sometimes I can’t understand how I got so lucky, I’m just not used to it” He placed his hand on your knee. You let out a sigh unsure of what to say.

“You mean so much to me, I never wanted to make you upset. Can I hug you?” He asked you. Your eyes look up into his and nod your head, Matt smiles and wraps his arms around your waist: resting his head on yours. “I love you so much, Matt” you finally say.

Hearing your voice made him feel content and that was all he wanted. “I love you too sweetheart”

You placed your hand into his as he placed a kiss on your head. A slight yawn escaped Matt’s lips and an idea popped into your head. “It’s getting late and you’re tired. Maybe you should stay the night..only if you want to” you suggested.

“I would like that very much,” you guided him to your room and put your tv on while falling asleep next to him and the relief of understanding washed over you.

AHHH my first Matt Sturniolo fanfic done!! let me know if you want more! also this is my masterlist if you're curious as to what i write <3

#matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew bernard sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #sturniolo fandom #tags #masterlist #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chloè writes

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coffeekittycatt · 1 month ago

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Birthday Wish ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Notes: Rafayel x Reader fanfic. Fluff but suggestive ending. 1,169 word count.

Premise: You wish Rafayel was real.. now someone is suddenly knocking at your door.

- I am very new to writing fanfic so be patient with me 🙂‍↕️

link to pt 2:

—————————————————————————————

I peek outside my window. The sky, a soft mix of cotton candy colors. Today was my 23rd birthday, and I spent it how I usually do, alone. Sounds sad, but I don’t mind. I’ve learned to be independent since my father passed.

Happy birthday Sugar, I got us your favorite takeout. Let’s watch Mean Girls tonight!

The memory passes. Today makes a third birthday without you. I close my window blind and make my way to my recliner. It’s soft and cushioned. The house is quiet, a peaceful place even though it does gets lonely not having my dad around. He left his small cottage to me and it’s become my safe haven. Mostly everything is still in place from before he left. Except things that are entirely mine, like my room. I take a seat and sit back. My phone vibrates and lights up. “Hey (Y/N), hope you had a great birthday!! Looking forward to seeing you when I get back 🩷” Ana. My close friend. Her message is sweet, reminding me I am not totally alone on this day. We planned to hang out after she gets back from her New York trip. I smile and unlock my phone.

All I want to do now is my dailies in Love and Deepspace. I open the app and wait for it to load. I press enter and am surprised to see Rafayel on my sceen. I totally forgot that this game does something special for players’ birthdays! A cutscene starts and eventually Rafayel gives me a cute gift. “Happy birthday my dear girl..” he sings to me. Wow, he has an angelic voice. My eyes slightly water and my cheeks are warmed. Why am I getting emotional? I wipe my eye with my sweatshirt sleeve and continue tapping. “Don’t worry, if you’ve got my blessing, then the Guardian of the Sea is also aware,” He adds. I pause for a moment and decide to playfully say out loud, “I wish you were real, Rafayel.” I cringe at myself and laugh. Here I am crying over how sweet a character is. I need to get a grip! I finish out the cutscene and eventually I collect some rewards from completing my dailies. I don’t know when or how, but I somehow doze off and am fast asleep.

Knock Knock. I hear my back door. My eyes flick open. What the hell? Immediately I am panicked. My house is not very close to any neighbors. They would have to walk quite a bit to get to me. Even if it was a neighbor, why would they knock at the back door? Could it be a burglar? Someone in need? An axe murderer? I take a deep breath and hurry to grab my pepper spray. My dad always taught me to have something as self defense. I peek out the small window near the door. Dammit. It’s too dark to see anything. My back porch light isn’t working at the moment. I need to replace it soon for times like this. I am too afraid now. I stay silent and wait for the mystery visitor to take their leave. A moment passes and I hear it. Knock Knock. Oh man. I decide to get close to the door. “Who is it?” I call out. “It’s Rafayel, let me in!”, the intruder exclaims. Excuse me? What did I just hear? I don’t know anyone named Rafayel.

Me: “I don’t know you or recognize your name. How can I help you sir?”

R: “Ouch, you don’t know me? We’ve spent almost everyday together! Cmon, (Y/N). Did you forget your birthday wish already?”

My heart drops to my stomach. Rafayel? Birthday wish? My mind circles back to before my impromptu nap. The fucking mobile game?! I am screaming internally. Okay, this must be a dream..or a sick prank. Maybe I am going mentally insane. I need to shut this down. I ready my pepper spray and crack the door open. I peek out and immediately, in the dim light, I see purple. Purple, fluffy hair layered across. My body freezes up. My sight trails downward to a face. Beautiful, bluish-pink eyes look at me. A small pointed nose and soft pink lips are painted on this man’s face. Rafayel. It’s actually him. I am mesmerized at his beauty, and how the real life version of him can even exist. It’s otherworldly, incapable of being real. But it is. Taking in more of the view, he is wearing something I wouldn’t expect. A faded, cherry colored hoodie with pair of light black cargo pants. He raises a hand to his head to swipe a bang out his face. Silver rings are worn on his delicate, long fingers. Still in shock, I try to speak.

Me: “R-Rafayel?”

R: “Took you long enough. It’s freezing. Soon enough I’ll be frozen like the trees out here. Can you let me in?”

I scratch my head. Guess we are doing this. Hey, maybe I will wake up again in a mental hospital and this will all make sense. I open the door all the way to let him inside. He makes his way and immediately I feel arms wrapped around me. “What th-“ I squeeze out as he takes me in for a tight embrace. A hug? My face is now on fire. I inhale and smell an enticing mix of cologne that can only be described as an ocean-breeze. It is exactly how I imagined he would smell. “My love, my dearest girl,” he says with his chin laid on my head. “I have been waiting for the day we could touch.” I smile at his comment as my face is buried in his chest. I can’t believe this is happening. My heart is racing.

Me: “How were you able to come here? How is this possible?” I look up at him, searching for answers.

R: “I told you love, any wishes you had today would come true. You have my blessing, after all.” He smiles and moves a piece of hair out my face. “You’re so much more beautiful in real life.”

I look away out of shyness. I had never been around someone so gorgeous before, let alone a guy who was so into me.

R: “You don’t have to be afraid,” he gently cuffs my cheek and pulls my gaze back towards him.

He leans down and sets my heart ablaze. Soft lips caress mine and gentle pecks are placed onto me. The bashful kisses turn into a tongue asking for an invitation to dance with mine. His sturdy hands hold my face and support me. I am lost in his kisses, savoring every moment. Each one now slightly sloppy, his tongue exploring my mouth, tender, but eager to taste more. He bites my lower lip, not aggressively, but a gentle tug that leaves me a mess. The heat from my cheeks had made its way down to my core and suddenly I am completely aroused by this man. My body has decided it needs all of him. Anticipating his next move, I watch as he pulls away from me. He stays close to my lips and I feel his warm breath against my face. “Show me your bedroom, my love.” He whispers to me.

#love and deepspace #lads photobooth #lnds mc #lads mc #lads #lads rafayel #rafayel edit #rafayel x mc #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #rafayel #rafayel smut #fluff #lads fluff #lads smut #rafayel fluff #rafayel x y/n #lnds rafayel #rafayel fanfic

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leonawriter · 6 months ago

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Excuse me while I basically make Azure Throne into a hakukai fanfic.

This got... really long, and veered off from what I intended for it several times, but is basically at heart as I said, a look at Azure Throne through the lens of "what if we work on the assumption that Hakuba knew it was Kaito from the start, and/or they're actually outright flirting."

Hakuba: Kuroba what are you doing here. Why aren't you even in a disguise- oh, I see. This is interesting.

Kaito: Oh god it's Hakuba he's going to see through me like I'm made of cellophane or something. Please don't call me out here. I am pretending not to know you. Shush. PLAY ALONG.

Kaito: Come on please let one of my detectives have SOME faith in me. Restore my faith in humanity. Take the fucking bait, Hakuba.

Hakuba: Oh, that's. That's... I see what's going on here. That does complicate matters. All right, fine. I'll play along. Because I want to find the truth more than I want you arrested.

Hakuba: [Merely pays more attention to the actual suspects]

Kaito: [internally shouting "THANK YOU."]

Hakuba: We need to know exactly where everyone is, what they were doing, and if you'll excuse me I am going to geek out over science now-

Kaito: Okay well watch me explain in detail how Kaitou Kid (who is Not Me, by the way, in case you needed to be reminded) got in here. And let's conveniently not bring up how no one knows how Shinichi got here and Kid left.

Hakuba: Oh, and I anticipated your entire trick.

Hakuba: Because I know exactly how you work and I also know exactly what your clothes are made of.

Kaito: Wow... you're creepy, you know that? This is why I try and send you off on a wild dove chase each time you're heading to one of my heists.

Hakuba: Isn't it funny how I planned to catch Kaitou Kid that way, and instead I caught you two. I'm sure there's absolutely no connection between either of you and Kid... is there? Kaito?

Kaito: Oh but you know you can't say anything until this case is closed. I know you can't.

Hakuba: This means you too, Kaito. I'll be needing your firsthand knowledge of the way things went, of course.

Hakuba: It'll be good to have another actual detective on board for this!

Honestly I can just leave this one be. Kaito is enough of a tsundere that "But, to think Hakuba came back... he should have just stayed and studied in London forever!" is accurate to what I think he'd be thinking right there.

It also matches with the several times (Dark Knight and Green Dragon especially) when he's personally redirected Hakuba away from the heist.

Plus, with his attachment issues (one parent he idolised is dead, the other is barely home), I think Kaito would have a very hard time dealing with Hakuba, who (like his mother) travels a lot, and is... barely there, really. :(

Hakuba: Now, I wonder if you can keep up as a detective when playing one?

Kaito: Oh yeah? Watch me! Uh... I just need a pointer. That's all.

The interesting thing here is that Kaito has played at being a detective in the past. He's even played at being Mouri Kogoro right next to Hakuba here, in the Twilight Mansion case. However... in that case he wasn't needing to play a smart detective, and in any other instance he wasn't technically a "detective" (Magic Lovers Murder Case, where Katsuki Doito is a medical student) or he knows that Conan is capable of solving the mystery if he gives the right hints (Four Masterpieces, when he's being Takagi).

There's also the time when he played Hakuba himself in the movie Private Eye's Requiem, and we don't know how many times he'd have done that, that we haven't seen.

Point is, though, Hakuba doesn't know how good Kaito's observational skills are as a detective and it feels kind of like... if he knows (and I'm sure he has a gut feeling from the start even if he doesn't have evidence) he wants to know- "I can keep up with you, on your territory, but can you keep up with me, on mine?"

With that in mind, the fact that Kaito's only relaying what Shinichi's telling him must be... frustrating, for someone who'd actually be curious what Kaito can do, and I'm sure Hakuba would want to push Kaito to be able to figure things out for himself as well.

But I digress. Moving on.

Hakuba: [Has just seen "Kudo" flirting and being sentimental with Ran, "his" girlfriend, in a way that Shinichi himself says is so spot-on its kinda pissing him off] Oi. Kaito. I thought you were interested in Aoko. Watch it. [Also kinda jealous himself.]

I freakin' LOVE these two panels. This entire sense of "Yeah Hakuba's got Kaito sussed and he's already got half of what's going on with Conan, and yeah the next thing he does is question "Are you really Kudo Shinichi?" it's because of a potential flawed deduction when Shinichi's supposed to be this perfect saviour of the Japanese Police Force.

And in posing the question in such a way, he's allowing Kaito - master of disguise! - to come up with a cover story. Which, of course, he does.

But overall? It's the sense of... actually, just as I said. Hakuba's going "Shh. I'm talking to [him]! Don't interrupt us, okay?" - He's going "I know you're helping him, but I want to know his capabilities. Not yours."

Kaito just calling his ass out like "Hakuba I know you're obsessed with me- I mean Kid- c'mon I know you better than that~"

Also the phrase "Rumoured to have his eyes light up at the mere mention of Kid" more like. Kaito you have seen that in person.

More like I look at it and I'm like, is this Kaito saying "I Know What You Are"?

I know that it's not just them, but it's this nice little touch of the two of them standing next to each other, while Conan is on the other side of the group, and they're both mirroring the other's posture.

Kaito's already thought to himself how he barely needs to change his voice, and it's easy to imagine him barely changing his behaviours but adjusting so that he's more serious and less playing the clown or showman.

In this case, he's fully paying attention to the case (just as he has in previous ones as a witness) and...

He and Hakuba are on the exact same wavelength, with Hakuba finishing Kaito's sentence here.

Again with the twinning. Kaito has a slightly more clueless look about him, I'd say, but that's because he is out of his depth. Other than that? He's just as much taking Hakuba's lead on the case as he is Shinichi's!

The sheer amount of "Kuroba, your alibi is slipping!"

Hakuba's not going to outright cover for something that might be noticed as a flaw later on, nor is he outright going to call Kaito's disguise out immediately when other things are going on. He is, however, going to tease him to hell and back, push buttons, you name it.

And, of course, Hakuba in hearing Kaito's alibi and seeing Conan back it up, will also know that Conan is on Kid's side here even more than before.

Small and simple observation: Kaito is behind Hakuba.

At this point Hakuba in canon and the Hakuba who knew from the moment he laid eyes on him both know that this is Kaito. It's Kaitou Kid.

The start of the case had the crime get pinned on Kid.

Yet - Hakuba's just fine with Kaito watching his back and/or fully capable of doing whatever he likes behind him, knowing full well that Kaito's a skilled magician who'd be able to hide his actions. The obvious point is that he trusts Kaito.

And then - we get to the Flirtening.

I call it that because in canon it's bad enough, with Hakuba clearly only started making moves on Ran to make Kid slip up.

But in a world where he knows it's Kaito from the start? In Hakukai Fanfic Land?

First off- I'd say that this is actually payback.

Earlier on in the case, Hakuba saw Kaito (as Shinichi) flirting with Ran. Thinking back to the very first set of cases Hakuba ever appeared in, and... he'd walked into class for the first time and seen Kaito being mean to a girl, to Aoko, who was clearly hurting, and then tried to be nice to her by saying, basically, "If he won't take you to the concert you wanted to go to, I'll go with you."

Going on him knowing that this here is Kaito? He'd be seeing Kaito flirting with someone who isn't Aoko, and getting very in character, and... basically going "watch it."

So Saguru is a) defensive for Aoko, b) jealous because oi, why are you flirting with her, when he is right here, and c) using this as a means of poking a hole in Kaito's disguise, because sure he's more interested in the truth than he is in arresting Kaito, but that doesn't mean he's above making life hard for him.

In which case...

Kaito going "What did you say, jerk!!" is just as much "oh shit yeah I'm supposed to be being Shinichi right now" as it is "Hakuba why are you flirting with someone else?"

The reaction would be delayed because a) Kaito knows Hakuba's not interested in Ran, or not interested in girls in general, and b) the sheer amount of "what the fuck is happening. what is going on in front of me here" he'd be feeling.

Because for one thing, Conan's down there making attack dog noises, and for another- d'you think Kaito would just reflexively fall back into poker face if he saw the guy he likes/who he knows is interested in him just easily flirting around? I think that ordinarily Kaito would just be like "eh, that's just Hakuba being Hakuba" but I'm also aware of how fragile Kaito's social connections and relationships often are, as well as the rift between logic and emotion.

After this we have a few different things happening at once.

We have Kaito not having asked which cheek Ran had kissed Shinichi on and gesturing to the wrong one, which Ran instantly notices:

Note that the flashback isn't just for our benefit; we see later on that Ran realises probably in this moment that there's something Wrong with "Shinichi" because how could he forget which cheek she kissed him on?

This being relevant because right before that...

He'd told Ran to not "space out" - but with the weirdness going on between him, Hakuba, and Conan, I wonder if it was actually Kaito who knew he was kind of spacing out here! Like, sure, Shinichi's sending Kaito lines, but in terms of narrative and themes...

And in canon, this is where Hakuba first notices the mike and earpiece that Kaito and Conan are using to communicate. Even in a version where he knew it was Kaito from the start, this would still be where Hakuba realises "Hey, what's UP with that kid?"

Hakuba, in canon: Could it be... that those two...

My headcanon for that is that he was meaning to say "are working together," which is the easiest and most obvious/simple conclusion of his sentence.

Hakuba, in fanfic hc land: Hey, why are they working together? I know I didn't warn him I'd be here, but he could have been working with me. That kid already stole some of my reputation regarding going against you, and now this too?!

Honestly, sometimes I remember the times when Kaito has shown himself able to figure out a trick or even a murder trick more or less on his own or at the same pace as Shinichi, and I see times like this when he's shown as needing a lot more help, and I feel frustrated that Kaito's seeming to be dumbed down a little to make Shinichi look better.

But then, I think about how there's multiple times over the course of not just Detective Conan but also Magic Kaito itself, where Kaito is uncomfortable around murders and dead bodies.

Which then starts to make sense of the times when he relies more on his detectives' wits for things like this; if it's a logic puzzle trick that he can treat as one, then he can keep up. If there's blood and bodies and Someone Died Here, which they did - someone died before his heist could even begin! - then his mind has a hard time, skittering around the unnerving parts and not being able to give the trick the attention it needs.

I'd imagine his thought process goes kind of like "Okay okay so if I could think of anything that'd be really useful (but a guy died a minute ago I was out there and doing normal things and a guy died) yeah but if you don't think smart now it's going to happen again or they won't get caught (oh god what if I can't do it) I have to but-" and... so on.

And back to point, but - Hakuba hasn't really seen Kaito in the direct aftermath of him having seen someone die, when Kaito isn't pretending to be someone else.

Technically, he still hasn't here, because Kaito is Being Shinichi.

Dark Knight had Hakuba arrive on scene late, as Kid was already leaving the scene, and in Twilight Mansion Kid was Mouri Kogoro, so even if his reactions were touched with reality, no one could tell what was Kid and what was Kogoro. Here, Hakuba wasn't the first on scene, and he only sees Kaito once Kaito's had a chance to put his poker face (and a Mask of Shinichi) on.

I'd even say that... this being Detective Conan, we've had a chance to see an entire character development arc between Shinichi and Kaito, even if it is still one-sided and not the healthiest of dynamics. We know that Shinichi's not really going to hand Kaito to the police on a silver platter.

But Hakuba? The irony is that in MK canon Hakuba is KNOWN for calling Kaito with helpful knowledge about his opponent (Golden Eye, infamously) and withholding information that would put suspicion onto Kaito's civilian identity (Midnight Crow, at least). And yet in this heist, because we're a) seeing things from Conan and Kaito's perspective here, and b) we haven't seen what Hakuba would do in this sort of situation before, he seems... more of a threat if he outright found them out than if it were just the police (who they can trick) or Hattori (who Shinichi would be able to shush).

Personally, I believe that Hakuba WOULD have worked with Kaito to come to all of the same conclusions that they came to in canon with Shinichi as the POV. Hakuba's a good enough detective, after all, as we even see him doing this in canon, drawing the same conclusions without Shinichi having to whisper in his ear once.

Is Kaito side-eyeing Hakuba because he knows Hakuba's being a little shit over this but he can't say anything because he can't admit that he knows the guy personally as well as he does? Is Conan flailing because he feels like they've been sussed out?

Or is it more along the lines of "Oh, you think you're so smart, don't you? Soooo clever. Yeah sure, after you've been hounding me all case- but don't think I'll let you have the last laugh"?

And now, I'm thinking of Shinichi hearing some of the familiarity come out in their voices around now, if not before, and he's finally realising "Oh- okay so Kid knows this guy. Not just aware of him, he knows him. Oh. Oh shit."

Fun fact: we do not see Conan again alll the way through the explanation of the fireman's carry that Hakuba is doing with Kaito as his partner. The next time we see Conan, it's after they've pinned the criminal in place.

I find this interesting because... in spite of this being a case that Hakuba is starring in - the guy who is well known for asking "Why did you do it?" - it's the victim's wife who asks that, by way of her "But why did you kill my husband!?" and it's Conan who suggests a potential reason.

In a sense, they've both stolen Hakuba's thunder here, the wife by taking his catchphrase and Conan for taking the words out of the criminals mouth before the guy can admit it himself, in his own words.

(Ironically, Kaito would agree with Conan on this, probably, what with him having said "isn't it your job to figure [motive] out?" but as I've said before, I see worth in Hakuba asking for it in the criminals' own words.)

I feel like both I and other people have probably made all the jokes about the "I've got the stamina to keep carrying you for ages" part that I don't need to rehash it that much, haha.

But I DO have other observations.

Kaito: So, you figured it out, huh... Hakuba: Of course!

Like... even way aside from the fact that Hakuba's probably just internally going "you're SO lucky I like you, otherwise I'd have just pointed out that you just flattened your hair the moment I walked in" there's something this reminded me of.

In the translation here, Kaito trails off on an ellipsis, but... in a way, that's a question. It's literally "So, you figured me out?" except Kaito may well have been expecting it even in canon, so it's no longer a question.

What's the significance of this?

Well.

It brings to mind how Toichi asked "Will you be able to stop me?" and Yusaku said "[Yeah...] of course!"

And of course we know that whatever Yusaku was able to do, it was never enough to stop the legend of Kaitou Kid from growing - and we also now know that he almost certainly knew that it was his brother Toichi right from the start.

In many ways it's meant to show how Kaito and Shinichi have taken up their fathers' mantles and become each other's rival... but this moment of "You found me out?" "Yeah, of course!" shows that Hakuba is just as much Kaitou Kid's worthy rival. He is thematically and narratively Kid's rival.

(And this is where I get my post limit for images, whoops!)

So, yeah. Kaito then has a space of about three [3] panels between Hakuba saying "I know you're Kid" and then Hakuba trying to walk and finding his legs are cuffed together.

I'd also say that in terms of pranks that Kaito (as Kid) has played in order to get out of a Situation, that was... a lot more on the immature roughhousing side than a lot of what he does. So much of his DC appearances relies on... action movie stunts? Stuff that's actually really risky? Because he needs to rely on that. But with Hakuba he doesn't have to. It reads more like play fighting.

(Because Hakuba, he knows, isn't going to attack him with a deadly soccer ball or knock him out midair.)

A thought on why he cuffed Hakuba's legs together like he did even if they're on better terms would also be the easy "Kaito knows that Nakamori is there, knows that Hakuba wouldn't be allowed to carry him all the way to the station, knows that something would go wrong, and almost certainly by this point knows that he shouldn't go out in public as Shinichi. So he's just as much going "yeah nope, not doing that, bad idea on SO many levels" as he is "I don't fancy going to jail today."

And, for an ending note: Hakuba at no point seems frustrated or upset that Kaito got away. Not for one single moment.

If anything, I'd say he's just going "Ah, there he goes again. Look at him go." with a fond look in his eye.

#dcmk stuff #leona rereads dcmk #hakuba saguru #kuroba kaito #this got LONG #hakukai #sort of???? close enough #this is a mess because I started it and then kept going back to it when tired and whoops I'm tired now #so the tone and the sorts of things I picked up on vary massively #hope you all enjoy it though!

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thera-daydreams · 5 months ago

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SCARLET & SHADOW

ᱬ The Darkling x Scarlet Witch!Reader ᱬ

[aleksander morozova x wanda maximoff!reader]

Warning: This will be very canon-divergent, considering that it will be a fix-it fic for the Darkling's story. Will contain elements of violence, manipulation, and gore present in the series. Plus, mentions of depression, trauma, regret (as W. Maximoff) and the inclusion of possible adult themes in the later chapters.

Majority of this will also be based on the Netflix show since I haven't read the entire books yet. There may be inaccuracies and a whole lot of changes. You have been warned!

Otherwise, proceed and enjoy! ♟️🌹

(Sidenote: So... okay. I'm deciding to write this and make it a formal fanfic—as per previous post one and post two—because I seriously cannot sleep with the overwhelming inspiration I'm getting from shipping these two characters. Aleksander and Wanda are practically the same person in different fonts. They both did shitty, selfish things but I need to give them a happy ending. Together. Somehow. And hate it or love it, I firmly believe this idea should be shared to the world. If you know my other JJK fic, you'll know Wanda is an obsession of mine. Also, also, also! Please bear with me if updates are scarce. I'm juggling my academic review, work, another unfinished fic, and my daily fangirling. 🥹)

1. once upon a dream

Aleksander had dreams of you long before he even knew you. Maybe it was the stress of this neverending war. Either way, you weren't real anyway... were you?

(3.9k words)

2. coincidence

The Black General finds himself magnetized by the seemingly inconspicuous gardener in the Little Palace. He gets to know you, contemplating life. Just when he thought you were just a strangely wise, young otkazat'sya woman, he finds out why exactly you decided to work in the Little Palace.

(2.5k words)

3. reflection

You are confronted by a certain Shadow Summoner about your motives in bringing the kids to the Little Palace. He realizes that you've loved and lost so deeply, eerily the same as he had. Perhaps that's the reason why he was so drawn to you; he could see his reflection in your eyes. But the more answers the Darkling got, the more questions he had. Unfortunately for you, Aleksander was a patient and persistent man who would stop at nothing to get what he wants.

(4.8k words)

4. haunted

You were no powerless otkazat’sya, Aleksander finds out the hard way. He’s pushed you too far, and he’s left to deal with the aftermath of the new knowledge he half-regrets he gained. On the other hand, you see something bad about this new world that wished you had never seen.

(6.0k words)

5. ?

(tba)

... more chapters?

Synopsis:

"No more magic." You swore to yourself after the madness that you'd spiraled into; the chaos you'd wrecked upon the Multiverse under the influence of the Darkhold. Now, you had destroyed the Darkhold in every universe.

The last universe that had a Darkhold? Safe. Book of the Damned, gone. It was a land with no heroes, gods, or sorcerers... just... normal people and... Grisha? Either way, it was time for your atonement. Your repentance for your mortal sins.

But when you save and bring three orphaned Grisha children to the Little Palace, working as an otkazat'sya gardener to secretly keep an eye on them, it turns out that a certain Shadow Summoner begins to have his eye on you, instead.

taglist: @idohknow @robertthehoover @the-desilittle-bird @pearlstiare

#thera.writes #the darkling #darkling x reader #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #shadow and bone #multiverse of madness #wandavision #grishaverse.works

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fanfictiongirlie · 2 months ago

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Marvel: Unplanned Chapter Three

Parings: Bucky Barnes x Reader (First person written though)

Description:

"It says...it says it's positive doll" His voice matching mine in a quiet shaky whisper.

"Fuck... I'm pregnant?"

"Yeah doll, you're pregnant"

"Fuck" I whisper.

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Warnings: Mention of abortion, swearing.

Chapter Words: 2,069

(I have the urge for every Marvel fanfic I write to have a seperate timeline where nothing bad happens, and everyone is happy)

A week later Bucky and I made our way to the Doctor's office, we had left the compound separately, not wanting to draw attention to ourselves, Bucky had met me in his car at the end of the incredibly long drive out of the compound.

I hated the doctors, we sat in the waiting room, it was stuffy in here, full of people too, I hated it, but Bucky took my hand in his, holding it and doing that thing with his thumb, stroking the skin of my hand gently, it calmed me down. I could tell he felt nervous too, his knee was bouncing.

"Hey...everything's gonna be alright doll" He whispers to me, there was a few looks from the others in the waiting room, they knew who we were, luckily people were scared of Bucky, and would never come up to him.

"I hate the doctors" I whisper.

"I know doll, I hate 'em too" He whispers back.

Finally we were called in, I pulled Bucky's hand with me into the examination room, the Doctor I hadn't met before, but luckily she was a woman, I smiled faintly to her and she shook mine and Bucky's hand. I climbed onto the table and shut my eyes as the Doctor; Dr. Addams did her checks, once done she gave me a moment to dress. Once done, I sat nervously on the edge of the bed.

"You're definitely pregnant" Dr. Addams spoke. "I'd say around 8 weeks"

I didn't say much, but once Bucky and I could leave we did so, and got into his car. I stayed quiet on the drive home, not caring if anyone caught us getting out of the car together. Bucky followed me to my room, his hand never leaving mine as we did. Once in my room, and my door was shut I turned to him, tears falling down my cheeks again.

"So...we're pregnant" I say, leaning against the closed door of my room. Bucky stood in front of me.

"Yeah, doll...We're pregnant"

"I still don't know what to do" I whisper. Bucky lets out a shaky breath, his hand moving to take mine in his again. He looks at me, his expression a mixture of concern and uncertainty.

"Doll, I don't want to push you into anything, it's your choice in the end, but I just want you to know, that if you decide to keep it, I'm with you" He says, his voice so caring towards me. A few tears slipped from my eyes and onto my cheeks.

"Thank you Bucky" I whisper, as I step forward into his arms.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Over the next week I spent a lot of time alone, thinking over my options. And I spent a lot of time crying, I had no idea what to do... At least I think I didn't. Only one option felt right, as scary as it sounded. I sighed and left my room, I walked through the compound until I found Bucky in the kitchen, along with Steve.. I sighed and walked over to the man.

"Hey, can I talk to you?" I ask him, receiving an eyebrow raise from Steve, probably confused at the kindness in my voice. This was probably the kindest I had ever been to Bucky in front of someone. Bucky stopped his conversation with Steve and looked to me, his eyes narrowed slightly, he studies my features and stands.

"Uh, yeah...sure"

He follows me into the hallway, I walk a bit further, not wanting Steve to hear our conversation. Once alone, I stood and looked up at Bucky.

"I've made a decision" I say quietly. I watch as his face changes into a inpatient expression, his body tensed, he reached forward taking my hand in his.

"Okay...what decision did you make, doll?" He asks, his voice a bit hoarse as he responds.

"I don't feel comfortable terminating...the baby...but I also don't like the idea of giving it away, so I want to keep it" I say confidently. I watch as Bucky's breath hitches in his throat, he said nothing for a few moments, stressing me out further.

"You...you want to keep it? Raise it?"

"I think so...Only if you promise you'll be there for us"

Bucky steps closer to me, his hands coming to rest on either side of my arms, holding me. "Doll, I promise you. I'll be there for you. For you and the baby, you won't do this along, I'm in it for the long haul, I'm never going anywhere"

I smile softly as he rambles, his eyes full of excitement.

"We should probably tell the team...wanna start with Steve first?" I ask, knowing telling the team was going to be...something else. Bucky nods eagerly, he takes my hand in his and pulls me back towards the kitchen. Steve looks at us, a quizzical look on his face as he sees us. He takes a sip of his coffee, which I look at longingly.

"Oh fuck, I miss coffee" I say, off track. Bucky chuckles and nudges me slightly.

"Right, yeah...Steve we have something to tell you" I say, Steve looks at the two of us, his eyes furrowed in confusion as he notices how closely we stood together. I watch as a hint of worry flashes in Steve's eyes, he puts his coffee down on the table, his attention completely on us.

"Okay, what's up?" He asks.

"Well it might be confusing, since Bucky and I are nothing but mean to one another.." I say, my words shaky as I talk.

"Wait... don't tell me, you two...are actually getting along?" Steve asks. I chuckle nervously.

"Not only do we get along...But I'm also pregnant" I say, my voice trembling.

Steve's jaw nearly hits the floor, his eyes flicker between the two of us.

"What? You're...you're pregnant? And..Bucky's...he's the father?" Steve asks.

"Yep" I reply quietly. I watch as Steve's face goes through a range of emotions as he absorbs the information. Surprise, worry, happiness, and confusion all flicker across his features in a matter of seconds. He looks back and forth between me and Bucky several times before speaking again.

"I...I don't know what to say...I had no idea you two were even able to have a conversation without insulting one another...let alone..having a child together" Steve says, his voice a little strong and stern. I shrink a little into myself, feeling a wave of emotions.

"We...we've been sleeping together, for a little while" Bucky says, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

"This is a lot to take in" Steve says, he glances at Bucky, a myriad of questions in his eyes.

"Yeah...I get that" I say, mumbling. I hear as Bucky sighs, he probably knows Steve is close to telling him off, understandable to be fair.

"Bucky, I have to ask...how long has this been going on? And more importantly, when did you two start liking each other?" Steve asks, he reaches up to run a hand through his hair, usually his perfect tidy hair.

"It happened a few months ago" I say first. I look to Bucky seeing a blush creep over his features.

"Yeah...it was...unexpected" Bucky adds.

"It was actually one of our arguments that started...this" I say smirking, fondly looking over at the kitchen counter. Bucky chuckles and nods, a small smile playing on his lips as he catches where I was staring.

"Yeah..we got into a pretty heated argument one night...and somehow, things just escalated from there..." Bucky explained.

"And now I'm pregnant" I say again, taking a deep breath "And I'm an Avenger...Oh fuck, I'm gonna have to stop Avengering"

I whined as I spoke, it hadn't dawned on me yet. I frowned looking at Bucky. I watched Steve chuckle lightly.

"Yeah...I hate to say it, but with the risk involved, it's not safe for you to continue any missions whilst pregnant" Steve explained. I groaned and glared at Bucky. Bucky winces slightly at my look, he takes a step closer to me, raising his hand to my arm.

"Hey doll, it's not my fault! Steve's right, it's too dangerous" Bucky answers.

"It is your fault! You put your penis in me" I argued back. I watched as both Steve and Bucky's cheeks flushed red at my blunt statement, Bucky's eyes widen as Steve chokes on his coffee.

"I...yeah...I can't argue with that" Bucky chuckles nervously.

"I should probably tell Tony" I say groaning. Bucky grimaces, he lets out a low sigh, unsure of what Tony's reaction would be.

"Yeah...Stark's next on the list, he'll probably have a few questions"

"Let's hope he's not mad for losing two Avengers" I say, knowing Bucky would stop missions when the baby was born. Bucky's expression softens a little, he puts his hand on my lower back and pulls me against him.

"Hey...don't worry about Stark, he'll understand" Bucky reassures me.

"Yeah..right I'll go find him" I say, moving away from Bucky, I could tell him and Steve probably needed a chat, I left the kitchen and walked through the compound knowing I'd probably find Tony in the lab, I walked in seeing him and Bruce, I smiled hopping onto one of the stools they had in the room.

"Hi boys" I grin sweetly. They both glanced up from their tablets, smiling when they saw me. Tony walked to me, leaning on the desk in front of me.

"Well, well, look who it is" Tony smirked "Long time no see, what brings you to the lab?"

"I have something to tell you Tony...though Bruce you can know too" I say nervously. Tony raises an eyebrow, a look of intrigue on his face.

"Okay, I'm all ears kiddo"

I watch Bruce put his tools now, he walks to stand next to Tony, a worried look over his face, he could sense my nerves.

"I'm pregnant"

There's a beat of silence as Tony and Bruce process my words. Tony's eyes widen, his mouth falling open slightly. Bruce looked shocked as well, his eyebrows raised in surprise. Tony was the first to speak, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and curiosity.

"You're...you're pregnant. As in...having a baby...pregnant?" He asks. I chuckle slightly.

"Correct, that is what pregnant means" I answer, my sarcasm laced through my voice, the others would always tell me off for my British sarcasm, I couldn't help it however. I watched as Tony rolled his eyes, and Bruce scratched his chin.

"When you say you're pregnant, how far along are you? And..do we know the father?" Bruce asked.

"Uhh like 9 weeks" I say "And...yeah you... do know the father"

Tony's eyebrows shoot to the sky. He glances to Bruce and then back to me.

"I'm guessing it's not some random stranger...right? The father?" Tony asks.

"No..it's uhh...it's Bucky" I admit. The look of shock over their faces made me chuckle slightly. I almost regret keeping what Bucky and I had a secret, I had a lot of shocked looks coming in my future. Both men looked at me in utter shock, like they couldn't believe me.

"Wait..Bucky?! Bucky is the father? Barnes? That Barnes?!" Tony rambled.

"The very one"

Tony and Bruce exchanged another glance, both still in disbelief. Tony was the first to find his voice again, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he finally speaks.

"When...when did this happen? I thought you two couldn't stand each other"

"We've been sleeping together, for a few months...secretly" I explain, my cheeks flushing red.

"Months!" Tony near yells "You've been sleeping together for months? And now you're pregnant?"

"Basically yes" I say, smiling. It still felt weird hearing the word pregnant.

"I've gotta say, I was not expecting that, you really know how to shock us, don't ya?" Bruce chuckles.

"Yeah...sorry about that" I say quietly.

"Well congratulations" Bruce smiles at me, as he takes his glasses off, cleaning them.

"Yeah congratulations, who woulda thought, you and Bucky, together, with a baby" Tony says, his voice still dripping with disbelief.

"Yeah...thanks guys" I say smiling "Sorry about the whole not being an Avenger for a little while" I add with a sad smile, I loved going on missions.

"Don't worry kiddo, you have to look after yourself first" Tony grins.

I smile and hop off the stool, ready to go back to Bucky.

"Thanks men" I say as I turn around to leave.

(I do not consent my works to be posted anywhere else, by anyone other than myself)

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