#him sittin on the ground.........

[gordonsicedcoffee]

(potato qualityᵀᴹ) behind-the-scenes footage of leigh whannell

[aria0fgold]

I've grounded one of my normal Childe shimejis cuz this lil bugger Keeps Multiplying so now he's banned from climbing the screen.

[mondaymelon]

₊⊹ … 99% NOT LOVE ! | kinich x gn!reader

— in which two people notice what two people don't .

— i've gone absolutely batshit over him your honour. im going to now start writing for kinich like a crazed man dying of thirst in the desert. let it be known that streamer!au kinich, enemies to lovers with poacher mc and other ideas are coming up (no im not cheating on xiao shush)

mualani notices it.

"hehe."

and you hear it.

"so! there's a little..." she stares at you with the most serious face you've ever seen on the girl, acting suspiciously unlike herself. gesturing at you with exaggerated hand movements, then pointing toward who knows where, she eyes you. mischievously. "something that's 'going on', yea?"

and at first, you have absolutely no clue what she could be referring to. mualani is a sociable person, after all. her definition of "something" could range anywhere between a particularly cute baby saurian to an out-of-control-bonfire turned wildfire.

with the only eventful thing today being a brief morning surf session with sharky, you just sat there, never having felt more lost.

mualani grabs your shoulders in an iron grip, leaning forward to the point she's almost beginning to seem menacing. you can see the moment where she tries to think over something (which she never does quite successfully) before she straight up shouts:

"ah!! i'll just spell it out for you!! you. and kinich. bestie. spill."

.

.

.

ajaw did more than just "notice" it.

"you..! kIINICH, did you seriously have to-"

"noisy."

"selfish assh- ALMIGHTY DRAGONLORD K'UHUL AJAW HAS HAD ENOUGH OF THE DISRESPECT! TIME AND TIME AGAIN, yOU'VE-"

"once again, ajaw. be quiet."

"sure sure, and pretend i didn't see you and that someone do a little smoochy-smooch, huh?! UGH, now you've asked for it- KINICH AND LOVEY DOVEY, SITTIN' IN A TREE, K-I-S-S-I-N-"

ajaw was what you would call a "witness". though, most would use that term in regards to one seeing a crime or heinous event take place — this event was nothing of that nature.

well, as far as kinich was concerned, the matter was simple. you'd ventured all the way to scions of the canopy to give him a gift, (claiming it was for the time he'd helped you after a couple of yumkausarus hadn't enjoyed your fruit offering and instead decided to off you), and he'd refused to accept it. he wasn't one to receive reimbursement for others, and he didn't particularly like talking either — it was a well-known fact, almost law in natlan, that if the malipo ignored your words, all you need do was apologize and continue on.

well, you did exactly the opposite.

"no thanks."

"...sorry?"

"i don't need it."

"haha, so 'malipo' kinich's rumored no-nonsense nature really proved to be true! now come over here so i can give you my fucking gift!"

you were rather adamant about giving it to him. the reason? you'd bought the gift on a whim after seeing it being sold by a passing merchant, advertised as "80% only today if you buy within the next like 4 minutes" and you'd immediately dropped every mora you had. it was the most useless little thing ever, and you didn't want it at this point, but.. the deals. how could you return such an item???

naturally, you handed it off to the man you'd seen for a good two minutes before he flew, or did whatever his thing was, away. the man had remembered furrowing his brows the slightest, listening to ajaw's persistent yellings of "IT'S AN OFFERING TO ME, TAKE IT" and feeling an oncoming headache. "i said i didn't.."

as he turned to walk away, three unfortunate(?) things occured.

a rock under your shoe and a very graceful process of falling to the ground

kinich looking back (his mistake)

a kiss...?

oh, and two extra.

4. ajaw had saw it all. 5. and mualani, who had saw you from a distance and was coming to greet you, was faced with a sight she could not process.

...Now that he thought over it again, was the matter really "simple"? kinich's job was what he considered simple — split 70% to investigation, 10% to final decision, and 10% to execution, well portioned and planned out.

then, this...

.

.

.

"girlie, you've seriously got the wrong idea. i'm telling you, we aren't dating!"

"mmmokay. of course! because not-dating people kiss allll the time!"

you paused for a moment, remembering kinich's even tone, stern gaze, and... ah, a face that deserved a gold medal.

"it's only 99% not love, okay mualani? but if it wasn't..."

.

.

.

"... and it's 99% not love, ajaw."

(a/n) darling im back from jail part 2. daddys home part 2. not funny? ok. HIHIHIHI ive bene really built like a sun dried raisin lately but kinich is the healing holy water that has saved me i will write more for him in the future because i love him a stupid amount its like the first time in a decade I've written for just ONE character and AND AND

I THOUGHT HE WOULDNT OCME HOME BECAUSE I ONLY HAD 68 WISHES OUT OF MY ORIGINAL LIKE 100+ AND RUINED MY CHANCES BECAUSE OF REALLY REALLY WANTING MuALANI (i love her sm) BUT. BUT BRO CAME HOME. ON THE FIRST 10 PULL AND WON THE 50/50 JUST LIKE MUALANI DID (or is it 45/55 now idk) LIVE LAUGH LOVE KINICH !!

[ tags: ] @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu-archive, @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @aioniela, @avensuersa, @dainsleif-when-playable, @intpessimistic

( dm or comment to be added ! i might miss ur comment so just to be sure, leave a comment on the actual masterlists page on my pinned ^ ^ )

[kbwrites]

Breaking up is hard to do!

synopsis: breaking up with the jjk men.

⚝characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami

⚝content: heavy angst, gaslighting(Gojo's), depression (Suguru's), mutual breakup(Nanami's)

⚝wc: 3.5k

Satoru Gojo

“Yeah so then Yuji popped out of the crate and surprised them all! You should’ve seen it baby!” Satoru wheezes holding his stomach as he recalls the event from the day.

No matter how hard you try though, you can only muster a small smile.

It had become really hard to do much else recently. With the weight of the hundreds of tasks at work taking its toll. Satoru looks over at you, waiting for a laugh—but it doesn’t come.

“Hellooo? Everything alright princess?” He questions giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“Mhmm!” You nod.

He looks at you for another moment, unreadable expression on his face. Satoru shifts, clearly expecting more from you. “You sure? You’ve been quiet tonight. That’s not like you,” he says, his voice still light, but there’s a hint of curiosity now.

You try to hold back the frustration, but it bubbles up anyway. “I’m just tired, Satoru.”

“Tired? Seriously?” he mutters, pulling his hand away. “You work, what, a nine-to-five? You act like you’re running yourself into the ground.”

You blink, taken aback by his dismissive tone. “Satoru, it’s not just about the hours. It’s everything piling up, and—”

“Piling up?” He cuts you off with a scoff, already reaching for his phone. “Why didn’t you just say something sooner? You know I could’ve hired someone to handle that for you. I’ve got the money. You shouldn’t be stressing over... whatever this is.”

The words sting. You knew his mind would go there. It always does—like money could just make the exhaustion disappear, like hiring someone to take care of the smaller details would magically solve everything.

“It’s not about the money, Satoru.” you snap, trying to hold onto your patience. “I don’t need someone else doing my job for me. I just... I need you to listen.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Listen? What do you expect me to say? You’re tired. I get it. But don’t act like you’re drowning when I could have fixed this a long time ago. Hell, I could’ve bought you time off or flown you somewhere. You're sittin' here sulking like I can’t take care of things.”

You clench your fists, the exhaustion now compounded by frustration. “It’s not about you fixing things, Satoru. Sometimes I just need support—not your money.”

He stares at you, eyes narrowing. “Right. So you want to feel miserable instead of letting me help. That’s real smart, princess.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you shove clothes into your bag, the sound of zippers and drawers slamming echoing through the room. You can feel Satoru’s presence behind you, hovering, but you don’t stop. You can’t. Not after that.

“C'mon, princess.” he says, his voice exasperated, like he’s the one who's supposed to be annoyed. “What are you doing? Where do you think you’re going?”

You don’t answer, your hands moving faster, yanking more clothes off hangers, ignoring the sting behind your eyes. You’re so angry you can barely breathe.

“I’ll book us a trip,” Satoru tries again, a hint of desperation creeping into his usually arrogant tone. “How about Paris? We’ll stay at that five-star hotel you like, the one with the private balcony. You love that place.”

Your jaw clenches. “This isn’t about a vacation, Satoru,” you snap, stuffing the last of your things into the bag. “It’s not about your money or your fancy hotels.”

“Then what is it about?” he shoots back, his voice rising with frustration. “You’re acting like I haven’t given you everything. "What more do you want?"

You freeze, bag halfway zipped, your body trembling as you turn to face him. His icy blue eyes are wide, confused, and maybe even a little hurt, but you’re beyond caring. “I want you to see me!” you shout, the words tearing out of you, louder than you intended. “I don’t need you to throw money at the problem! I need you to actually understand what I’m going through!”

Satoru stares at you, speechless for once. His mouth opens, but no words come out. He looks almost... shocked, like he can’t comprehend that his money, his status, can’t fix this. That he can’t fix this.

“Do you even care?” you ask, your voice quieter now, but no less angry. “Do you care about how I feel? Or is it just easier for you to throw cash at me until I stop complaining?”

He’s silent, his gaze hardening as he crosses his arms. “I’m trying to help. What else do you want me to do?”

“I want you to listen!” You throw your hands up in frustration, feeling more alone than ever. “I don’t want your money. I don’t want trips or fancy dinners. I want you to care about me, Satoru. Not just the idea of me.”

His lips press into a thin line, but he says nothing. The silence is louder than any of his words.

As your hand grips the doorknob, ready to leave, Satoru’s voice cuts through the silence, sharp and bitter.

“Right, run off to Shoko’s.” he scoffs, his arms crossed defensively. “You always do this, don’t you? The moment things get tough, you bolt. Guess it’s easier to complain to her than actually deal with me.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, stopping you in your tracks. You turn slowly to face him, disbelief clouding your vision. He’s standing there, arms folded, arrogance in his posture.

“I always do this?” you repeat, your voice trembling with anger. “I’ve stayed through everything, Satoru!"

“You’re just like Suguru.” Satoru spits out, the words dripping with bitterness and desperation.

Your hand freezes on the handle. You weren’t expecting that. Slowly, you turn to look at him, and the mask of arrogance has cracked. His eyes are wild, wide with something close to panic. “Running away the moment things get hard,” he continues, his voice shaking slightly. “Is that it? Just gonna leave like he did?”

Your heart skips a beat, anger fading for a moment as something else stirs inside you. You’ve seen Satoru angry before, frustrated, even cold—but this? This is different.

“That’s not fair.” you say quietly, though the anger still simmers beneath the surface. “I’m not leaving because things are hard. I’m leaving because you’re not listening.”

Satoru’s eyes narrow, his lips pressing into a hard line. Then he snaps, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade, sharp and cold. “Well, fine. Go. I survived him abandoning me, I’ll survive you too.”

His words sting, burning through the air with a finality that makes your breath hitch. It’s a challenge, a defense—his way of masking the fear that’s clawing at him from the inside out. He’s pushing you away before you can leave, just like he’s done with everything else that’s threatened to crack his carefully controlled world.

You stand there, frozen for a moment, staring at him as his walls rise higher, shutting you out. This is what it’s come to. He’s too scared to let you in, too scared to admit that you leaving isn’t something he can just survive—that it’s something that terrifies him.

But he won’t say it. He won’t ask you to stay.

And that’s when you know.

Suguru Geto

You rest under the comfort of your blanket. How many days have you been in this bed? Three days? Four? 

The world was just too much right now, and your room was the only security available. It had been a week since Suguru vanished without a word, leaving behind nothing but unanswered questions and broken trust. Principal Yaga’s words still echoed in your mind—a whole village slaughtered, his parents among the dead. 

And not even a text.

You weren’t sure if he was even alive, maybe it would be better if he wasn’t. At least then you wouldn’t have to come to terms with the fact that the love of your life was now a wanted killer.

You took another tissue from the box, blowing into it and tossing the crumpled mess into the garbage can.

Satoru hadn’t responded either, was he okay? Did he know?

Your mind screamed for silence, for the thoughts to stop, but they kept coming, relentless.

“Angel?”

That voice… no it couldn’t be. You lower the covers from your face.

It was

“Hi baby...” his normally soothing voice does little to alleviate the ache in your chest.

“You…” your voice barely a whisper, threatening to break. “I thought you were dead.”

He moves closer, his footsteps barely making a sound on the floor, and you finally take him in. Despite everything, despite the horrors you’ve been told, he looks… normal.

How could he look so much like the Suguru you knew, the Suguru you loved, when everything inside of you was shattered?

Was this the same man who held you close? Whispered sweet nothings in your ear—promised to protect you with his life? 

“It’s me, (Y/N).”  he says softly, his voice cutting through the silence as if he had read your thoughts.

The tenderness in his tone feels like a knife twisting in your chest. How could he say that—so casually, so easily? Like everything was normal, like your world hadn’t come crashing down around you. You blink, trying to force the tears back, trying to find the right words, but nothing comes.

“Are you?” your voice is small, barely more than a whisper. Doubt lingers in every syllable.

He doesn’t respond to your question. Instead, his gaze softens, and without a word, he pulls the covers off of you. The cold air rushes over your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth you had buried yourself in, and for a moment you flinch, instinctively clutching the blanket before you let it slip from your fingers.

His eyes trace over your fragile form, and there’s something in them—a flicker of sympathy, regret, even—but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s the reason for your downward spiral. He knows it too. The weight of it presses on him, though he doesn’t say a word. Instead, he moves with a gentleness you hadn’t expected, sliding his arms under you and lifting you up as if you weighed nothing.

You want to protest, want to ask what he thinks he’s doing, but you’re too tired, too drained to fight. So you let him carry you. His arms are steady, and despite everything, you can’t help but melt in his embrace.

He takes you into the bathroom, the sound of running water filling the space as he sets you down gently. You can feel the cool tile under your feet as he kneels in front of the tub, turning the faucet on and testing the temperature.

You had so many things you wanted to say. You wanted to yell at him, curse him, ask him why. But you couldn’t.

He dips his hand under the stream, adjusting the temperature until it’s just right. His movements are deliberate, methodical, as if this is the only way he knows how to show you any kind of care right now.

You stand there, numb and silent, watching him. The man who destroyed your world, now kneeling before you, acting as though he can piece it back together with something as simple as a bath. It feels absurd, almost cruel, but at the same time, you don’t have the strength to stop him.

Suguru rises to his feet, his presence towering yet calm as he began to undress you. Gentle hands pulling his t-shirt off of you, the one you had been clinging onto for days.

His hands brush lightly against your skin as he lifts the shirt over your head, sending a shiver down your spine.

He had seen you in this state before, many times. But this….this was different.

Suguru guides you to the shower, washing your body with a gentleness you missed so deeply.

You close your eyes, letting him take care of you, even though you don’t understand why or how he can. The silence between you grows heavier with every passing second, filled with words unspoken and emotions too tangled to sort out.

Finally, you speak, your voice barely audible over the sound of the water. “Why are you here, Suguru?”

His hand pauses for a moment, the washcloth resting against your skin. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you, but when he answers, his voice is low, steady, like he’s speaking more to himself than to you.

“Because I….I love you” His voice almost too quiet, as if he’s afraid to say the words out loud.

“Then why, Suguru?” your voice trembles, almost breaking under the weight of your next words. “Is it true? You killed those people?”

The washcloth falls from his hand, splashing into the water as the silence between you deepens. He doesn’t speak right away, and the hesitation in his silence is an answer in itself.

You swallow hard, the air thick with the weight of the truth you already know but can’t bear to accept.

“They were… in the way,” he finally admits, his voice low, almost hollow.

You step out of the shower, the warm water sliding off your skin in slow rivulets. Without thinking, you reach for the towel, wrapping it tightly around yourself like armor.

This isn’t the man you loved, the one who spoke of protecting the weak, of valuing life. Yet, there’s something so heartbreakingly familiar in the way he says it—like a twisted version of the Suguru you knew, now wrapped in darkness.

“But those were people, Suguru,” you say, your voice fragile, as if you’re trying to reach the man you once knew beneath the monster he’s become. “Innocent people. How could you…?”

He takes a deep breath, stepping closer to you, his hand brushing against your skin, cold and distant. “Because this world is broken.” he murmurs. “And I need to fix it. I had to do it. Can’t you see that? We—sorcerers—we’re meant for something greater. And they… they were holding us back.”

You shake your head, tears brimming in your eyes. “I don’t understand, Suguru. I don’t understand any of this.”

He steps closer, his hand cupping your face gently, as though trying to reassure you with his touch. "Come with me." he whispers, his voice softer now, pleading. “Run away with me. Together, we can build something new. You don’t have to be a part of this broken world anymore. We can leave it all behind.”

Before you can respond, his lips press against yours, a kiss that’s both gentle and urgent, as though he’s trying to pour every unsaid word, every plea, into this one moment. It’s the Suguru you remember—the Suguru who once made you feel safe, loved.

But the reality of who he’s become crashes down on you.

You pull away, your hands pressed firmly against his chest, creating a wall between you. “No.” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I can’t.”

For a moment, Suguru just stands there, staring at you, his dark eyes searching yours for something—some kind of understanding, some sign that you’ll change your mind. His hand lingers on your cheek, his touch softer now, almost hesitant, as though he’s trying to hold on to whatever connection is left.

But then, slowly, he withdraws, his hand falling back to his side. He straightens up, his expression hardening as he steps away from you, giving you the space you so desperately need. The softness in his eyes fades, replaced by the cold determination you’ve seen before.

“You’ll see,” he says, his voice quiet, but there’s a sharp edge to it now. “One day, you’ll understand. When you see what I’ve seen, when you finally understand the truth about this world—you’ll come around. I know you will.”

His words hang heavy in the air, and without another glance, he turns and walks toward the door, leaving you standing alone, trembling in the silence.

Nanami Kento

Kento was an honest man. There was nothing he ever kept from you. Other people might view him as a hard shell, but you could read him like a book.

So when he came to bed that night, holding you just a little tighter than usual—you knew something was up.

You shifted slightly in his embrace, his grip tightening instinctively as if he feared you might slip away.

“Kento?” you asked softly, your voice breaking the stillness of the room. 

“I’ve decided to talk to Gojo tomorrow.” he said quietly, his voice steady but with a hint of resolve. “I want to return to being a sorcerer.”

The words hung in the air, sinking into you like lead. You stiffened, a sharp sting blooming in your chest as you processed his decision.

“Are you seriously considering this?” Your voice trembled with a mix of hurt and disbelief. “You know what that life entails. You’ve seen the consequences. Are you really willing to go back to that danger?”

Kento’s silence was heavier than any response he could have given. His arms, though still holding you close, seemed distant now, as if they were reaching out from across a chasm of uncertainty.

“I’ve thought it through,” he said finally, though his tone lacked the conviction he tried to project. “I need to do this for myself. I can’t keep pretending I’m satisfied with where I am.”

The last words echoed in your ears their weight sinking deep into your heart. “So you’re not satisfied with me?” you whispered, barely able to speak past the knot forming in your throat.

Kento’s eyes widened in shock. “No, that’s not what I meant—”

“Then what is it, Kento?” you demanded, frustration and hurt sharpening your words. “We have something good here. You have a good job. You left Jujustu High for a reason! What about Haibara—”

At the mention of Haibara, Kento’s face hardened. His eyes, which had been searching for the right words, now burned with anger and frustration. “Don’t.”

Your eyes widen at his tone. He sighs, trying to catch himself. “This…isn’t about him, or his fate. It’s about my own path, my own choices. You think I’m risking everything without knowing the cost?”

 “And what do you expect me to do, Kento?” Your voice cracked, raw emotion rising as you slid out of bed, unable to lie still any longer. “Sit at home and worry about you? Not knowing if you’re going to come back in one piece? I can’t live like that! I can’t live every day with the fear that you might not come back, that you might be hurt or worse?”

The silence that followed was suffocating. You paced the room, your emotions boiling over, while Kento sat still, his gaze following you but offering no solace.

“You’re asking me to accept a life where every day is a gamble with your safety!” You stopped, turning to face him, your chest heaving with emotion. “How am I supposed to do that? How am I supposed to pretend everything’s okay when the reality is that you might not come back to me? This isn’t just about you, Kento. It’s about us, our future!”

Kento ran a hand through his blond locks, frustration etched into every line of his face. “I’m not asking you to pretend it’s okay. I’m asking you to understand that this is something I need to do for myself, even if it means risking everything.”

You blinked, tears blurring your vision as his words sank in. “And what if everything we have is the cost?”

The question lingered, echoing in the space between you. Kento rose from the bed, standing tall before you, but the weight of the moment seemed to bow his shoulders.

He stepped closer, his hands trembling slightly as they cupped your face. His eyes, filled with a deep sadness, searched yours, looking for understanding that he knew might never come. “I love you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You need to know that.”

You shook your head, your voice breaking. “But that isn’t enough… is it? It never will be…”

There was a heavy silence between you, the weight of your words pressing down on both of you.

“I… can’t watch you throw your life away, Kento.”

He took a deep breath, the sound heavy with resignation. "Then… we’ve both made our decision."

His hands, which had held you with such tenderness, felt distant as you pulled away. You took a step back, a sob catching in your throat.

He opens his mouth, but no words come out with a trembling breath, he stepped forward and gently pulled you into his arms. The embrace was tender, filled with the weight of finality.

He buried his face in the curve of your neck, inhaling your scent one last time as if trying to imprint it into his memory. The warmth of his body, once a comfort, now felt like a dagger in your chest.

“I’m sorry.” he whispered, his voice strained. The words were barely audible, but the sentiment hung heavy in the air.

Kento lingered for a moment, his hand sliding from your back to gently cup your face. His thumb brushed away the tear you hadn’t realized had fallen, and his expression softened with a promise you weren’t sure either of you could believe.

“I’ll come back,” he whispered, his voice strained but resolute. “Somehow… I’ll find my way back to you. One day.”

You clung to him for a moment longer, feeling the ache of goodbye in every fiber of your being, before he slowly pulled away. Leaving you.

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ mine | tommy hewitt x reader

♡ fandoms; texas chainsaw massacre remake/ the beginning

♡ characters; thomas hewitt

♡ reader; AFAB body description, second person POV

♡ cw; graphic sexual content, implied voyeurism, breeding kink, light daddy kink (just calling him daddy? wasn’t sure what to tag that )

♡notes; i feel the need to apologize for this one lmao. i didn’t intend for this to see the light of day but i felt we needed more smut around here and this was already sittin in my personal folder

i don’t know that I’ve ever posted detailed smut anywhere before? so lmk how i did, i still haven’t even asked to get my friend to beta read so I’m sure There’s Issues.

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

“Oh fuck, baby,” You sighed softly, letting your head roll to the side as you ground on Thomas’ thigh - the mountain of a man pushing his leg up with a huff. Luda-Mae, Monty, and Hoyt had taken a rare trip to their cousins’ place upstate, and left Thomas and yourself in a…sticky situation.

It had already become a war of attrition with you living there, each of you testing the other’s boundaries as you tried desperately not to cross the line. Thomas was allegedly a good, Bible-following boy- and you a shy little virgin . But god, something about Thomas just made you crazy. You needed him- and you’d gotten so shameless that you’d let him do just about anything to you.

That’s what landed you there, trying to entice Thomas and only ending up a squeaky mess as you rode his thigh. He was steadfast for a man years pent up- seeming to find great pleasure in making you unravel without cracking himself. Of course, you had no idea of the hours he spent fucking into his own hand as he imagined you around him, stealing your panties from the laundry bin and palming himself to the sight of you splayed out sunbathing in the yard. Even now you seemed too hazy to notice his cock straining against his trousers, or his fingers dug into the couch to prevent himself from touching your body. The way he trembled as he felt you making a mess on him, the only thing between your slick cunt and his leg your already soaked lacy panties…

His laser focus was broken by something entirely unexpected. You whimpered and hid your face against his chest, mumbling “Daddy- please—“

He wasn’t sure if it was the phrase,the tone, or both that finally broke his resolve- but either way he pinned you against the floral sofa forcefully, snarling like an animal.

“T-tommy- what- I’m sorry—?” You squeaked, seeming utterly confused. Did you even know what you’d said to him?

He growled and quickly signed ‘Again’. You blinked, perplexed look quickly replaced with embarrassment. You whined and tried to hide your face but he snarled again and made you look at him. ‘Again. Now.’

“…daddy. Please. Please I need you. Please—“ You begged, panting weakly as you writhed uncomfortably and unsated.

He rutted against you quickly, moving and kissing your neck sloppily. “Mine,” He rasped quietly, a rare sound even for his partner “Mine. Mine. Mine.”

“Oh my god Tommy- please- I need you to give it to me- I wanna feel you inside-“

He made quick work of his belt, pushing your dress up carelessly and making just as quick a job out of ripping your undies clean apart.

You yelped but replaced the complaint with a blissed out, shuddering whine as he finally rubbed against your bare pussy. “Oh fuck…please- put it in-“

He grunted and pushed your legs back, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours as you felt his weight pressed against you. Even in this moment, he tried his damndest to be gentle, looking your face over for the slightest bit of fear or apprehension. “Tommy, please. Fuck me.” You whimpered out softly.

He pushed in carefully , having to stop only halfway in as you squeezed around him. He was huge, long and girthy and a painful stretch even with you relaxed. He gave a grunt and nuzzled you, hips twitching as he reached between you. Clumsily, roughly, he found your clit and slowly rubbed, purring in approval as you mewled out his name.

He was able to jerk his hips and finally bottomed out with a low groan, face buried in your neck. He held still, taking a ragged breath to try to regain control- but you didn’t want control. You needed him to lose it completely.

“Daddy, please. I want you to fuck a baby into me,” You murmured, letting a desperate whine leak into your voice. It was a bit of a long shot- but he was so possessive. Why wouldn’t he want to breed you?

Thomas’ eyes darkened at the thought and he gave a low noise you could barely classify as he pulled nearly all the way out and snapped his hips, setting a brutal pace.

“Oh god-“ You yelped, bracing yourself on his huge arms as he pounded into you, the entire couch creaking and slamming into the wall at the force. You lost any coherence you had as he again teased your clit, mind blank. You got exactly what you wanted, and it was too much in the best way possible.

You came first- you didn’t know if it was because of his stamina or because even in a frenzy he still needed you to feel just as good. You were almost crying as he continued, overwhelmed and overstimulated - and wrapping your legs around his waist to make sure he didn’t stop for a moment. “Baby please- inside- I want you to finish inside-“ You mewled out in your haze- but damn if you didn’t mean it.

That was all it took, unsurprisingly, for him to thrust one last time and fill you with a snarl. He peppered your face in soft kisses, giving a heaving sigh as he relaxed. You tried to move but he growled, keeping himself firmly inside of you. You blushed a bit as you saw his intense expression “You ah…you really liked when I asked you to knock me up, huh?”

He nodded, huffing at you.

“…you know we have all night to try again, yeah?”

He grunted and finally relented, pulling out and smirking at the sight of his seed dripping down your thighs.

“Tommy baby? I love you.” You sighed sleepily

He looked up quickly and seemed shocked. Man of few words that he ways- and never having dreamed he’d need to learn the sign, he took your hand and pressed it against his chest. Right above the heart. In your mind, there was no better way he could have said it; he loved you too.

[seasprincess]

cowboy!rafe x mayors daughter!reader

part 1 here

Warnings: smut, mdni, unprotected s3x (wrap it), praise, nicknames, nippl3 sucking, degrading if you squint sweaty man

Rafe had spent his evening in a east he usually does when being around you.

His hands in his pants touching himself to the thought of you in that dress.

That god damn dress.

He loves when you wear dresses, which is most of the time if not all.

He loves the way they flow on your body, the way they stop just on your thighs or the way that when you sit down and it rides up a bit it shows him what colour panties you’re wearing. God does it get him hot and flustered knowing what the panties he should be taking off look like. Jesus does he want to take them off. See that pretty pussy of yours.

But he know it can’t happen, he knows he can’t do that.

So he has to stick to his hand.

For now at least.

The sun beams down on your skin as you make your way to your porch. Sitting in that swing seat you got for your birthday. You practically live there.

It’s calming to sit there and just swing back and forth. And it also gives a great veiw of Rafe when he’s chopping up wood for your fire for that evening. Your father really does make that poor guy work. Working any job at this point. But Rafe doesn’t care. He wants this job.

He looks so good with that axe in his hands. Muscles flexing as he cuts the wood. His biceps on show due to his white tank top. Which he decides to take off in that moment. Like he wants to tease you more.

Your eyes are immediately drawn to his abs, the way they glisten from the sunlight and sweat. You could just lick them. Maybe when he’s less sweaty. He looks so good, you could just-

“Darlin’ it’s rude to stare.” Rafe’s voice brings you out of the trance and you look up at his face rather than his other body parts. He just smirks as he watches you swing back and forth. Back and forth.

“I wasn’t staring.” You were.

“Mhm sure.” He says as he takes his hat off to rub his for head of any sweat. Guess he does take the hat off.

“I wasn’t!” You say with a small pout, acting like a spoilt child. Well you are spoiled so that parts right at least.

“You know it’s okay if you were. I don’t blame you.” He says as he places the axe on the ground and starts making his way over to you. His boots clacking on the wooden planks of the decking as he reaches in front of you. He towers above you when you stand up, so when you’re sat down. It’s like a mountain and a rock. He leans against the wall as he puts a toothpick in his mouth and fiddles with it. Looking at you. “So when we riding again sweetheart?”

The nickname makes your heart skip a beat as a small blush forms on your cheeks. Making them pink and rosy.

“Oh um, I don’t know. Don’t mind.”

Rafe chuckles and rolls his eyes as he pushes off the wall.

“God you do give up fast.”

“I’m not giving up!” You retaliate as you sit up straight, defending yourself. “I’m just busy.”

“Doing what?” Rafe quickly says back as he gets closer to you. So close his knees are touching the chair you’re sat in. “Cause you look like you’re just sittin’ down to me, darlin’.”

Rafe’s hand comes to your chin as he makes you look up at him. Eyes taking in every feature of your face as his rough thumb rubs your chin.

“Do you know how wild you drive me baby?” Rafe says as he smirks down at you. He’s decided he’s had enough of your back and forth flirting with no outcome. He needs you.

Bad.

“Hmmm no.” You smirk back. Yes you did know. Of course you knew. But you didn’t think it was that bad. “My dad is out.”

“I know.” He replies before he leans down and kisses you. Softly and passionately. Hes wanted to do this for so long and now it’s finally happening. He’s finally getting his wish.

And of course you kiss back. You’ve been waiting for this hair as long as he has.

“Why don’t you show me that pretty room of yours baby?”

Immediately you spring up and slot your hand in his. Leading him to the room.

He wastes no time to push you up against the door as soon as you shut it. Hands finding the hem of your dress and pulling it over your head.

“So pretty f’me.” He says as his kisses move to your neck, biting and sucking. Causing you to whimper and moan as you squirm in his touch. You’ve needed this so much.

His hand slithers down your body before reaching your panties, earning a gasp from you as his finger brushes over your clothes clit.

“So wet for me huh?” He smirks. Almost like he’s proud of himself for making you like this just from kissing you. “Needy girl.”

Both his hands travel to your hips as he looks at you.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks as he scans your eyes for any doubts.

You quickly nod your head and reply a small “Yeah.”

He smiles before picking you up and laying you on the bed. Undoing your bra.

“Fuck you’re so pretty doll.” He says as his lips attach to your nipple.

You’re just a whimpering mess as you play with his hair. Tugging on it slightly as his hands slowly pull down your pants.

“Gonna fuck you so good sweetheart.”

Rafe discards your panties somewhere in the room before working on taking his jeans and pants off. And in a few seconds he’s naked like you. He climbs onto the bed as he holds out his hand.

“I told you I was going to tech you how to ride.”

You pick up on his words and start straddling him. Looking at him as he places his hands back on your hips.

You slowly lower yourself down onto him with a moan. You’ve imagined this for a while. And he is definitely bigger than how you imagined.

“Fuccckkk baby.” Rafe moans out as you start moving up and down. That good feeling building up every time you go back down. “Taking me so well.”

Rafes hands help you move as he watches where he enters you. This is so much better than he imagined. And gosh has he imagined this. A lot.

Your movements get more difficult as you keep trying to ride him. But it’s just too much for you.

“Rafey.” You say with a slight whimper. Immediately he picks up on it and nods.

“Shhh baby. I’ve got you.” He says before flipping you over and getting on top of you. Smirking above you as he renters you.

You moan again as he kisses the corner of your mouth, his thrusts fast and deep.

He needed this so of course he’s not holding back. “Good girl.”

He places a kiss on your forehead as you grip on his bicep. Steadying yourself as he just watches you.

Rafe lets out a moan as your legs start to shake. His finger slowly rubbing your clit, he wants you to cum. He needs it too.

“Cum baby. Cum on my cock.” Rafe says before placing another kiss on your neck.

It doesn’t take you long to cum after that. Just like Rafe wanted.

His thrusts slow down slightly as his dick twitches before painting your walls with his seed.

“Fuck baby.” He says as he kisses your soft lips. Smiling as he lays down next to you, arm wrapping around you as he pulls you closer.

You may regret this decision later.

a/n: there will be a part three 🥳 Divider- @anitalenia

tags: @littlelamy @maybankslover

[arkhamsbrat]

“what the fuck is wrong with you!?” they yelled at him, almost slack-jawed as he hobbled through the window of their apartment. “want that list alphabetically or chronologically?” he huffed, practically throwing himself into the dining chair closest to him.

“i’m not kiddin’, jason peter todd.” his partner snarled at him. “y’could’ve gotten yourself killed!?” jason held back an eye roll. “don’t be so dramatic, i didn’t…” he droned off when they turned on the news to show a clip of red hood being sent back nearly 50 feet by the explosion he set off himself.

“well…” he started, avoiding their gaze “well!? jesus christ!” they turned away from him, fighting to regulate their breathing, and their temper. jason had explained his life- his childhood to them. they understood why he was so damn stupid. but that didn’t make it hurt any less. “jason, you can’t run around tryin’ta kill yourself anymore. its killin’ me.”

he winced at the hurt in their voice. “c’mere..” they shook their head. “no. mad at’chya. fuckin’ idiot.” he let a small smile peak at the corners of his mouth. “can you be mad at me while i hold you?” a beat of silence passed between the two before they moved over and sat on the ground between his legs, letting his fingers comb through their hair. it was the closest thing he’d get to holding them right now.

“why do you care so much?” he whispered, free hand clutching his rib. they noticed, their hands moving to pry off his armor so they could look at his wounds. “let me see…” they whispered. “care so much because you’re my boyfriend, jason. you expect me to be okay with just sittin’ at home wonderin’ if you’re gonna come back, only to find out you died from the news?”

jason just stared at her for a moment, wheels turning in his head. “didn’t think it was that bad…” he whispered. hes not purposefully trying to get himself killed, but… he always knew it could happen again. one wrong move, too slow… it wasn’t welcomed, just expected.

had he been too reckless? yeah, probably. all the bruises and scars littered across his body were evidence of it. it never crossed his mind to think that it scared them. worried them. “i’ll be safer.” he spoke with a certain finality that they couldn’t help but trust. “ill kill y’myself if you arent.”

it would take time. a lot of it, but jason came home immensely wounded less. some of his bruises even had time to heal. he could see that their nail bed had stopped scarring over. when he came home, their weren’t crescent shaped claw marks in the fat of their arm. sometimes they looked up at him with pride glimmering in their eyes.

maybe keeping himself alive wasn’t too much to ask.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

ℳ𝒶𝓎𝒷𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇

the prologue- piece of shit

Series masterlist

Warnings- mental/physical abuse, neglect, mentions of blood, read at ur own risk

“J.” You sighed in relief when he came out, wrapping your arms around him quickly and tightly.

“Hey, y/n.” He mumbled, returning the gesture.

You all walked outside, your heart sinking with each step.

“I wonder what restitutions gonna be on a 2019 Malibu.”

“I’ll pay it off. All of it. I swear, dad.” JJ said.

“Shit. 30k? When you gonna clear that, big guy? When all you do is smoke weed and hang out on the south side?”

JJ looked at the ground, you worried for him as you both stopped in front of the car.

“Get in the car.” Luke spoke, getting into the drivers. “Let’s go.”

You looked at JJ, giving him a small smile and patting his shoulder before going into the backseat.

JJ sat, Luke staring ahead at the street in front of him.

“Dad, I swear-“

JJ was cut off when your dad lunged at him, punching him. You let out a scream, trying to stop your dad and pull him off, but he just pushed you back into the seat.

Luke got on top of him, JJ struggled against him.

“Thirty thousand dollars! Do you know what you did to me? Damn-“ he yelled, JJ groaning in pain.

You shouted in the back seat, sobbing out your brothers name while your dad and him argued, your dad hitting him multiple times, his blood splattering onto the windows.

You desperately tried to grab your father’s hands, try to pull them away, but he just slapped your hands away, all his focus still on JJ, who he felt had disrespected him.

You shouted and cried, JJ leaning his head against the bloody window as your father finally stopped, leaning back in his seat.

—-

The drive back was Luke shouting at JJ, while you tried to intervene from time to time.

“Dad, that wasn’t his fault, It wa-“

“You, shut up! I told you already, young lady, stop tryna defend him!” He slammed his hand onto the steering wheel, you swallowing the lump in your throat.

JJ had glanced back from the side, shaking his head at you, his way of telling you to stop. When you got back home, JJ stormed into his room, pacing.

You began to follow JJ before your dad stopped you.

“Jesus, stop followin’ him. Go get me a fuckin’ beer. Or two.” He said to you, nodding over to the kitchen. You sighed, going into the kitchen and grabbing two bottles, handing them to him. He popped them open and began to shout again, making you flinch.

“By sittin’ around doing nothing! I’m gonna tell you right now, you are a worthless piece of shit!” Luke shouted.

You felt terrible, scratching at your skin as you looked down at the floor, you felt like a failure of an older sister. Always at your dad’s beck and call- it was why he had a little bit of a soft spot for you. He didn’t hit you as much as he did JJ.

No, he more so liked to throw misogynistic comments at you. Or call you names, or toss insults and scream and yell. But he rarely hit you- only when you did something truly to piss him off.

Like that one time when you showed up to school and had told some counselor about what he did. You were 13 at that time and he never forgot about it.

But JJ always got the worst end of it, he was the one getting hit more than anything, you didn’t know whether it was because of your mom or whether it was because of his rebellious nature.

“Shut up!” He shouted from inside his room, pacing it with his hands tugging at the roots of his hair.

“Your mama knew.”

“Shut up!” He was enraged at the mention of his mom, God he hated it. Your heart sunk at it.

JJ threw things around the room, growling and screaming in anger, they continued to go back and fourth for a while.

“Get your ass in here!” Luke shouted, you watched the two argue again for a while, things escalating until you broke it up.

“Dad, dad, chill out, okay? It’s done.” You spoke, putting your hands on your dad’s chest. He heaved, JJ stepped back away from him.

“Why do you always fuckin’ protect him?” He asked you now, looking down at you.

You didn’t answer, just looked back down to the ground.

“Huh? I asked you a question! Why, y/n?!” He scoffed. You shook your head and began to cry again.

Luke backed away, shaking his head as he sat back down onto the couch.

“God, I raised a bunch of fucking losers.” He mumbled with a laugh, taking another sip of his beer.

Finally, Luke had fallen asleep and you and JJ were left alone out in the living room.

“Jj..” you mumbled, sitting in front of him now with a bandage and some alcohol.

He breathed heavily, not glancing up at you.

“Can you let me clean it at least?” You whispered to him, tears falling down your face again. He looked at you now, and back at his dad.

“Please?” You pleaded, he didn’t say anything as you dabbed his face with a cloth full of alcohol.

“Sorry.” You told him when he winced in pain. He didn’t respond. You grabbed a pink bandaid- the only ones left you had, putting it onto his face and sighing, standing up again.

He wordlessly walked to his room, packing a bag full of clothes and other things. You furrowed your eyebrows, eyes following his every move.

“J?” You questioned when he stood at the door, bag slung over his shoulder. You stood up, going to him now.

“I gotta go, y/n. I can’t be here.” He told you, your hands going to his face, rubbing off the dirt he had.

“What? Jj, I- I mean I know tha-“

“You should leave too.” He told you, you shaking your head.

“I- JJ, I get it, I do, but I- I mean-“

“I gotta go, y/n. I can’t do this anymore. I’m not goin’ to.”

“Are you gonna be back- or- or-“ you stuttered out.

He shook his head. “If you need anything, I’m at John B’s. You know that.” He held back tears of his own.

“Jj, what about- you’re just leaving me?”

“Then come with me-“

“I can’t! I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.” You whispered to him, shaking your head. “I can’t, JJ.”

“I’m sorry.” He said again, pushing your hand away from his face.

“J- JJ- are you serious right now?” You laughed like it was some sick joke, following him outside, he swallowed the lump in his throat.

“JJ!” You shouted as he started his bike and drove away, giving you one last glance.

“Fuck.” You cried out, sitting on the grass, putting your hands over your head. You were completely and utterly alone.

—-

JJ didn’t talk to you for months after that, you’d been busy taking care of your dad and make sure he didn’t end up in jail again.

And you ended up paying off the 30k, slowly and gradually with the money you had saved up for college or a car. You didn’t know what for, really. Just saved it up since you were 10.

Along with that, you’d taken on three jobs. Things seemed okay for a little, you had a boyfriend for a few months, Luke was out of jail, and you had managed to keep three steady jobs for a while.

That was until JJ showed up again, taking the keys to the phantom. Everything changed after that.

[imaginesforfandom]

A Wolverine's Heartache - Part I

Part II Part III

Requested by Anon!!!

Logan Howlett x fem!Reader

She/Her pronouns used

Summary: On two separate occasions, both Y/N and Logan find jealousy within their friendship.

Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of unease that crept up whenever she saw Logan and Jean together. Jean Grey, with her fiery red hair and telepathic abilities, had a magnetic presence that drew people in – including Logan. Y/N had always considered Logan a close friend, but the way he and Jean interacted left her grappling with an unfamiliar emotion: jealousy.

One day, the three of them found themselves in the mansion's kitchen, preparing a meal together. As they chopped vegetables and exchanged banter, Y/N couldn't help but notice the way Logan's eyes lingered on Jean. The easy camaraderie between them felt like a barrier, and Y/N struggled to find her place in their dynamic.

"What do you think, Y/N?" Jean asked, breaking into Y/N's thoughts.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sounds good," Y/N replied, forcing a smile. She busied herself with the task at hand, trying to push away the irrational feeling of jealousy that clawed at her insides.

Logan noticed her distant expression and furrowed his brow. "Somethin' on your mind, kid?"

Y/N hesitated, then decided to be honest. "It's just… I sometimes feel like I'm the third wheel when you two are together."

Logan glanced at Jean, then back at Y/N, a hint of realization in his eyes. "We're just friends, Y/N. You know that, right?"

Y/N nodded, but the knot of jealousy persisted. It wasn't about doubting their friendship; it was about grappling with a longing she couldn't quite put into words. As days passed, the tension lingered, and Y/N found herself withdrawing, avoiding situations where she might witness Logan and Jean's closeness.

One evening, Y/N sat alone in the garden, contemplating her feelings. Storm, sensing her distress, approached and took a seat beside her. "You seem troubled, Y/N. Care to share?"

Y/N sighed, looking up at the stars. "I don't know, Storm. It's just… Logan and Jean, they have this connection. I can't help feeling like I'm on the outside."

Storm placed a comforting hand on Y/N's shoulder. "Sometimes, we create our own barriers. Have you talked to Logan about how you feel?"

Y/N shook her head. "I don't want to cause any problems. They're happy together, and I'm just the friend."

Storm smiled gently. "Communication is the key. You may be surprised at what you find."

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

Logan clenched his jaw as he watched Y/N and Hank engage in a lively conversation across the lab. The two shared a camaraderie that went beyond mere friendship, and it left a bitter taste in Logan's mouth. He had never been one to easily admit his feelings, especially when it came to matters of the heart, but the sight of Y/N and Hank together stirred a deep-seated jealousy within him.

It wasn't that Logan doubted Y/N's friendship or loyalty. Hank was a brilliant scientist, and they often found common ground in their discussions about mutations and experiments. Yet, there was an intimacy in the way Y/N laughed at Hank's jokes and the ease with which they collaborated on various projects that struck a nerve with Logan.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the Xavier Institute, Logan found himself nursing a drink at the mansion's makeshift bar. Y/N and Hank were engrossed in a lively debate in the corner, their laughter rising above the low hum of conversations.

Storm, sensing Logan's unease, joined him at the bar. "Something on your mind, Logan?" she asked, her keen eyes noting the tension in his posture.

Logan grunted, taking a swig of his drink. "Just ain't sittin' right with me, that's all."

Storm followed his gaze to where Y/N and Hank were still deep in conversation. "Y/N values her connections with all of us. Hank is a friend, nothing more."

Logan's gaze hardened, his knuckles white around the glass. "I know that, Storm. It's just…damn it, I can't help feelin' like I'm playin' second fiddle to that furball."

Storm raised an eyebrow, her expression softening. "Jealousy, Logan?"

He scoffed, avoiding eye contact. "Ain't my style."

But Storm saw through the facade. "Maybe it's time to talk to Y/N. Let her know how you feel. Communication can clear the air, my friend."

Logan grunted again, mulling over Storm's words. As the night wore on, the tension between him and Hank remained unspoken, simmering beneath the surface. Little did Logan know that the impending tragedy on the horizon would soon force him to confront his feelings, revealing the depth of his emotions in a way he had never anticipated.

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

second part should be out tomorrow!! thank you again to the Anon that requested this 😊 i hope you don't mind that i'm including both of the requests into one fic!

[b1mbodoll]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTL2s1xXd/

OKAY BUT LIKE. WHO IN ENHA?

pairings: lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, park sunghoon, kim sunoo, and yang jungwon x f! reader

warnings: groping + oral + exhibitionism kinda

💌: link ☆ um warning: bimbo tries to write hot biker! en- scenarios without knowing anything abt motorcycles!!!! can u sit in front of the person driving the bike?? idk!!! but it’s hot in this so wtvr!! hope u like this, sweetheart <3

likes to be groped: heeseung + sunghoon + sunoo

does the groping: jake + jay

likes to be groped / does the groping: jungwon (sunghoon too!! the hoonie brainrot is bad, sue me!!!!)

hee, hoon n noo like when you feel them up n it makes them so desperate to get home n fuck you <3 for heeseung and sunghoon, it drives them crazy when you teasingly run your hand along their toned stomach, even going as far as to rub their cock softly, enough to get them all worked up but not enough to make them cum. they’ll play it off n act all nonchalant but they’re rly fightin off a halfie n planning to make you beg for them; these two want you pawing at their thighs n whining for their cock when you’re alone. sunoo however, isn’t afraid to let you know what you do to him. you know how much he likes it n he’ll happily let you feel him up the whole ride, rewarding you as soon as you step foot in your bedroom by eating you out like your pretty cunt is his last meal on earth. when sun finally buries his cock inside of you, he needs to feel you running ur hands along his body. whether it’s you grasping at his back or squeezing his broad shoulders to ground yourself as he pounds your sensitive pussy, he lives for it.

jake and jay like sittin behind you, pressing their toned chest right up against your back, revving the engine every now n then to stimulate your sweet lil cunt when it rumbles beneath you. if ur at a redlight, don’t be surprised when a firm hand squeezes your tits harshly, digging their fingers into the soft flesh. you can feel their chuckles at your surprised gasp, heat rising to your cheeks bc there are cars around you n he feels absolutely no shame. you’re his gorgeous girl, how could he pass up the opportunity to feel you up? they love sitting behind you bc as you watch his large hand wrap around the handles n control the bike it nearly has you drooling, unknowingly pressing against his semihard cock bc you need to feel them inside of you.

jungwon, in my opinion, likes both of these things because it’s you <3 he feels up his cute lil gf while you’re sat in front, lookin pretty just for him bc he’s obsessed with the sight of you on his bike and he can’t get enough of you, eager to feel you n touch you n make you want more, til you’re desperate to feel him rubbing your clit n fingerfucking your pussy even though he can’t do anything at the moment. if you’re behind him though, feel free to do whatever you want. squeeze his cock n giggle when he grunts, accidentally driving a bit recklessly bc of it 🤭

[pandapetals]

Reminisce

You and Logan reminisce about the early days of being married.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - married couple, cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

divider credit: @enchanthings

The garden was bathed in soft, silvery light, the moon hanging low in the sky, casting gentle shadows across the path. You and Logan walked hand in hand, the cool night air whispering through the leaves, carrying with it the faint scent of jasmine and earth. The quiet hum of crickets filled the space between your words, a perfect, tranquil counterpoint to the soft rustling of your footsteps against the stone path.

After a long day of teaching, grading papers, and juggling the usual chaos, moments like this—just the two of you, alone under the stars—felt like a rare treasure. Logan’s thumb brushed absently over the back of your hand, a gesture so small yet so grounding, reminding you that, even in the stillness, you were his.

"I needed this," you sighed, leaning into his warmth as your shoulder brushed against his. "It’s like the whole world disappears out here."

Logan let out a low, contented hum, his fingers tightening slightly around yours. "Yeah. Thought you could use a little quiet," he murmured, his voice soft, gravelly. "You were lookin’ a little stressed earlier. Thought I’d drag you out for a walk."

"Dragged me?" you teased, glancing up at him, your lips quirking into a smile. "Pretty sure I came willingly."

He chuckled, that deep, familiar sound that always made you feel like everything was right in the world. "Well, I wasn’t gonna let you get away with sittin’ at that desk all night, grading papers ‘til you fall asleep on them again."

You laughed, the memory of that happening just last week making your cheeks flush slightly. "Okay, fair. But if I remember correctly, you were the one who carried me to bed without waking me up."

Logan grunted, a soft smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah, well, figured you’d had enough."

The two of you continued walking, the gentle rustle of leaves overhead blending with the distant chirp of crickets. The moonlight cast long shadows across the garden, turning the world into something ethereal, dreamlike. You could feel the day’s tension melting away, replaced by the quiet contentment that only came when you were with him.

After a while, Logan broke the silence, his voice a little softer, more thoughtful. "You remember when we first got married?" he asked, his thumb still tracing lazy circles on the back of your hand.

You smiled, tilting your head as you thought back to those early days. "How could I forget? You were always trying to cook for me, even though you’re terrible at it."

Logan let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Wasn’t that bad," he grumbled, though you could hear the humor in his voice. "Besides, I remember someone tryin’ to teach me how to make pasta from scratch."

"Oh, that was a disaster," you laughed, giving him a playful nudge. "Flour everywhere. I think we found some in your hair for days afterward."

"Yeah, but it was worth it," he replied, his voice dipping into that familiar, tender tone. "You looked so damn happy, even though we ended up orderin’ pizza."

"I was happy," you said softly, squeezing his hand. "Still am."

Logan’s gaze softened as he looked down at you, the moonlight catching the faint white streaks in his hair. There was a warmth in his eyes, something deep and steady, the kind of love that had grown over time, through quiet nights like this and chaotic mornings where you were both rushing out the door.

"You always knew how to keep things... interesting," you teased, a playful smirk dancing on your lips as you remembered another moment from your early days as newlyweds. "Like that time you insisted on building that ridiculous bookshelf instead of buying one."

Logan huffed, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward. "Hey, it wasn’t ridiculous. It just... didn’t turn out exactly the way I planned."

"Didn’t turn out?" you laughed, stepping in front of him and walking backward as you faced him. "Logan, it was leaning so far to the left that even the books were trying to escape!"

He chuckled, pulling you closer as he stopped in his tracks, his arms slipping around your waist, holding you against him. "Alright, alright. So, I’m not the best with a hammer," he muttered, his lips brushing the top of your head. "But at least I’m good at somethin’, right?"

You smiled, resting your hands on his chest as you leaned into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. "Yeah, you’re pretty good at a few things," you admitted playfully, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "Like dragging me out for moonlit walks when I need them most."

Logan’s gaze softened, his rough hands sliding up your back, settling at the small of your waist. "Well, somebody’s gotta take care of you," he murmured, his voice low and warm. "Besides, you take care of me every day, darlin’."

You smiled, a quiet kind of happiness filling your chest as you rested your head against his shoulder. The garden was still, save for the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze and the distant hum of night sounds. In moments like this, it was easy to forget the outside world, to just be here—together.

After a moment, you asked, your voice soft against the quiet night, "Do you ever miss those early days?"

Logan was quiet for a moment, his arms tightening around you just a little. "Nah," he said, his voice thoughtful. "I mean, sure, they were good days. But this—" he gestured around, his hand brushing against your back—"this is better. I like where we are now. I like us now."

You felt your heart swell at his words, warmth spreading through your chest. "I do, too," you whispered, your fingers curling gently into his shirt. "Even if you can’t cook or build a bookshelf to save your life."

Logan laughed, the sound vibrating through his chest, and you felt his lips press against the top of your head again. "Guess I’ll stick to what I’m good at, then," he teased, his voice a low rumble.

"And what’s that?" you asked, pulling back just enough to look up at him, your eyes meeting his.

Logan’s smile softened, his hand coming up to cradle your cheek as he leaned down, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Lovin’ you."

Your breath caught, the simplicity of the words hitting you in a way that left you speechless for a moment. You smiled, your hand coming up to cover his as you leaned into his touch. "You’re pretty good at that," you murmured, your voice barely audible.

In the quiet of the garden, under the moon’s gentle light, Logan kissed you, slow and tender, as if to prove his point—no embellishments, no historical accuracy needed, just the simple, undeniable truth of the love you shared.

[azrielmasterlist]

His Shadows & Their Starlight

Storyline:-(Ver.2.0) Azriel is sitting next to Elain as you sit by the fireplace reading. You've been staying with Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand for the past two months in Velaris. You're a mortal but Rhysand says you have different abilities that no mortal should be able to have. For example, winnowing or teleporting. Azriel is in love with Elain Archeron even though Elain already has a mate.

Word count:- 1.7k

Warnings:- Insecurity, Lonliness, Jealousy, Angst.

Series:- Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Chapter 4: The Shadow's Embrace

Isla's POV

The weight of Velaris pressed against me, invisible yet suffocating.

It wasn’t the city itself—Velaris was beautiful, a sanctuary carved out of light and dreams. It was the expectations, the constant reminder that I was living in a world far beyond my own. Powers I didn’t understand coursed through me, untamed and unpredictable. Most days, I felt like a child stumbling through the dark, reaching for something solid but finding only shadows.

And yet, it was the shadows that seemed to understand me the most.

Azriel’s shadows had become a constant presence in my life. They moved around me like silent sentinels, their dark tendrils curling in ways that felt almost… affectionate. They offered a solace I didn’t think I deserved, a quiet reminder that I wasn’t as alone as I felt.

But Azriel himself—he was another story.

I found him in the training yard one morning, his back to me as he worked through a series of precise movements with his blades. His wings flared slightly with each strike, the muscles in his back rippling under the soft light of dawn.

For a moment, I simply watched him, my heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with fear.

“Are you going to stand there all morning?” His voice was low, tinged with the faintest hint of amusement.

I flushed, stepping into the open. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Azriel lowered his blades, turning to face me. His expression was unreadable, as always, but his shadows stirred at the edges of his form, shifting like they were pleased to see me.

“You’re up early,” he said, his tone neutral.

I shrugged, wrapping my arms around myself. “Couldn’t sleep.”

He nodded, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary. Then, without a word, he gestured for me to join him.

Training with Azriel was… intense. He didn’t coddle me, didn’t treat me like the fragile mortal everyone else seemed to see. He pushed me, challenging me to face my fears and my limits.

But today, I wasn’t up for it.

Halfway through our session, I dropped to the ground, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. “I can’t,” I said, my voice cracking.

Azriel stood over me, his brow furrowed. “You’re stronger than this, Isla.”

“Am I?” The words came out harsher than I intended, but I didn’t care. “Because I don’t feel strong. I feel lost. Like I don’t belong here. Like I’m drowning.”

For a moment, Azriel said nothing. Then, slowly, he crouched down in front of me, his shadows curling around us like a protective cocoon.

“You’re not drowning,” he said softly. “You’re learning how to swim.”

The words hit me harder than I expected, and before I could stop myself, tears filled my eyes.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I whispered.

Azriel didn’t respond, but his shadows moved closer, brushing against my skin like a gentle caress. I closed my eyes, letting the sensation wash over me. It was like being held, like being wrapped in a warmth I hadn’t realized I needed.

For the first time in weeks, I felt safe.

But when I opened my eyes, Azriel was gone.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

That night, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. About the way his shadows had comforted me, the way they seemed to know exactly what I needed.

It wasn’t just the shadows, though. It was Azriel himself. He was distant, yes, but there was a depth to him that I couldn’t ignore. A quiet strength that drew me in, even when he tried to push me away.

I found him in the library later, sitting alone at a table with a book in his hands. His shadows were restless, shifting and curling around him like they couldn’t decide whether to settle or flee.

“Am I interrupting?” I asked, hesitating at the edge of the room.

Azriel looked up, his expression guarded. “No.”

I took a deep breath, crossing the room to sit across from him. “Thank you,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“For what?”

“For earlier,” I said, meeting his gaze. “For being there when I needed someone.”

His jaw tightened, and he looked away. “It was nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing,” I insisted. “You didn’t have to stay, but you did. And your shadows…” I trailed off, unsure how to put it into words.

Azriel’s gaze snapped back to mine, something flickering in his eyes. “They shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not their place.”

His words stung, but I refused to back down. “Maybe it’s not their place, but they did it anyway. And I’m grateful for it.”

Azriel shook his head, standing abruptly. His shadows swirled around him, agitated. “You don’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me,” I said, standing as well. “Help me understand.”

He turned away, his wings tensing. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you make me feel things I’m not supposed to feel!”

The words burst out of him, raw and unguarded. For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of his confession hanging between us.

“I didn’t ask for this,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I didn’t ask for any of it.”

“Neither did I,” I said softly.

Azriel’s shoulders slumped, and for a moment, he looked more vulnerable than I’d ever seen him. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely audible.

Before I could respond, he was gone, his shadows trailing behind him like a dark tide.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

In the days that followed, I found myself avoiding him, unsure of how to face the emotions his words had stirred within me. But his shadows—they didn’t seem to understand the concept of distance.

They were always there, always reaching for me in moments of quiet. They were my comfort, my solace, even when their master couldn’t be.

Slowly, I began to realize that they weren’t just shadows.

They were Azriel’s heart, laid bare in a way he couldn’t bring himself to show.

I didn’t know what it meant, this connection we shared. But I knew one thing for certain: I wasn’t ready to let it go.

Taglist:-

@donnadiddadog @wintersquirrel @rcarbo1 @onebadassunicorn-blog

[wolvietxt]

𝓒HAPTER 𝓕OUR !

series masterlist     taglist form  pairing : logan howlett x reader warnings : jealousy, mentions of food + cooking together, fluff, slightly suggestive, light angst, fluff, happy ending  wc : 4.6k a/n : this is a weird little chapter, the storyline isn’t really clicking in my head anymore, so enjoy this last chapter which is just little snapshots into their relationship😖

logan hadn’t left your side all day.  

it wasn’t subtle - not the way his hand found the small of your back when you passed in the hallway, or how his rough voice softened whenever he addressed you. he’d been like this since last night, a quiet intensity in his actions that you couldn’t quite name but felt deeply. it was comforting and overwhelming all at once.  

you sat together on the couch in one of the x-mansion’s quieter lounges, where the fire crackled in the hearth, painting the room in a warm amber glow. no one else lingered nearby, the hour late enough that the mansion had mostly gone still. logan had been uncharacteristically patient as you sifted through a book - not actually reading, just needing something to occupy your hands. his arm rested along the back of the couch, close but not quite touching you.  

"you’re awfully quiet tonight, sweetheart," he finally said, his voice a low rumble that broke the silence.  

the endearment caught you off guard - not because he hadn’t used it before, but because it was still so new, still carried so much weight. your chest tightened, though not unpleasantly, and you glanced up at him, his sharp gaze already on you.  

"just tired," you murmured. it wasn’t untrue, but it wasn’t everything either.  

logan shifted closer, the couch dipping under his weight. his hand reached out, rough fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. "you thinkin’ too much again?" he asked, his tone edged with gruff concern.  

you smiled faintly, unable to help it. "i guess so."  

his brows furrowed, his thumb trailing briefly along your cheekbone. "listen," he began, hesitating for a moment before continuing, "i know i ain’t been... easy. but i mean it when i say i’m tryin’, darlin’."  

your heart ached at the raw honesty in his voice. logan didn’t apologize often - he wasn’t wired that way - but this wasn’t about the words. it was about the way he looked at you now, the vulnerability hidden beneath his tough exterior.  

"i know you are," you said softly.  

he exhaled, shoulders relaxing as if your acknowledgment eased something deep inside him. "good. ‘cause you mean too damn much to me to screw this up."  

your breath hitched, the weight of his admission settling over you. it wasn’t poetic or perfect, but it was logan - real, unfiltered, and entirely sincere.  

unable to find the right words, you leaned into him instead, your head resting against his shoulder. his arm came around you instantly, pulling you closer, his hold firm but gentle.  

"you’re not screwing anything up," you said after a moment, your voice muffled against his shirt.  

logan chuckled, the sound low and warm. "guess we’ll see ‘bout that."  

he didn’t let you move far from him after that. his hand stayed firm against your side, as if anchoring you, while his other came up to rest on your knee. it wasn’t possessive - just solid, grounding. you wondered if he even realized how much he did that, how his instinct was always to make you feel safe.  

the firelight flickered in his eyes, softening the usual sharpness there. he shifted slightly, angling himself to see you better. "yer too hard on yourself, y’know," he muttered, the words almost grumbled, like they were difficult for him to admit.  

you blinked at him, confused. "what do you mean?"  

"i mean you’re sittin’ here, lookin’ like you got the weight of the damn world on your shoulders," he said, his thumb absently brushing a slow circle against your knee. "you don’t gotta carry everything by yourself, darlin’. not when i’m right here."  

the quiet conviction in his voice undid something in you. logan had always been the kind of person to fix things with his hands, to fight or protect or mend in ways that didn’t rely on words. but tonight, he was saying exactly what you needed to hear.  

you didn’t realize you were crying until his fingers caught a stray tear on your cheek.  

"hey," he said softly, leaning closer. "what’s all this for?"  

you shook your head, a watery laugh escaping despite yourself. "i don’t know," you admitted, wiping at your face with a shaky hand. "just... everything, i guess."  

"aw, c’mere," he murmured, pulling you fully into his lap without hesitation.  

you didn’t resist, letting him wrap his arms around you completely. he tucked your head under his chin, his hands running soothingly up and down your back.  

"you’re somethin’ else, sweetheart," he said quietly, his breath warm against your hair. "don’t know how you put up with me."  

"you’re not as bad as you think," you whispered, your fingers curling into his shirt.  

logan huffed a laugh, low and rough, and you felt it vibrate through his chest. you stayed like that for a while, the room quiet except for the crackle of the fire and the steady rhythm of his breathing.  

when you finally pulled back to look at him, his hand came up to cradle your face again, his thumb brushing over your cheek. his expression was softer than you’d ever seen it, an openness there that made your heart ache in the best way.  

"you okay now?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.  

you nodded, leaning into his touch. "yeah. thanks to you."  

logan’s lips quirked into a small, crooked smile. "good."  

he kissed your forehead then, slow and deliberate, as if sealing the moment between you.  

"c’mon," he said after a beat, his arms still loosely around you. "let’s get some sleep. i’ll stick close, just in case you start overthinkin’ again."  

you laughed softly, letting him guide you to your feet. "you sure you’re not just making excuses to stay near me?"  

logan raised a brow, smirking. "damn right i am."  

and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself believe that things could really be this good.  

logan’s hand lingered on yours longer than it should’ve when you passed him a cup of coffee the next morning. it was a small gesture, fleeting, but it sent a warmth through you that had nothing to do with the steaming drink. his touch was rough, calloused, yet careful, as if he was afraid of pushing too hard.  

“thanks,” he mumbled, his voice gravelly from sleep.  

“don’t mention it,” you replied, flashing him a soft smile. you weren’t used to mornings like this - quiet and unhurried, where logan wasn’t already halfway out the door or brooding in some corner.  

he sat across from you at the table, his gaze flickering between the mug and the window. the sunlight caught on the silver streaks in his hair, softening his usual sharpness. you didn’t say much; you didn’t need to.  

the silence between you had shifted - no longer heavy with unspoken tensions but something... lighter. 

you found yourselves alone in the training room later that day, an accidental coincidence, or maybe not.  

“you’re getting sloppy,” logan said, his tone gruff but without the usual edge.  

you rolled your eyes, leaning on the padded wall to catch your breath. “says the guy who hasn’t sparred me in weeks.”  

he smirked, stepping closer, his shadow falling over you. “you sure you’re ready for me?”  

“always.”  

the first hit came quick, but you dodged it, twisting away with a grin. sparring with logan wasn’t just training; it was a dance, a test of wit as much as skill. and for the first time, it felt like you were evenly matched - not just in the ring but in how you read each other.  

he pulled his punches just enough, and you met his strikes with the same restraint. when he caught you around the waist, pinning you down to the mat, his breath warm against your ear, you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you.  

“what’s so funny?” he asked, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes.  

“you’re holding back,” you teased, still trapped beneath him.  

“don’t get used to it, baby,” he shot back, the nickname slipping out like second nature. his eyes widened slightly, as if realizing what he’d said, but he didn’t take it back.  

instead, he released you and stood, offering you a hand up. when you took it, his grip was firm but not rough, steadying you as if he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t fall.  

“same time tomorrow?” you asked, trying to ignore the way your heart was racing.  

he nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “yeah.”  

that night, you found him in the library, a glass of whiskey in his hand and an old book on the table in front of him. he didn’t look up when you entered, but you could feel the shift in the air, the way his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly.  

“mind if i join you?”  

he shrugged, gesturing to the seat across from him. “free country.”  

you sat down, pulling a book off the nearest shelf more for show than anything else.  

“you always this friendly after sparring?” you asked after a moment, your voice light.  

logan chuckled, low and rough. “depends on the company.”  

you raised an eyebrow. “so i’m good company now?”  

he didn’t answer, but the faint smirk on his face said enough.  

for the next hour, you sat in companionable silence, the crackle of the fire the only sound. every now and then, you’d glance up to find him watching you, his expression unreadable but softer than usual.  

when you finally got up to leave, he spoke, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “sleep well, darlin’.”  

it wasn’t much, but it was enough to send you to bed with a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the fire.  

days turned into weeks, and the fragile bond between you grew stronger with each passing moment. logan wasn’t one for grand gestures, but he didn’t need to be. it was in the little things - the way he’d save you the last cup of coffee in the morning or how he’d linger just a second longer when your hands brushed.  

he still had his rough edges, still growled and grumbled more often than not, but there was a softness beneath it all, a quiet care that he didn’t try to hide anymore.  

and you? you found yourself falling into a rhythm with him, a push and pull that felt as natural as breathing.  

one evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you found yourselves on the porch, the world bathed in golden light.  

“you ever think about just... getting away?” logan asked, his voice thoughtful.  

you looked at him, surprised. “getting away from what?”  

“all of it,” he said, gesturing vaguely. “the missions, the danger, the... noise.”  

you considered his words, your gaze drifting to the horizon. “sometimes,” you admitted. “but i don’t think i’d ever stop looking over my shoulder.”  

“yeah,” he muttered, his jaw tightening. “me neither.”  

you placed a hand on his arm, your touch light but grounding. “but we’re not alone, logan. we’ve got each other, right?”  

he looked at you then, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the truth in your words. after a moment, he nodded, his hand covering yours.  

“yeah,” he said quietly. “we do.”  

and for the first time, it felt like maybe, just maybe, the both of you were exactly where you were meant to be.  

logan’s lips crushed against yours the moment you closed the door to his room. it wasn’t the first time you’d stolen a few moments together like this, but tonight felt different - more urgent, more consuming. his hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him, the heat of his body searing through the thin fabric of your shirt.  

“you’ve been drivin’ me crazy all day, darlin’,” he muttered against your mouth, his voice low and rough. the words sent a shiver down your spine, and you tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.  

“yeah?” you teased, breathless. “what’re you gonna do about it?”  

logan didn’t answer with words. instead, he backed you up against the wall, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a heated path in their wake. your head tilted back, a soft gasp escaping you as his teeth grazed your skin.  

“keep quiet,” he murmured, his voice barely above a growl. “walls ain’t exactly soundproof.”  

you bit your lip, trying to stifle a laugh, but it quickly turned into a quiet moan when his hands slid under your shirt, his touch rough but careful. he kissed you again, deeper this time, and you could feel the tension in his body, the restraint he was barely holding onto.  

you were just about to lose yourself completely when the doorknob rattled.  

“logan? you in there?”  

both of you froze, your heart leaping into your throat. scott’s voice was unmistakable, and it was far too close for comfort.  

logan pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he muttered a string of curses under his breath.  

“stay quiet,” he mouthed, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of annoyance and amusement.  

“logan, we’ve got a situation downstairs,” scott continued, his tone impatient.  

“yeah, yeah,” logan called back, his voice gruff. “gimme a minute.”  

you clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle a laugh, and logan shot you a warning look that was entirely undermined by the faint smirk tugging at his lips.  

“you’d better not be doing anything stupid,” scott added, his footsteps retreating down the hall.  

as soon as the sound of his boots faded, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, your shoulders shaking with silent laughter.  

logan shook his head, a grin breaking through his usual scowl. “you think this is funny?”  

“a little,” you admitted, though your cheeks burned with embarrassment.  

he leaned in again, his lips brushing against yours in a way that made your knees weak. “then maybe you need a reminder to keep that mouth of yours quiet next time.”  

your laugh dissolved into another kiss, and this time, neither of you cared about the risk of getting caught.  

you were laughing, leaning on the kitchen counter as bobby attempted some ridiculous story about his latest stunt with his ice powers. the way you lit up the room - head tilted back, eyes crinkled with amusement - was magnetic. you always had that effect, drawing people in like moths to a flame.

logan had walked in moments earlier, unnoticed, and the sight of you surrounded by laughter hit him like a sucker punch. it wasn’t your laughter, though. it was bobby’s face - bright, playful, maybe a little too damn charmed by you - that set his teeth on edge.

“funny guy, huh?” logan’s gruff voice cut through the chatter, his presence suddenly filling the room. the atmosphere shifted immediately. you glanced up at him, smiling instinctively, but his expression was unreadable.

“logan,” you greeted warmly, though there was a flicker of confusion in your eyes. “what’s up?”

“just passin’ through,” he muttered, arms crossing over his chest as he leaned against the doorframe. his gaze flicked between you and bobby before landing firmly on the latter. “don’t let me interrupt.”

bobby blinked, glancing at you and then back at logan. “uh, no, you’re good. i was just telling her about the - ”

“yeah, i heard,” logan cut him off, voice flat. “guess you’ve got a knack for stories.”

you frowned, catching the sharp edge in logan’s tone. “bobby was just being funny,” you said lightly, trying to defuse whatever this was. “it’s nothing serious.”

logan’s jaw tightened, his eyes flickering to yours. “sure doesn’t look like nothin’,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to catch.

bobby, either oblivious or too nervous to address the tension, quickly excused himself. “uh, i’ve gotta go... do, uh, something. catch you later!” he darted out, leaving you and logan alone in the now-silent kitchen.

“what the hell was that?” you asked, crossing your arms as you turned to face him.

logan shrugged, nonchalant. “what was what?”

“don’t play dumb,” you said, your voice tinged with exasperation. “you were acting... weird.”

he scoffed, pushing off the doorframe. “wasn’t actin’ any kinda way.”

“logan.” you stepped closer, searching his face. “if you’ve got something to say, just say it.”

he avoided your gaze, tension radiating off him. “don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

you sighed, frustration bubbling up. “why are you acting jealous?”

his head snapped toward you, eyes narrowing. “jealous? me? of that kid?”

“yes, you,” you said, throwing your hands up. “you don’t need to be. bobby’s just... bobby. he’s a friend.”

logan’s expression darkened, his voice low. “didn’t look like ‘just a friend’ from where i was standin’.”

you stared at him, incredulous. “are you serious right now? bobby and i were literally just talking.”

“yeah, well, maybe i don’t like the way he looks at you,” logan snapped, his voice rougher than he intended. the words hung in the air, heavy and unspoken for a beat too long.

you softened slightly, stepping closer. “logan,” you said, gentler now. “you don’t have to worry about anyone else. it’s you. it’s always been you.”

his jaw worked, his defenses still up, but your words seemed to chip away at the wall he’d thrown up. he didn’t respond, but his posture shifted, less rigid now.

“can we just... not do this?” you asked, placing a hand on his arm. “please?”

logan sighed, the tension finally easing from his shoulders. “yeah,” he muttered, his voice quieter. “sorry. didn’t mean to...”

“it’s okay,” you interrupted softly. “just... trust me, okay?”

his gaze met yours, a flicker of something raw and unspoken in his eyes. he gave a small nod, the smallest crack in his usual gruff exterior. “i’ll try.”

logan was quieter than usual after the kitchen incident. it wasn’t like him to sulk - if anything, he preferred to keep himself busy when something was on his mind - but today, he lingered. even as you moved through your routine, you could feel his eyes following you, his presence hovering like a storm cloud.

when you finally had enough, you found him in the gym, pretending to focus on some heavy bag that had long since given up under his relentless punches.

“logan,” you called, stepping into the room.

he paused mid-swing, turning toward you. his brows were drawn low, jaw set tight, but the flicker of hesitation in his eyes softened the edges of his scowl.

“what?” he asked, the single word gruff but not unkind.

you crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe. “are you gonna talk to me about what happened earlier? or are we just gonna keep pretending everything’s fine?”

he scoffed, wiping his hands on a towel slung over his shoulder. “don’t know what there is to talk about.”

“really?” you raised a brow. “because it seems like you got upset over nothing and haven’t let it go since.”

he muttered something under his breath and turned back to the bag, but you weren’t about to let him escape this time. you marched forward, planting yourself in front of him, forcing him to look at you.

“logan, talk to me,” you insisted, your tone firm but not unkind.

his eyes flicked to yours, reluctant but unable to resist the pull of your sincerity. he took a step back, running a hand through his hair. “it’s nothin’, alright? just... don’t like the way people look at you sometimes.”

you blinked, caught off guard by the quiet admission. “logan... you know you don’t have to worry about that, right? no one else matters to me.”

“yeah, I know,” he said, his voice low. “it’s just... hard to turn that part of me off, y’know? seein’ someone else lookin’ at you like... like they could just take you away -”

“no one’s taking me away,” you interrupted, stepping closer. “not bobby, not anyone. i’m here. with you. always.”

his gaze dropped, the tension in his shoulders finally starting to ease. “you say that now, but... things change. people change.”

“not me,” you said firmly, reaching out to take his hand. his calloused fingers curled instinctively around yours, the contact grounding him in a way nothing else could. “i don’t care how many people look at me or talk to me. none of them matter the way you do.”

he let out a heavy sigh, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “you’re too damn good for me, y’know that?”

“don’t start with that,” you said, squeezing his hand. “i’m here because i want to be. because i care about you. and you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

a small, wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and for the first time all day, the storm in his eyes began to clear. “guess i’ll just have to keep you then.”

“damn right you will,” you said, grinning.

he chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that made your heart ache in the best way. his free hand came up to cup your cheek, his touch gentle despite the strength behind it. “you’re somethin’ else, y’know that?”

“yeah, i’ve heard,” you teased, leaning into his hand.

his smile softened, and before you could say anything else, he leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, full of all the things he couldn’t put into words. it wasn’t rushed or heated, but it left you breathless all the same, your hands finding their way to his chest as his fingers threaded through your hair.

the kiss deepened, his arm slipping around your waist to pull you closer, and for a moment, everything else fell away. no jealousy, no doubts, no outside world - just the two of you, tangled in each other.

you broke away only when the need for air became too much, your forehead resting against his as you tried to steady your breathing.

“feel better now?” you asked, a little breathless.

“maybe,” he muttered, but the small smirk on his lips told you all you needed to know.

the kitchen was bathed in the warm glow of evening light, the scent of garlic and herbs mingling with the rich tang of tomato sauce. you stood at the stove, focused on stirring, the rhythmic motion soothing as you lost yourself in the process. the soft hum of a song you’d been playing earlier still lingered in the air, blending with the faint sounds of the mansion outside. it was a rare moment of quiet, just you and logan, finding comfort in the simplicity of cooking together.

“you’re gonna burn dinner if you keep staring at me like that,” logan’s voice came, deep and teasing, from behind. the heat in your cheeks had nothing to do with the stove, but you couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips.

you didn’t turn around immediately, taking a moment to savor the way he always seemed to make your pulse quicken without even trying. when you finally met his gaze, the corners of his mouth were curled up in that smirk you’d come to know so well. he leaned against the doorframe, arms folded over his chest, eyes glinting with amusement.

“maybe i just want you to distract me,” you teased, tilting your head and letting the words hang between you. you felt a rush of exhilaration at the way his eyes darkened, the smirk giving way to something deeper, more intent.

“oh, i can do that,” he said, pushing off the doorframe and closing the space between you in a few long strides. his hands found your waist, strong and secure, pulling you close enough that the air between you was charged. his fingers splayed over the fabric of your shirt, and the touch sent a shiver up your spine.

“i can’t reach you if you’re too high up,” he muttered, eyes glancing down at the counter, then back up to yours. before you could react, he lifted you effortlessly, setting you on the edge of the countertop. the sound of a spoon clattering to the floor barely registered as you let out a startled laugh, the warmth of his body pressing into yours.

the soft hum of the sauce simmering behind you was forgotten as logan leaned in, brushing his lips over yours in a kiss that was warm, tender, and almost unbearably slow. your heart stuttered, a sharp jolt of longing coursing through you. the heat between you seemed to seep into your skin, filling every space with the kind of comfort you didn’t know you craved until now.

“log - ” you started, but the word dissolved into a soft breath as he deepened the kiss, the rough edge of his stubble scraping gently against your skin. the kiss was unhurried, as if he were trying to savor every second, every touch, before the world outside could pull you away.

“damn it, we’re gonna set off the smoke detector,” you managed to say when he pulled back just enough to look at you, his chest heaving slightly. the smoke detector was already starting its impatient chirp, but he just chuckled, pressing a tender kiss to your temple.

“let’s forget about it for a while,” he whispered, and you knew he wasn’t just talking about the smoke.

but reality had a way of reminding you of its presence. the faint, acrid smell of burning garlic reached your nose, and a flash of smoke curled into the air. the sauce, left unattended, had turned from a rich, warm red to a deep, unappetizing black. you gasped, scrambling to reach the pot and turn the burner off, but logan’s hands were at your hips, holding you steady.

“log, the sauce - ” you said, half-laughing, half-panicked as you glanced at the mess.

“who needs it?” he replied, voice low, eyes full of mischief. he dropped a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, then another, and you let out a laugh that felt free and light. the room filled with the sound of the smoke detector blaring, but it was drowned out by the rush of warmth between you two.

“you’re impossible,” you said, but the words carried no real heat. there was no room for anger or frustration when he looked at you like that, eyes full of fondness and a quiet intensity that only he could muster.

“and you love it,” he said, a playful challenge in his voice.

you sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your forehead to his. the noise of the world outside the kitchen seemed to fade into the background as you let yourself sink into this moment. the soft warmth of his breath mingled with yours, a simple comfort that filled the space between your ribs. he brushed a strand of hair away from your face, the touch gentle enough to make your chest ache.

“yeah,” you whispered, a smile tugging at your lips. “i do.”

he pulled back just enough to look at you, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. “good. ‘cause i’m not planning on going anywhere.”

the smoke detector was still blaring, but now it felt like a distant noise, a reminder of the chaos that had been and the peace that was now.

“well, we might need to deal with that,” you said, glancing at the beeping alarm.

“after dinner,” he said, leaning in again, his voice deep and inviting. “we’ve got time.”

you nodded, closing your eyes as he pressed his lips to yours, the world around you fading away until it was just the two of you, a promise, and a kitchen full of forgotten dishes and warm, tender moments.

🌀 logan howlett : @notacleangirl, @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @rooroen

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[m4rv3l-girl]

You’re not empty

Bucky x Y/N

Just an encounter - and a bit of healing for the white wolf…

Requests open

Warning: Some angst.

The city’s lights flickered like broken stars, casting a hazy glow over the streets as Y/N made her way down 9th Avenue.

She checked her phone for the third time, frowning at the lack of response. Bucky was supposed to meet her hours ago. He wasn’t usually one to forget plans, but there’d been a distance to him lately, a subtle drawing away that she couldn’t quite place. Tonight, though, that distance was becoming physical—stretching wider with every unanswered text.

She wandered through the familiar streets, her mind racing with worry and frustration. The occasional neon sign buzzed softly overhead, splashing the damp pavement with colors as she walked. The deep hum of the city around her almost drowned out her thoughts, leaving only the pulsing beat of her heart in the quiet spaces between.

She’d just about given up when a soft, orange glow caught her eye.

Tucked down a side street, a narrow bar with faded lettering on the window gleamed like a forgotten relic from another time.

Inside, she spotted him immediately.

Bucky sat hunched over the counter, shadows pooling under his eyes as he stared down into his drink. He looked distant, almost haunted, like a soldier lost in the memories of battles he’d rather forget. She stood there, watching him from the doorway, her heart tightening at the sight.

Finally, she approached, sliding onto the barstool beside him. He glanced up, a flicker of surprise softening the hard set of his jaw.

“Doll,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “What’re you doin’ here?”

She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms as she looked at him. “I could ask you the same thing, Bucky. You were supposed to meet me three hours ago. I was starting to think you’d fallen off the face of the earth.”

He looked away, his fingers tightening around his glass. “Guess I just… got sidetracked.”

The tension settled between them, thick and heavy, filling the silence with unspoken words. She watched him closely, the way his shoulders curled in, like he was trying to shrink away from something, or someone.

“Are you going to tell me what’s really going on?” she asked softly.

He sighed, a long, weary exhale that seemed to carry the weight of a thousand sleepless nights. “It’s… it’s nothing, Doll. Just old memories. Bad dreams. Sometimes it’s hard to shake ‘em.”

Her heart ached at the quiet vulnerability in his voice. She knew he had scars—ones that ran far deeper than the metal arm or the haunted look in his eyes. Gently, she reached out, covering his hand with hers.

“You don’t have to deal with it alone, you know,” she murmured. “I’m here. I don’t care how dark it gets.”

He glanced at her, his gaze softening for a moment before he looked away again. “Sometimes I wonder why you stick around. I’m not exactly the easiest person to be with.”

“Maybe I like a challenge,” she teased, nudging him lightly. “Besides, you’re worth it, even if you don’t see it.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You always know how to make a guy feel better, don’t ya?”

“Just part of the job, Serge,” she replied, grinning as he shook his head with a soft chuckle.

“Serge, huh?” he mused, his tone lightening just a bit. “Guess I could get used to that.”

He took another sip of his drink before setting it down, the glass clinking softly against the counter. “C’mon,” he said, standing up and offering her his hand. “Let’s get out of here. The night’s too quiet for sittin’ in a bar.”

She took his hand, the warmth of his fingers grounding her as they left the bar and stepped into the cool night air.

They wandered aimlessly through the city streets, the quiet between them comfortable, each step a slow unraveling of the tension that had been coiled inside him.

They walked until they reached a small park, its iron gates slightly ajar. Bucky led her to a worn fire escape overlooking the cityscape, and they sat down side by side, gazing out at the endless sprawl of lights stretching across the horizon.

After a long silence, he spoke. “Sometimes I feel… empty,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Like there’s nothing left inside me. Just shadows and echoes of someone I used to be.”

She felt her heart clench, the pain in his words cutting through her like a knife. “You’re not empty, Bucky,” she said softly. “You’re just… healing. It’s not easy, but you’re not alone. You’ve got people who care about you, who want to help. You’ve got me.”

He looked at her then, really looked at her, his blue eyes searching hers with an intensity that made her breath catch. “You mean that, don’t you?” he murmured, almost to himself.

“Of course I do. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze drifting back to the city lights. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not,” she admitted, squeezing his hand. “But I’m here for the long haul, Bucky. No matter how hard it gets. I’ll keep reminding you until you believe it.”

He turned to her, his face softening as he reached out to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin in a gesture so gentle it made her heart ache. “Darling,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t deserve you.”

She smiled, leaning into his touch. “Maybe, maybe not. But that’s not up to you to decide, is it?”

A laugh escaped him, low and soft, filled with a warmth that felt like a glimpse of the person he might become, someday. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her as they sat there, letting the quiet comfort of each other’s presence fill the empty spaces in their hearts.

As the first light of dawn broke over the city skyline, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “You make all this…” he gestured vaguely to the city, the memories, the loneliness, “feel a little brighter. I don’t know how you do it.”

“Love is a funny thing,” she murmured, smiling up at him. “It has a way of filling even the darkest places with light.”

They stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms as the city came alive around them, its hum of life blending with the quiet promise between them.

It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t easy, but in that moment, with the sun rising over the horizon, they had each other—and maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

——————————————————————————————————

[sageluvsjoel]

Lost and Found

part two to; a different kind of miracle

jackson!joel miller x reader x autistic! daughter

Requested HERE

masterlist

summary: A couple years after Joel had accepted and learned to adapt to his daughters autism, he loses his temper with her and she disappears

genre: hurt to comfort, post outbreak, fluff at the end

wc: 1.4k

likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

i do not authorize plagiarism or copying of my work!

It had been an exhausting week, one of those stretches of days where everything seemed to go wrong. Winter was coming early to Jackson, the temperatures already biting through the air, and Joel was on edge. Supplies were running low, and the town was trying to organize runs to gather essentials before the weather turned too harsh. He’d been so focused on making sure everyone was prepared—on doing something—that he hadn’t noticed how much it was weighing on him.

And, of course, his little girl, now ten years old, had her own struggles. Lately, she’d been more withdrawn, more prone to sensory overloads. Jackson was a safe place, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t noisy, chaotic, and unpredictable—three things that sent her into a spiral. Joel knew this. He understood her in a way he hadn’t a few years ago, but that didn’t mean it was always easy.

She had a routine—one she relied on to get through the day. That routine kept her grounded, kept her focused. But life in Jackson didn’t always allow for perfect routines, and today had been a prime example of that. Joel had asked her to do something simple—help him clear a path outside their house so they could prepare for the coming snow. She’d been reluctant, focusing intently on the puzzle she was working on, her mind miles away from the task he wanted her to do.

At first, Joel had been patient. He always tried to be patient now. But with everything else gnawing at him, his frustration had bubbled over.

“I need you to listen, alright?” Joel had snapped, his voice harsher than intended. “I’ve asked you five times now, and you’re just sittin’ there like I’m talkin’ to a wall!”

She had flinched, her small body going rigid as her fingers hovered over the puzzle pieces. Joel immediately regretted his tone. But it was too late—the damage had been done. She closed herself off, retreating into her own world, her face expressionless, her eyes downcast. Before he could soften his words or try to reach her again, she was gone—out the door, moving fast.

“Hey!” Joel called after her, but she didn’t stop.

He’d thought she needed space, so he let her go, figuring she’d come back when she was ready, as she always did. The town wasn’t big, and she often found quiet places to be alone when she felt overwhelmed.

But hours passed, and she didn’t come back.

The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the snow-dusted streets of Jackson. By the time dinner came and went, you and Joel were growing increasingly worried.

"Have you seen her?" you asked, anxiety creeping into your voice as you looked out the window. The sky was bruised with dusk, and there was no sign of her.

Joel shook his head, trying to keep his own fear from showing. “She’ll turn up. She just needs some time. You know how she gets.”

But as the hours stretched on, and the cold deepened, doubt started to gnaw at him. He’d checked the usual spots—the quiet corners of town where she liked to hide when she needed to be alone—but there was no sign of her. And with each empty space he searched, the knot of fear in his chest tightened.

You grabbed his arm, your face pale. “Joel, what if she’s… what if something happened?”

It was the question he had been trying to avoid, but he couldn’t deny the possibility any longer. He had seen too much, lost too much, to take anything for granted in this world.

“I’m gonna get Tommy,” Joel said, his voice strained, the panic rising in his throat. “We’ll start searchin’ in pairs, see if anyone’s seen her.”

Tommy didn’t ask questions when Joel showed up at his door, his face drawn and tight with worry. Within minutes, half the town was mobilized, everyone searching every corner of Jackson, calling her name.

The minutes dragged on, turning into an hour, then two. The cold was biting now, the wind picking up as night settled fully in. Joel’s heart pounded in his chest, each passing minute heightening the terror that something had happened to her.

Had she wandered too far out of town? Had something—or someone—gotten to her?

The questions battered his mind, a relentless barrage of worst-case scenarios, each one more terrible than the last. He tried to keep it together, tried to stay focused on the search, but the weight of it—the thought of losing her—was suffocating. It was his fault. He’d yelled at her. He’d made her run.

You found him pacing near the stables, his breath coming in harsh, ragged bursts. “Joel,” you called softly, your voice trembling, “we’ll find her.”

But Joel barely heard you. His mind was already lost in a sea of guilt and fear. “What if… what if somethin’ happened to her? What if she’s out there, and it’s my fault because I couldn’t keep my temper in check? I should’ve never—”

Before he could spiral any further, a voice crackled over Tommy’s radio. “Hey, we think we found her.”

Joel froze, his heart leaping into his throat as he grabbed the radio. “Where?”

“She’s in the old storage shed behind the library. Looks like she’s just sittin’ there.”

Joel didn’t wait for a response. He was running before Tommy could finish speaking, his boots crunching through the snow as he sprinted toward the shed. You were right behind him, both of you breathless and frantic.

The door to the shed was slightly ajar, and inside, huddled in the corner, was your daughter. She was sitting cross-legged, her arms wrapped around her knees, staring down at the ground, completely still.

She wasn’t crying. She wasn’t panicking. She was just… sitting there, lost in her own world, oblivious to the chaos she had left behind.

Joel fell to his knees beside her, his heart hammering in his chest as he reached out to touch her shoulder. “Baby girl,” he rasped, his voice thick with relief. “Where have you been? We’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you.”

She blinked slowly, as if waking from a dream, and looked up at him with wide eyes. “I didn’t know you were looking for me,” she said quietly. “I just… needed to be alone.”

Joel’s heart ached at the simplicity of her words, at the quiet truth of them. She hadn’t run away because she was scared or in danger. She had run because she was overwhelmed, because the world had gotten too loud, and she needed space to breathe.

And he had panicked because he hadn’t understood that, because he had let his fear take over.

You knelt down beside her, brushing a hand through her hair. “You scared us, sweetheart,” you said gently, your voice shaking. “We were worried something had happened to you.”

Her brow furrowed, her expression soft with confusion. “I was just sitting here. I didn’t mean to scare anyone.”

Joel closed his eyes, the weight of his relief crashing over him like a wave. “It’s alright,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “You’re alright. That’s all that matters.”

You pulled her close, and Joel wrapped his arms around both of you, holding on like he was afraid to let go. For a long time, none of you spoke. The only sound was the soft rustling of the wind outside, the quiet hum of the world moving on.

When you finally stood up, Joel kept a hand on his daughter’s shoulder, his grip gentle but firm. “Next time, you tell me if you need space, alright? I’ll give it to you. Just… don’t disappear on us like that again.”

She nodded, her face still calm, but there was a flicker of understanding in her eyes.

As you led her out of the shed and back toward home, Joel couldn’t shake the lingering fear in his chest. The world was still dangerous, still unpredictable. But as long as they were together—as long as he understood her, truly understood her—he knew they’d be okay.

She was his miracle, and he would never lose her again.

dividers by @kodaswrld

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[orcboxer]

the inherent homoeroticism between you and your redneck coworker who's taken it upon himself to teach you how to fight so you can stand up for yourself and have confidence. there's an intimacy to the way he's pushin you around, he's bein rough but out of a strange, maybe slightly fucked up affection. unlike others, he ain't doin it to hurt you, he's doin it to protect you. He tells you to hit him, and you're confused, nervous as all hell, but you try anyway because well, you wouldn't be here if you had the wherewithal to assert yourself. you overthink it and your punch is barely more than a tap and he shoves you and gets in your face and raises his voice tellin you to actually HIT him DAMMIT. this don't help with the confusion at all because you can smell his cologne and he's close enough you can feel the heat radiating off his chest and your next punch is a little better, you put your weight behind it in hopes it'll push him away from you a little bit so you can breathe, but he's fuckin solid. somethin clicks when he hits you back, and you throw a real punch after that. He wrestles you to the ground and he don't have to try hard to get you in a headlock, cuz this much contact is completely scrambling your brain. eventually you do get your head in the zone and you fight, really fight for the first time, but later when you're both sittin in his shitty old truck, sweaty and covered in dirt and bruises, he smiles at you all crooked and that just ain't fair